View Michael Solomonov's Philadelphia in a larger map.

Michael Solomonov [Photograph: Michael Persico]

James Beard award-winning Michael Solomonov (chef-owner of Zahav, Federal Donuts, and Percy Street Barbecue) was born in Israel, and he spends his days bringing the flavors of his childhood to the City of Brotherly Love—his Harissa and Za'atar-spiced fried chicken is pretty magical. But when it comes to burgers, Mike likes them simple: easy on the sauce, and topped with good tomatoes. "I do like cheeseburgers, and I've had people grind bacon into burgers, which is awesome but seems impure," he says. He's thrown his hat into the ring with a 100 percent brisket burger grilled over charcoal at Percy Street Barbecue, and he's playing around with a burger recipe for a new kosher Jewish restaurant he'll be opening on the Mainline. Don't expect any bacon or cheese on that burger, but knowing Mike, he'll find a way to make it innovative—and delicious.

When Mike's not testing our kosher hamburger recipes, he has no problem scarfing down a good bacon cheeseburger in his hometown. Here are five of his favorite burgers in Philadelphia.

Royal Tavern's Angus burger [Photograph: Robyn Lee]

1. Royal Tavern is a bar in South Philly where they do a great burger with smoked gouda, fried long hots, and bacon. It's really juicy, sort of Italian-style. I definitely chill out here: the menu is more substantial, and they have a great beer list.
937 East Passyunk Avenue, Philadelphia, PA 19147 (map); 215-389-6694; royaltavern.com

500° classic burger [Photograph: Nicholas Chen]

2. 500° does phenomenal burgers, and serves them late-night as well. They're thin patties ... actually, sort of mid-range, not like the super-thin West Coast burgers. They're seasoned really well. I just get a plain cheeseburger here.
1504 Sansom Street, Philadelphia, PA 19102 (map); 215-568-5000; 500degrees.com

3. I love the double burger at Morgan's Pier. It's two patties seared with cheese, and a little pickle relish, which is nice. The patties are delicious, and considerably thinner. I don't know what his grind is, but the balance of the meat is pretty sensational. The restaurant is outdoors and really beautiful. The fish tacos are amazing too.
221 North Columbus Boulevard, Philadelphia, PA 19123 (map); 215-279-7134; morganspier.com

SmokeShack burger [Photograph: Niki Achitoff-Gray]

4. Shake Shack just got to Philly. It's a good lunch break spot. They keep it real and unadulterated, approachable and not too expensive. I get the SmokeShack burger with bacon. I usually go light on the sauce; I'm not lovin' mayonnaise, I feel like it takes away from the fat and beef.
2000 Sansom Street, Philadelphia, PA 19103‎ (map); 215-809-1742; shakeshack.com/location/philadelphia

Five Guys burger [Photograph: Robyn Lee]

5. There's a couple of Five Guys locations, but I like the one in the city. I get a little cheeseburger with bacon, tomato, and fresh jalapeno peppers, and I get the fries with no ketchup. I eat it standing up, which is the best way.
1527 Chestnut Street, Philadelphia, PA 19102 (map); 215-972-1375; fiveguys.com

VIEW SLIDESHOW: Almost Every Burger From The 2012 Philadelphia Burger Brawl

[Photographs: Hawk Krall]

In the middle of a crazy Philadelphia spring weekend that involved the Broad Street Run, Philadelphia Sandwich Experiment, First Friday, and several major sporting events, was the Philly Burger Brawl, an annual competition at the Fleischer Art Memorial that brought out 23 local restaurants to battle it out for the title of best burger and raise money for Meredith Elementary School.

There were many pleasant surprises and a few disappointments. Overall it really came down to execution and who was best prepared for cooking outside on a charcoal grill with hundreds of people descending on them at the same time. The best burgers were cooked to order, literally right off the grill and into my hands, while the stalls that were sandbagging and plating 30 burgers at a time ended up with wilted lettuce, soggy buns, and dried out patties. Some of the chefs seemed like they were really there to compete, with full crews painstakingly topping each burger beautifully, while others showed up mostly to help out the charity—which raised a whopping $65,000.

The Winners

People's Choice Winner
Bobby's Burger Palace

Judge's Choice Winner
The Capital Grille

Online Vote Winner
Good Dog

My Top Five

1. Misconduct Tavern
2. London Grill
3. Loco Pez
4. Square Peg
5. Table 31

About the author: Hawk Krall is a Philadelphia-based illustrator who writes and draws the Hot Dog of the Week column on Serious Eats—now bringing regular Philadelphia burger coverage as well. If you have suggestions, let him know!

[Photographs: Hawk Krall]

Charlie's Hamburgers

336 Kedron Avenue, Folsom PA 19033 (map); 610-461-4228 ‎
Cooking Method: Griddle
Short Order: Slider-esque old school burgers 20 minutes outside of Philadelphia
Want Fries with That? No fries; get a black & white shake or a hot dog on the side.
Price: Cheeseburger, $2.40; specials, $2.85; double cheeseburger, $3.90
Notes: Closed Tuesdays

Driving through Folsom, Pennsylvania, past the drive-thru dairy mart, western-themed beer store and Nifty Fifty's retro diner, you might think you were in a small country town in the middle of nowhere rather than 15 minutes outside of the city.

I've always been vaguely aware that Delaware County—just west of Philadelphia—was a goldmine of old school hot dog and hamburger joints. Although I've had some good dogs out here, for the most part the hamburgers haven't knocked my socks off. But Charlie's, a bare bones burger stand that's been recommended to me about a zillion times, is the real thing.

A tiny shack on the side of the road, with counter seating for maybe a dozen people and a super simple menu (no fries), definitely feels like the Philadelphia equivalent of New Jersey's White Manna. The fresh, hand-formed patties are cooked to order on the flat grill behind the counter, then lined up along a stainless steel shelf waiting for toppings.

They don't call them "sliders," but size-wise they're pretty close, maybe three or four ounces each and no more than three and half inches in diameter. This is the Bunny Special, which comes topped with cheese, tomato slices, diced onions, and spicy mustard.

The buns are standard commercial white buns (you see the bags stacked up behind the counter) perfectly toasted on the griddle. The diced onions are under the tomato and insanely microscopic and fresh in that way that the best old-school hot dog joints do, adding a subtle flavor instead of overpowering everything.

The meat, being hand formed, isn't too tightly packed and if you look closely you can see there's even some pink left in there. What you can't see under all the toppings is that there's a decent char on there, too. The best part is that delicious zone where the meat and cheese melt into each other. The flavor's good, but next time I might ditch the toppings and just go minimal to really taste the beef.

Their other special is the Charlie, this one topped with cheese, tomato, ketchup, pickles, and fried onions.

Again, we have the microscopic onions, this time "fried," which is more like a cooked onion sauce. The pickles are nice and crisp, and again, the bun is perfectly toasted, soft on top and just crisp enough to hold it all together. My only complaint is there's a little too much ketchup.

With the ketchup, fried onion sauce, and pickle chips, this burger really takes you back to fast food territory, only about 100 times better. It's hard to pinpoint what exactly makes this place so much better than most of the other old school burger places around Philadelphia. Fresh beef is one, and I'm sure the minimal menu of just burgers, dogs, and milkshakes helps keep the painstaking attention to detail going.

And don't miss the thick black and white milkshakes, big enough to split between two people.

If you're looking for an Old School burger in Philadelphia, this is the spot. My only critique is that the specials are a little bit heavy on the toppings, especially with such a small burger. Next time I'll go with double patties for the specials, or maybe just a plain cheeseburger with some onions—or probably both.

About the author: Hawk Krall is a Philadelphia-based illustrator who writes and draws the Hot Dog of the Week column on Serious Eats—now bringing regular Philadelphia burger coverage as well. If you have suggestions, let him know!

Love hamburgers? Then you'll Like AHT on Facebook! And go follow us on Twitter while you're at it!

[Photographs: Hawk Krall]

Dutch Eating Place

Reading Terminal Market, 1200 Arch Street, Philadelphia PA 19107 (map); 215-922-0425, readingterminalmarket.org
Cooking Method: Griddled
Short Order: Freshly ground diner-sized burgers on outstanding fresh white buns
Want Fries with That? The hand cut fries are just ok; try the homemade chicken corn soup or hot apple dumpling instead
Price: Cheeseburger, $3.75; with fries and fresh squeezed lemonade, $6.95
Notes: Open Wednesday thru Saturday, check website for hours—earlier is better.

In my latest quest for delicious, non-fancy-pants burgers in Philadelphia, Dutch Eating Place came up again and again. I've definitely eaten half a dozen breakfasts at this always-packed, rarely-open, everything-made-from-scratch Pennsylvania Dutch breakfast and lunch counter in Reading Terminal Market, but never thought about their burgers until now.

Unfortunately, they just barely miss that perfect zone between hand-crafted-fresh-ground-ness and classic-American-cheese-and-iceberg-ness that, for me, describes the perfect hamburger.

The Dutch Eating Place serves their burgers on a homemade white bun that might be the best hamburger delivery device I've ever had. It's an awesome hybrid of artisan roll and fluffy Wonder Bread bun that a lot of places seem to go for and fail. Lightly butter-toasted on the griddle, the bun is the perfect size for their burgers, doesn't fall apart, and provides an optimum ratio of meat to bread. The burger is garnished with fresh tomato and iceberg. So far so good.

The big draw with these burgers is that the patties are made from beef ground fresh in the market at the L Halteman Family stand, my go-to spot for lebanon bologna, slab bacon, and handmade natural casing frankfurters. The patty had that intense outer crust and beef flavor that's definitely been missing from the last few burgers I've had, enhanced by the big pile of fried onions dripping with melted American cheese.

Sadly, the meat was overcooked. It wasn't totally dried out, and I understand that most lunch counters cook their burgers through, but just maybe a minute or two less on the grill and this sucker would have been perfect. However, although I love rare beef, I'd rather eat this again than one of the many underseasoned, barely seared, medium-rare burgers I've paid three times as much for several times in the last few weeks.

The shoestring hand-cut fries were also bit of a bummer, sort of sad and limp—maybe due to the fact that they were insanely busy when I was there. Next time I'll go for a cup of homemade corn chowder or save room for Shoo-Fly Pie. But overall? One of the best lunch-counter burgers you're going to find in Philadelphia.

Hawk Krall is a Philadelphia-based illustrator who has a serious thing for hot dogs. Dig his dog drawings? Many of the illustrations he has created for Hot Dog of the Week are available for sale: hawkkrall.net/prints.

Love hamburgers? Then you'll Like AHT on Facebook! And go follow us on Twitter while you're at it!

Editor's note: Please welcome Hawk Krall to A Hamburger Today! You may recognize Hawk from his regular Hot Dog of the Week column on Serious Eats (featuring his awesome art). Now he'll be bringing regular Philadelphia burger coverage as well. If you have suggestions, let him know!

[Photographs: Hawk Krall and Tim Gough]

Gino's Burgers and Chicken

611 West Dekalb Pike, King of Prussia PA 19406 (map); 610-265-5900, 2 more locations listed at ginosgiant.com
Cooking Method: Griddled
Short Order: Revived 1960s regional chain with some of the best fast-food style burgers in the Philadelphia area
Want Fries with That? Decent skin-on fries with a wild toppings bar
Price: Gino's Giant, $5.59; Bacon Cheeseburger, $6.39; toppings, free; fries, $2.49
Notes: Owned by Gino Marchetti, former Baltimore Colts defensive end

Gino's is a regional fast food chain that had a huge following in the '60s and '70s in Maryland, Pennsylvania, and New Jersey. Named after Gino Marchetti, former defensive end of the Baltimore Colts, Gino's was one of the first burger chains to offer burgers made from fresh ground beef and hand cut fries, and their Gino's Giant burger competed with (and was introduced before) the similar Big Mac. The chain disappeared in 1982, until the brand was revived in 2010.

I passed this place a few times and didn't think much of it until my recent search for a half-decent fast food-style burger in Philadelphia. Sure, we have lots of grass-fed beef four-inch thick burgers drowned in truffle butter on brioche buns, but outside of Five Guys and the not-yet opened Philadelphia branch of Shake Shack, finding a delicious thin-patty fast food-style burger that doesn't start life in the freezer is almost impossible here. Gino's isn't even that close to the city, but the drive out to the suburbs is totally worth it.

The restaurant looks like your standard fast food set-up—counter, drink station, tables, and booths—although it's a nice touch that they bring your food out to you when it's ready (and even clean the tables when you leave). Gino's lays it on pretty thick with the '60s retro nostalgia, with old photos of the chain plastered everywhere and giant flat screen TVs blaring extra-crazy old Gino's commercials and jingles.

Burger options include the Gino's Giant—double patty with shredded lettuce, tomato, onion, and "special sauce"—or your choice of a single or double burger topped with anything from the long list of free stuff (grilled onions, mushrooms, jalepeños, chipotle mayonnaise).

The medium well dual burger patties—no temps taken here—were well seasoned and still juicy with a nice crust and flowing with molten American cheese. A lightly toasted Big Marty's soft sesame bun managed to hold everything together, and all of the toppings were well balanced and fresh. Really just a beautiful burger—think Five Guys minus the peanuts and smashed bun, with a lot more care put into your food.

Bacon is another good choice here. Go for it.

The skin-on fries are decent—not sure if they are really hand cut or "hand cut-style," but either way they're worth getting. They're not super crispy but not soggy or greasy either. What really makes the fries sing is the crazy french fry toppings bar where you can bury your fries under malt vinegar, chipotle basil salt, or Gino's own "crab seasoning" for some Crab Fries, aka Old Bay Fries, quite possibly the only culinary tradition that Philadelphia and Baltimore share.

My friend and burger eating assistant (and owner of the iPhone 4S that took these awesome pictures—I don't believe it either) actually compared Gino's to In-N-Out Burger. I don't know about all that, but it might be the closest thing within 20 miles of Philadelphia.

I'm not sure if the suburbs have fully embraced what some are calling "high prices"—I guess in comparison with McDonalds or Burger King. In the city you'll pay $10 or $12 for a mediocre pub burger; if they opened a Gino's in center city I bet people would line up to pay $6 for a Gino's Giant, and give the upcoming Shake Shack invasion some homegrown competition.

About the author: Hawk Krall is a Philadelphia-based illustrator who has a serious thing for hot dogs. Dig his dog drawings? Many of the illustrations he has created for Hot Dog of the Week are available for sale: hawkkrall.net/prints/. Or check out more Philadelphia food adventures at Drawing For Food.

Love hamburgers? Then you'll Like AHT on Facebook! And go follow us on Twitter while you're at it!

[Photograph: Nicholas Chen]

Ladder 15

1528 Sansom Street, Philadelphia PA 19102 (map); 215-964-9755; ladder15philly.com
Cooking Method: Grilled
Short Order: A good beef patty tastes even better when stacked with beef short rib smothered by beef marrow
Want Fries With That? Yes; truffle fries and a truffle mayo combo that'll make the burger seem bland
Price: Burger 15, $15

In another case of brilliantly clever naming, Ladder 15 is the restaurant occupying the vacated firehouse on 15th and Sansom Street. It's your standard charming Philadelphia watering hole and eatery combo, an ever-so-classy joint that serves up a diverse (read: random) menu of foods that pair up well with your favorite local microbrew.

Stop me if I sound like a broken record, but I've come to the conclusion that on a superficial basis, every single bar in Philadelphia is basically the same. What sets Ladder 15 apart, with regards to its menu, is a burger that is topped with shredded short rib and bone marrow. Oh yes, glorious gelatinous cow fat. Sorry, it's still on a brioche—that part hasn't changed.

Now I've always believed in the school of thought that says burgers shouldn't be about the toppings. In my mind, the quality of a burger should exist purely in how well beef and bun (okay...and maybe cheese too) are integrated. When I first came across the Burger 15 at the Philadelphia Burger Brawl, I looked at the list of ingredients—a ragu of short rib, mushrooms, onion, bone marrow, and truffle sauce—and thought that this was simply another overdressed burger attempting to try to cover up shortcomings elsewhere. It just didn't make sense that adding more beef would somehow improve on what most would consider a good burger.

But somehow it does.

The burger itself is somewhat different from what you'd expect given the description. It's built up on a brioche, first covered with a layer of braised and shredded short rib "ragu"—akin to a pulled pork—blanketed with another layer of grilled onions, stacked with an 8-ounce grilled patty of prime sirloin, and topped with caramelized onions in a truffle jus. The bone marrow appears somewhere in that equation (it used to be served on the side in a hollowed out bone for self dispersal), but it was pretty well hidden to the naked eye.

I asked for medium-rare. This is not medium-rare. It's not even really medium. You know what? It didn't matter. While the patty certainly lost a bit of texture and moisture, the flavor still sang true. Sure it probably would've been better if cooked as ordered, but the taste played out well enough to make that a moot point. It was a clean and sweet beefiness that was more than capable of distinguishing itself beneath the mushrooms, the onions, and the truffle sauce. Maybe it was enhanced by the addition of the marrow or the short rib, which provided a nice textural contrast of its own, but the Burger 15 possesses a taste unmatched by any other "traditional" bread and beef combination I've had in the past. It's like eating the freshest cow available...if I'm allowed to say that.

If the burger could only be considered good, then call the fries great. Maybe it's the side of aioli truffle mayo that pushes these over the top, but Ladder 15's truffle fries are a fantastic example of perfect execution without being excessive. Their golden orange beauties are moderately thick cut skin-on wonders that combine the qualities of a consistently crisp outer layer and firm but fluffy innards. With a dousing of truffle oil, these can certainly stand on their own when it comes to flavor, but trust me—you'll want to smother that thick white sauce all over your lips any way you can.

So what's my final opinion on Ladder 15? Well my first paragraph about sums it up. It's a pretty generic bar type place that also serves decently unique food—just like every other place in Center City Philadelphia—but they do serve up a pretty damn good burger (among the best I've had in the city) with some ridiculous fries to boot. You wouldn't go out of your way for it, but it's a good burger choice if you're already in the area.

About the author: Good news everyone... Nicholas is 1) finally done with grad school and 2) totally leaving "A Hamburger Today" for greener other pastures at Google. Good luck replacing him... it's impossible, you can't ignore his girth. If you want to stalk him all the way to NYC, keep reading his blog My Inner Fatty.

VIEW SLIDESHOW: Philadelphia Burger Brawl Roundup

[Photograph: Nicholas Chen]

On this past glorious sunbathed Sunday, 18 restaurants descended upon the the roaming plains courtyards of William M. Meredith Elementary Public School for the Philadelphia Burger Brawl to wage battle for burger supremacy...and to raise money for a new computer lab. There were those known for their grilling prowess—Butcher & Singer, Rouge, and Good Dog, among others—and those that know nothing of the art of beef and bun—Paesano's and Barbuzzo. There was blood spilled, meat grilled, cheese melted, and even good condiments wasted. In the end, when the smoke cleared, the victors stood proud and the losers washed their shame down with water ice. THIS...IS...PHILADELPHIA.

I was invited to the the Brawl to stuff my face and bring you this report. Click through the slideshow to read about 14 of the burgers from the Brawl (alas, I didn't get to try all of them).

Winners

People's Choice Winner
London Grill

Judge's Choice Winner
10 Arts Bistro

Online Voting Winner
1. MidAtlantic
2. Good Dog
3. 10 Arts

Super Awesome Personal Opinion Winner
Paesano's. Just sayin'...they were robbed. These guys made a burger that had a certain homemade flair that none of the others came close to replicating. A surprise upset over a past favorite in Butcher & Singer.

About the author: Yo "A Hamburger Today," I'm really happy for you (for being named one of the top 25 blogs by Time) and Imma let you finish, but the author Nicholas also has one of the best food blogs of all time - My Inner Fatty.

Love hamburgers? Then you'll Like AHT on Facebook! And go follow us on Twitter while you're at it!

[Photographs: Nicholas Chen]

Smokin' Betty's

116 S 11th St, Philadelphia PA 19107 (map); 215-922-6500; smokinbettys.com Cooking Method: Grilled Short Order: The sirloin burger is 8-ounces of pure smoky flavor Want Fries With That? Hit or miss, some are brilliant and some are plain awful Price: 1/2-pound sirloin burger, $9.95; Tur-duck-en burger, $12.50 (both come with fries)

Smokin' Betty's, owner Susan Schlisman's latest brainchild, was the supposed solution to the problem that there weren't any good barbecue places in Philadelphia. With a name like that, images are conjured up of a place that serves up "American" comfort food—things like hot wings, pulled pork, flame-grilled chicken, and smoked ribs. Except it isn't. Instead of sticking to their original premise, Smokin' Betty's falls prey to the same formula as every other restaurant-bar in the city: an over-expansive menu that lacks a distinct focus on the one thing they're supposed to be experts at. For barbecue lovers, this is a definite tragedy. For burger lovers, this is a blessing in disguise.

Like I said, Betty's menu is slightly confusing, by which I mean their PR person would probably describe it as "diverse." Sure, they have their selection of smoked items per their namesake, but they definitely lean heavily to sandwiches (and salads; who needs those?), which doesn't entirely gel with their barbecuing theme. But if you're reading this post, you probably don't care if they're selling out or not. You just want to know if their burgers are "worth the squeeze," so to say.

Now before I continue and examine Betty's regular sirloin burger, I have a confession. Something I'm slightly ashamed to admit. The only reason I went to Smokin' Betty's was because I saw they had a Tur-duck-en burger on their menu. Say what you will about the Franken-creation of three types of poultry, but the idea is an interesting one.

Except they really shouldn't have called it a burger. Wikipedia says anything comprised of ground meat and sandwiched between bread should be called a burger. Purists will probably tell you otherwise. In any case, this sandwich is comprised of a turkey patty, a chicken patty, and a duck rillette, which is then covered with sweet potato ribbons, homemade stuffing, cranberry sauce, and white gravy. It's a glorious combination of flavors that I can only describe as "tasting like fall." It's received somewhat mixed opinions in the past, but it has an interesting blend of tastes from savory to sweet that I found quite appealing. It's most likely something you either love or hate, but that's something you'd probably know before ordering.

Their sirloin burger is everything the Tur-duck-en burger isn't: simple, understated, and traditional. Built on a rarely encountered sourdough bun (+1 for all you brioche haters out in the world), the burger is nothing more than eight ounces of flame grilled sirloin, lettuce, tomatoes, and cheese. It doesn't try to impress through gimmicky toppings (though there exists a Betty Burger with pork belly, avocado, roasted garlic aioli, and a fried egg that I chose not to try); it's good because it tastes pure and beefy.

Requested to be cooked medium rare, their variant came back beautifully crusted and a homogeneous shade of pink throughout. As for the patty? It's the union between a brilliantly juicy core and a remarkably smoky exterior. It's a patty that is certainly praiseworthy, one that pairs well with whatever cheese you might choose. By defaulting to a white cheddar, there was a subtle beefiness by a smooth and distinct aspect of dairy. When you combine the meat in the equation with a bready sourdough which is quite adept at soaking up juices and flavor, you get a burger that pushes no boundaries, but meets all the criteria of a good burger.

Good burgers deserve good fries. With that said, Betty should probably up her game. Their fries are kind of hit or miss. Some of them possess a fantastically crunchy outer layer and oh-so-fluffy innards. Some of them are soggy and disappointingly flaccid. The potential is certainly there, but the inconsistency definitely makes it difficult to recommend them with any degree of enthusiasm.

The final count on Smokin' Betty's? I walked in mostly out of curiosity for the gimmicky Tur-duck-en Burger, but I left completely satisfied because I tried their regular burger. Would I say it's something worth going out of your way for? Probably not. Is it a very good lunch option? Definitely. It's no star, but it's also no slouch.

About the author: Nicholas is just your average food blogger who pretends to be a graduate student in his free time. He lives life pretending he's a hipster...constantly searching for the rare and elusive "perfectly cooked burger." You probably haven't heard of it. You can read about other things you probably haven't heard about on his blog My Inner Fatty.

[Photographs: Nicholas Chen]

Bridget Foy's

200 South Street, Philadelphia PA 19147 (map); 215-922-1813; bridgetfoys.com
Cooking Method: Grilled
Short Order: Instead of 8 ounces of simplicity, go with 8 ounces topped with a fried egg
Want Fries With That? Only if you'd like a side of salt
Price: Standard Burger, $11; Head House Market Burger, $14 (both come with fries)

Getting your drink on in Philadelphia is pretty much the easiest thing in the world. I don't actually think it's possible to walk more than half a block before running into a bar. That's all fine and dandy for the lushes out there looking for a break in the day, but what should you do when you want to sneak a drink in while with the family? When you need to appease kids with "food" whilst you drink away? Well, that's a bit more of a challenge.

Problem solved. At the corner of 2nd and South Street is the charming little restaurant Bridget Foy's. Opened in 1978 by owner John Foy (Bridget's father), Bridget Foy's is a little bit of everything. Is it a brunch place? Sure, it's a place you could bring your family on Sunday, but implying that's all it is might be selling it short. Is it a bar? Kinda sorta—they take their list of beers seriously, but definitely not at the expense of their menu. Whatever you want to call it, it's an establishment that's hung around for 30-some odd years while others have come and gone. They must be pretty good at what they do.

To suggest that the menu at Bridget Foy's is extensive is probably an understatement. Yes, there's the standard brunch fair, but there's also some choices you wouldn't expect to find at most cafés—things like Korean barbecue duck tacos, Cadillac Meatloaf (bacon + mac and cheese + gravy anyone?), and even bánh mì. As tempting as all those dishes sound, you'd be silly if you passed over the options in the burger subcategory.

The Standard Burger is their classic no-frills cheeseburger. A simplistic construction starting with a sweet brioche, 8 ounces of freshly ground sirloin gets smothered with a thick layer of melted Wisconsin cheddar, then topped with shaved lettuce, tomatoes, onions, and a pickle (although my pickle was...conveniently missing).

Their interpretation of medium-rare was a bit overcooked for my tastes, but the burger was still decent. The brioche, which many consider overplayed and overrated, was a delicate compromise between porosity and bread content. With a very faint sweetness, it's the sort of bun that would play well by itself without meat. The patty was adequate even after being abused by heat. Fairly juicy and very moderate in flavor, it neither stood out nor detracted from the final product. Bridget Foy's rendition of a simple cheeseburger is one that respects simplicity and tradition, and it does it moderately well. It's not a game changer, but it's definitely a solid burger.

The Head House Market burger on the other hand—that one's a stunner. Built on a similar formula of brioche and beef, the HHM burger is topped with an herb mayo blend, Gruyère, grilled mushrooms, and a fried egg done sunny side up. Beginning with the mayo, with an ever so light hint of flavor from the herbs, it exhibits a certain "freshness" that's markedly absent in almost every burger I've eaten in the past. Continuing to the matrix comprised of the Gruyère and mushrooms, there's a textural contrast to the coarseness of the beef. Once you puncture that egg yolk...well, you just have a delicious mess of protein and cholesterol oozing everywhere. Messing up your Sunday best is well worth it if it means eating something so fantastically decadent and delicious.

Of course, what is a burger without fries? Trick question—it's still a burger. Even then, there are few things that go together as well as fried potatoes and meat + bun. Except in this case. I'm sure Bridget Foy's is capable of pounding out some seriously awesome spuds. Their fries definitely fulfill both criteria of crispy outer with fluffy inner, but mine suffered from the fatal flaw of over-salting. What could've been a great complement to the meal ended up being a fist-sized pile of sadness.

As for my overall impression of Bridget Foy's, it's a place that's worth seeking for a number of reasons: for a drink, for brunch, or just to hang around outside on a nice day. But if you're looking for a good burger? You could do much worse than their cheeseburger, or better yet, one with a fried egg on top.

About the author: Nicholas is just your average food blogger who pretends to be a graduate student in his free time (just one more month!). This past week he came to the epiphany that if you watch "Super Size Me" backwards, it's about a dude who is a Big Mac puking machine getting progressively healthier over the course of a month. You can read other brilliant observations in his blog My Inner Fatty.

[Photograph: Nicholas Chen]

Oyster House

1516 Sansom Street, Philadelphia PA 19102 (map); 215-567-7683; oysterhousephilly.com
Cooking Method: Grilled
Short Order: A fantastically prepared burger topped with blue cheese and a fried oyster
Want Fries With That? You'll definitely want them to cleanse the palate
Price: OH Burger, $14; fries, $5

Oyster House is a mom and pop type of restaurant that has seemingly been around forever. Opened in 1976 by current owner Sam Mink's father, David, they've been serving up classics like lobster rolls, fried clams, and, of course, fresh oysters for over 30 years. While it might seem counterintuitive to head to a place called "Oyster House" to scratch your metaphorical burger itch, the only non-seafood (sort of) option on their menu has gained quite a fan base in Philadelphia.

Weighing in at six and a half ounces, this welterweight of beef can be considered neither meager nor hefty, but what it lacks in size it makes up for in substance. Built on (yet another) brioche is a blend of dry-aged chuck and brisket, a generous coating of blue cheese, and sweet grilled onions. Oh, and a fried oyster, can't forget that. Fried things are awesome and oysters are generally no exception.

The meat is cut fine with steel blades instead of being ground—to preserve the purity of beef flavor, or so they say. I'm not sure how much that contributed to the final product, but the patty is undoubtedly top-notch. My burger was ordered medium-rare and what arrived was as fantastic an interpretation of that as I've had in a while. Hidden beneath a slightly browned exterior is a micro-porous lattice of brilliant pink beef, filled with a literal explosion of beef juices and oil. However, the amount of meat belies the amount of flavor.

Surely based on the beef alone, the juice was worth the squeeze, right? Sadly, no. A really good burger is one that surpasses the sum of its parts. While the brioche is passable, if not great, the addition of the fried oyster feels superficial and extraneous. Its presence in the burger is nothing more than a slightly mushy mass of fried batter. On top of that, the blue cheese easily overwhelms all of the other flavors in the sandwich. That gorgeous pink patty you saw before gets shamelessly lost in the fray. Those sweet grilled onions are little more than garnishes. Given the opportunity, I would wager that their plain beef and bun burger would rival some of the best in Philly.

The fries are above average. Characterized by a thin profile and an abundantly crispy outer shell, they were a welcome addition to the plate—either to cleanse the palette or to eat plain. Embarrassingly enough, I found myself saving them for last so that I wouldn't retain a mouthful of blue cheese particles for the rest of the day.

Oyster House is definitely confusing for me. I love certain components in the burger, namely the beef and the bun, but I hate the construction. If it were possible to omit the cheese and fried oyster, the sandwich would be infinitely more appealing to me, but it would also completely destroy the purpose of the burger. I see myself returning to make that experiment, and you probably should too.

About the author: Nicholas is just your average food blogger who pretends to be a graduate student in his free time. He doesn't always eat burgers, but when he does... he prefers to eat them for "A Hamburger Today." Stay hungry my friends. Read more about his culinary adventures on his blog My Inner Fatty.

Love hamburgers? Then you'll Like AHT on Facebook! And go follow us on Twitter while you're at it!

[Photograph: Nicholas Chen]

Square Burger

200 N 6th Street, Philadelphia PA 19106 (map)
Cooking Method: Griddled
Short Order: A fancier version of McDonald's Quarter Pounder
Want Fries With That? They're decent, but there's nothing exemplary about them.
Price: Classic Cheeseburger, $4.75; fries, $2; Cake Shake, $4.75

In the middle of Franklin Square Park—behind a fountain and squeezed in between an overpriced carousel and a mediocre Putt-Putt course—there's a small hut that serves up burgers, hot dogs, fries, shakes, and desserts. It doesn't look like anything special (and if it weren't for an "order" sign you probably wouldn't even know that it served food), but if you read all the press it gets online, you'd swear that Stephen Starr's Shake Shack wannabe, Square Burger, serves up a burger whose creation rivals the invention of sliced bread.

If you can imagine a McDonald's burger assembled with care and quality ingredients, you would basically end up with the classic cheeseburger at Square Burger. Built on the familiar Martin's potato roll, the 4-ounce patty is a proprietary 80/20 beef blend sourced from Indian Ridge Provisions. Topped with American cheese, generous dollops of ketchup and mustard, and diced onions and pickles, it really is, more or less, a glorified quarter-pounder.

Important to note, I was not given the option of how well done I wanted my burger. After getting thrown on griddle, the patties all come back uniform in cross-sectional, done through and through. The patty is pretty average, certainly "beefier" in texture than most fast food offerings, but in terms of flavor, you don't really taste much past the mish-mash of pickles, ketchup, and mustard. Overall, the burger isn't awful, but is it really worth $4.75? Not really, especially considering the size.

As for all the great press they got after opening last year, did something change? I just don't get it. It's a scaled up version of McD's at four times the cost.

The story is pretty much the same with the fries. They're not bad, but they're nothing to write home about. Again, they remind me of the fries from a certain place with golden arches. They're moderately thin and wispy fries that afford a decent outer crunch. They're a good complement to a burger, but not worthy of standalone eating.

You're probably wondering, "Why are you writing about a place that serves overpriced and merely 'okay' burgers and fries?" Oh, because even though Square Burger falls short of most expectations (it really is just a failed attempt at mimicking Shake Shack), they do have one thing on their menu that is beyond words...

CAKE SHAKE. It doesn't matter if you're having a down day and need a sugar pick-me-up or if you're trying to kill yourself with heart disease—you need to try this shake. What is a cake shake you ask? Start with a base of vanilla ice cream, add in half-and-half (not milk), shove a package of Tastykake's butterscotch Krimpets inside, and blend the crap out of it while adding more butterscotch syrup. Aw yeah. Check out those bits of cake floating around in there. While it sounds over the top, it... okay it actually is. That doesn't change the fact that it tastes phenomenal and is entirely the perfect pairing to dip fries into.

I think it's pretty clear what I think of Square Burger: decent burgers and fries at elevated prices that will probably have you hungry pretty quickly, but home to an indescribably good shake that will probably shave years off your life.

About the author: Some people enjoy things like long walks on the beach, a good book, funny movies, and good conversation. Nicholas prefers hamburgers, the internet, Twinkies, and Maru the Cat. Read about things that he likes eating on his blog My Inner Fatty.

Love hamburgers? Then you'll Like AHT on Facebook! And go follow us on Twitter while you're at it!

[Photograph: Nicholas Chen]

Adsum

700 South 5th Street, Philadelphia PA 19147 (map) 267-888-7002; adsumrestaurant.com
Cooking Method: Griddled
Short Order: A 10-ounce behemoth topped with a decadent pancetta-onion fondue.
Want Fries With That? Sure. The duck fat fries that come with it are solid if unremarkable.
Price: Adsum Burger, $12; Tastykake Sliders, $11

Tucked neatly away in the neighborhood of Queen Village, far from the noisy confines of Center City, is the quiet neighborhood eatery Adsum. The brainchild of former Lacroix head chef Matt Levin-Adsum that opened this past July aims to be a self-described "refined neighborhood bistro." The concept at play is a relatively simple one. Adsum aims to serve up classical American dishes with infusions of other flavors, dishes that are comforting yet unfamiliar at the same time, dishes that cater to locals and visitors alike. While mixing flavor profiles works out for them more times than not, I'm normally not overly enthused by non-traditional burgers. There's something to be said about simplicity over gaudiness, and admittedly I wasn't too enamored about trying the Adsum burger.

That is, before I found out they were pushing out "sliders" [sic] made with Tastykakes. Whether you're a fan of combining desserts with burgers or not, the idea is surely intoxicating. I could feel my arteries constricting as soon as I read the description of the burger: miniature beef patties topped with miniature slices of American cheese and Sriracha-cherry jam sandwich in between Peanut Butter Kandy Kakes. Too cute. Yes, I said it.

But chocolate-covered cake bun "sliders" (don't kill the messenger) can't constitute a full meal. That's ludicrous. Enter the Adsum burger.

The Adsum burger is a monstrosity of beef. There's no other way to appropriately describe it. The patty itself is a 10-ounce heart stopper that looks like a giant meatball flattened and seared on the griddle. Topped with cheddar, a pancetta-onion fondue, and capped with a hefty challah bun from Wild Flour Bakery, this sandwich is literally too much to digest.

After staring at the absurdity of the construction for several minutes, I was apprehensive about cutting the burger to expose the center. I feared that with such a thick cross-section, the innards would either be woefully underdone or cooked past oblivion, but incredibly the burger arrived medium rare as ordered. The patty is phenomenally beefy, the pancetta-onion fondue adds a subtle sweetness to the savory flavors, and the bun sops up the overflow of juices. As far as how the whole equation fits together the burger itself is decently good—not overwhelming or incredibly memorable, but certainly worth its caloric weight.

The real reason I went though...

Tastykake sliders. Tastykakes aren't just a food product; they're a Philadelphia icon. In response to the company's recent economic troubles, Adsum began churning out Tastykake sliders to support the Pennsylvania institution. But how does it taste?

To be honest, somewhat gimmicky. These are kind of hard to eat in a practical sense since the stack height is far greater than any normal person's mouth—it becomes a fork and knife affair. Past that, the flavors are a bit confusing. There's a slight tartness from the cherry jam (although it doesn't have a discernible spiciness that would normally be associated with Sriracha), the cheese is lost somewhere in the sandwich, and the burger, chocolate frosting, and vanilla cake combination tastes exactly as you'd expect: sweet and beefy. The sliders themselves aren't awful to eat, but they're certainly not something I'd seek out repeatedly. They are what they are: a fusion burger meant to be more of a story piece than a meal.

As for the sides, duck fat fries rarely disappoint. They're usually extraordinarily crispy and, as best as I can describe it, have a flavor that almost mimics fried chicken. Adsum's aren't the greatest, and I surely wouldn't say that they're even great fries, but as a complement to the burger, they are certainly adequate. Of course they pale in comparison to...

Poutine. I was momentarily tempted by the mention of "Super Poutine" on the menu, but decided that the addition of bacon and a fried duck egg was probably going to kill me prior to the end of the meal. Adsum's poutine is built on the very same duck fat fries, but covered with brown gravy, mozzarella curds, and a glistening piece of foie gras. Decadence on a plate.

What's the final score on Adsum? It's a place that does everything two steps past normal. Regular poutine? Not good enough—throw some foie gras on it. Normal sized burger? Not big enough—make it 10-ounces and put pancetta in it. Normal sliders? Not deadly enough—replace buns with Peanut Butter Kandy Kakes. But in the end it all works out pretty well. Is it one of the best burgers I've had in my life? Thankfully no. Is it gut-bustingly satisfying? Definitely.

About the author: Nicholas is your average Chinese engineering student, who doubles as a food writer. When he's not eating, you can usually find him in the engineering library talking loudly on his cellphone, asking his parents when they're coming to help him with his laundry. You can read about all this on his blog...My Inner Fatty.

P.S.: If you have any burger suggestions for Philly that you're absolutely dying to see, leave a comment. I only have three months left here!

[Photograph: Nicholas Chen]

National Mechanics

22 South 3rd Street, Philadelphia PA 19106 (map) 215-701-4883; nationalmechanics.com
Cooking Method: Grilled
Short Order: A hefty grilled Angus burger sandwiched between a delicately sweet brioche
Want Fries With That? It's a crime there aren't more of these steak fries.
Price: National Burger, $9

The first time I went looking for National Mechanics in Old City, I walked right by it and didn't even realize. It's not because it's dingy, beat-up, or anything of the sort, but rather...it feels too grand to be a bar. Built in the space of the former Mechanics National Bank, the entrance is unlike any other gastropub I've visited in Philadelphia. Tall majestic columns, weathered stone exterior, and a high arching roof—the architecture is downright intimidating.

The décor on the inside proves to be a confusing transition. Everything on the outside suggests homage being paid to the historical, but the interior is warm and cozy, if a bit eccentric. From the odd light fixtures to the faucet piping in the bathroom, everything feels cobbled together in an oddly mechanical fashion à la Ben Franklin meets Steampunk.

Luckily, their menu isn't as confusing as the image they're trying to push. Unsurprisingly, they serve standard bar fare. I'll admit, the $10 strip steak was awfully tempting, but that shouldn't be why you're going. You should be going for the 32 rotating varieties of beer served at any given time. Oh, right...AHT doesn't stand for "A Hangover Tomorrow," what I really mean is you should be going for that section of the menu labeled "Between Bread."

Through its description, the National Burger is another seemingly plain construction of beef and bun, dressed only minimally with lettuce, onions, and tomatoes. Sure, you can doll up your burger with bacon for another dollar, but this is yet another case of elegance manifesting itself as simplicity.

Though I asked for my burger to be cooked medium rare, the above is what was delivered to my table. My heart sank. There's nothing more distressing than a poorly cooked patty to ruin a burger. Eight ounces of overcooked beef is eight ounces of sadness. Curiously enough, despite this flaw, the burger tasted great. The fact that the patty resided on the grill for as long as it did yielded a deep smokiness to the outer crust, and this, combined with the sharp cheddar, resulted in a well-balanced and diverse flavor profile. I can only imagine how much better the burger could've been if it were actually medium rare. The truly impressive aspect of this sandwich, however, was the brioche bun. Pliant, airy, and chewy, the bun had a subtle sweetness that made it pleasant to eat entirely by itself.

Let me start with the downside to the fries that come along with the National Burger. There are not enough of them. I am a big fan of steak fries. For some reason, a lot of restaurants have abandoned these full-bodied sides in favor of their slender cousins. This, to me, is a mistake. While I don't discriminate against fries based on their weight/appearances, when executed properly, thickly cut and crispy steak fries are wonderfully delicious. And these for certain are. I happily finished my small pile without even resorting to using ketchup.

So what of National Mechanics? It's a charming, quirky bar built into the grand confines of colonial architecture that serves up a good (even when poorly cooked) burger and great steak fries.

About the author: Every Friday, Friday (Gotta get down on Friday)—Nicholas can usually be found lookin' forward to the weekend, weekend...to eat some burgers. If you're curious about what he eats on Saturday and Sunday (which comes after Saturday), read his blog...My Inner Fatty.

[Photograph: Nicholas Chen]

Race Street Café

208 Race Street, Philadelphia PA 19106 (map); 215-627-6181, racestreetcafe.net
Cooking Method: Grilled
Short Order: A beautifully simple 8-ounce burger that does just about everything right
Want Fries with That? The fries are there, but only because the garlic mayo is out of this world
Price: Race Street Burger, $9; add cheese, $.50

What do you do when you have friends that find it morally reprehensible to drink before noon? Find new friends—that's what you should do.

In the odd case that you don't want to go to that extreme, one compromise is to find a bar that serves fantastic food so while your companions are happily eating away you can stealthily mask your drinking habits to your heart's content. Like at Race Street Café.

Hidden away in the confines of Old City, Race Street Café is so much more than a café. It's a neighborhood brunch joint (which doubles as a bar at night) that takes its beers very seriously. It's the kind of place you go to for a coffee at 10 a.m. and a beer at 2 p.m., then leaves you wondering where the time went. It's the Sunday establishment where you forget about the crap that pervades through the workweek.

Their menu is mostly standard brunch fare—eggs served every which way you can think of—combined with an equally extensive list of American-style entrées, sandwiches, desserts, and seasonal specials. It's a menu that's extremely traditional and familiar, almost comforting. Those superlatives extend perfectly to their burger as well. "Fantastic" is probably an inadequate descriptor.

While the sandwich menu features an infinitely more seductive sounding burger named the Spanish Burger—complete with ground chorizo sausage and manchego cheese—don't be tempted by that harlot.

The real winner on the menu is the Race Street Burger. It's old faithful, a half-pound burger topped with lettuce, onions, tomato, and your choice of cheese served on a kaiser roll. Is it anything you haven't had before? Not really, but it's a very well executed version.

The patty, comprised of 8-ounces of black Angus beef, was marvelously flavorful, appropriately coarse in texture, and deceptively juicy. Sparsely seasoned with only a hint of salt, the flavor profile was nicely balanced, neither overwhelmingly beefy and boring nor laden with salt. Cooked to what I consider a perfect medium rare, the innards are a series of interconnected pores laden with juices, just awaiting compression before spilling out in their full glory. Combined with a rather deeply flavored cheddar and fresh produce, this burger is a heart-stopper.

At first, the kaiser roll bun with its crispy outer shell seems to be a questionable pair to the succulent innards, but due to the burger's juiciness, it ceases to be a problem halfway through the sandwich. Considering how well proportioned the final bites are, the bun choice seems to be by design rather than an afterthought.

Admittedly their fries are pretty average. Although they're good enough to complement the burger, they feel insignificant next to the beauty that is the Race Street Burger. One thing that deserves extra mention is the garlic mayo that came with the fries. If condiments can be described as sensual, this definitely is. I completely neglected the ketchup and happily smeared the oily sauce everywhere with every bite. Like a madman possessed, I was entirely enthralled by this garlic-laced ecstasy. In summary, eat the fries. Drink the mayo.

I don't know else there is to say about Race Street Café that the food doesn't already. The atmosphere is suitable for everyone, from the alcohol abstinent to the serious drinkers, and the food is phenomenal—especially that mayo. I swear there are drugs in there because I'm addicted.

About the author: Nicholas, Nicholas... five foot seven weighs a freakin' ton—burgers beware, burgers beware—he's coming... he's coming... he's coming! Let me lay it on the line, he had two on the vine, I mean two sets of blog postings, SO divine. Support his other one too...My Inner Fatty.

Love hamburgers? Then you'll Like AHT on Facebook! And go follow us on Twitter while you're at it!

[Photograph: Nicholas Chen]

JG Domestic

2929 Arch Street, Philadelphia PA 19104 (map); 215-222-2363, jgdomestic.com
Cooking Method: Grilled
Short Order: A 6-ounce burger constructed with ingredients straight from the farm
Want Fries with That? Skip the regular fries, spring for the duck fat fries
Price: JG Domestic Burger, $12; add cheese, $3; house fries, $4; duck fat fries, $5

Jose Garces is considered something of a genius within the culinary circle. Having been awarded the title of "Best Chef Mid-Atlantic" by the James Beard Foundation, as well as having competed and winning on Iron Chef America, his accolades are undoubtedly impressive. The list of his restaurants is equally notable, including Village Whiskey, home of one of Philadelphia's most beloved burgers. There's no denying that the man is insanely talented.

JG Domestic, opened just this past fall, is one of his newest ventures. The premise behind the restaurant is to "highlight the season's best from American growers" and to create an experience that goes straight "from the farm to the table." What this supposedly amounts to is a celebration of the best farmers in the mid-Atlantic, culling together the finest meats, vegetables, and dairy available, and putting together an entirely organic and natural meal.

How does this translate into making burgers? In theory it's an excellent idea, taking the freshest available ingredients and using it to create a simple burger in which the flavor of the components can really shine, not superfluous additions or gimmicky toppings.

Comprised of 6-ounces of grilled Wolfe's Neck sirloin stacked with tomato, lettuce, Thousand Island, Grafton aged cheddar, all on top of a plain-seeded hamburger bun, the JG Domestic burger is little more than beef, cheese, produce, and bread. Sadly, the downfall is in the execution. It's almost as if they put so much thought into the idea behind a truly "grassroots" burger that they forgot how to cook it.

Medium rare is my default for ordering, and I am okay with a fair bit of rareness as it should be in the center, but what I don't expect to find is a burger that's hemorrhaging red juices all over the plate upon arrival. If undercooking were a consistent trend at JG Domestic, then the problem would be minor—just order with that in mind—but a second burger that was requested medium arrived beyond well done. It seems that not only do they fail at cooking the patty properly; they seem to suffer from consistency issues as well.

This is truly a shame—the potential for a good burger is certainly there. The seeded hamburger roll is decent, if generic, and would prove to be appropriate for the job had it not been soaked pink by the middle of the meal. The produce is fantastically fresh, the cheddar cheese is bold and flavorful, and the balance is actually quite remarkable. If only the patty were cooked properly, it would be difficult to find any faults at all. As far as flavors go, the sparse seasoning did work to highlight the pure flavor of untainted beef.

Fortunately the meal wasn't entirely a lost cause. The duck fat fries served at JG Domestic are indeed something special. Skin-on potatoes are sliced moderately thick, fried to a brilliant golden hue, and then coated with a light dusting of salt. In a slightly odd comparison, the flavor is reminiscent of mashed potatoes wrapped in fried chicken skins. If that doesn't sound glorious to you, I don't know what else to say.

As for my thoughts on JG Domestic? The concept is a good one in theory, but misses big in practice. Using only the finest and freshest ingredients should result in some fantastic food, but only when cooked properly. Sure, their duck fat fries are borderline phenomenal, but unfortunately good fries don't make up for a lackluster burger.

About the author: While he's technically a materials science graduate student at Penn, Nicholas spends more time eating burgers than quantifying siemens. Don't worry, he washes his hands after doing both...most of the time. For more inappropriate puns, read his blog My Inner Fatty.

Love hamburgers? Then you'll Like AHT on Facebook! And go follow us on Twitter while you're at it!