[Pigging by Wilfrid: March 7, 2016]
There's a very smart idea at the heart of Salvation Burger's concept. Although the taxonomy of hamburger styles can get somewhat geeky--to say the least--there are two major species involved. The fast food hamburger and the heftier, richer steakhouse burger, also found in some restaurants and pubs.
Most burger vendors hew to one of those styles. April Bloomfield, at Salvation Burger, has a worthy entrant in each race.
Salvation Burger is a lovely restaurant too, in that unpromising quarter of midtown east where side streets are lined with largely forgettable eateries catering to a lunch-time office crowd. The room is spacious and soaring; the walls and ceiling are lined with rough, warm wood, and--like Lowlife downtown--you need to be careful about brushing against it if you're wearing a nice sweater. There's a full bar, plenty of counter seating with stools, and some very comfortable, secluded booths, each with a screen showing a wood-fired stove playing the part of a Yule log.
This doesn't look or feel like a fast-food restaurant (nor is it priced like one; more of that later). Tabelware is beautiful and--hold onto your hats--the plates are warm. Even ketchup comes in a stylish modern pot.
But the burgers. The Spotted Pig, of course, offers one of the city's most lauded bar burgers. You'll find no comparisons here because I've never eaten it. After hitting the joint one midweek afternoon and being quoted an hour's wait, I gave up (that was a while ago; it may be easier now).
First up, the so-called "Classic," a double patty with house-made (really) processed cheese, pickles, and a slightly sweet "special sauce," reportedly Thousand Island-based, although given Bloomfield's provenance I suspected Heinz Salad Cream. The patties are flattened, smash burger-style, and well charred. Very good of its kind--way superior to Shake Shack, for example. My daughter described it as "Like a Big Mac, only made by yourself, properly."
The eponymous "Salvation Burger" features a half pound patty which punches its weight. Where the similarly hefty (in photos, okay?) Spotted Pig burger features Roquefort, this boasts a cloak of Taleggio. Boasts, anyway, because the cheese gets so soaked up by the caramelized onions you can forget its there. There are no mouthfuls of cheese, just cheesy onions, until you give up and scrape them off so you can taste the beef (and since when did "caramelized" mean wet and gloopy?).
The beef is worthwhile. The height of the patty means the kitchen can get some real gradation, from raw in the middle, through medium, to a charred exterior (this was ordered medium rare, which the server explained would mean red in the center). Famously the meat is butchered and ground in-house from a herd of cattle wandering the basement (or something): no matter, as long as it's good, which it is. Those who like to use the word "funky" for meat as well as music, will find that slightly rotten note which is the hallmark of aged beef.
The rolls are made in-house too, and full credit for that; they're light and fluffy, but crucially hold together despite the running juice. Some consternation was caused by this Eater video in which chef Bloomfield slathers the uncooked patties with enough salt to kill the Dead Sea. It's an interesting decision to season only the surface rather than internally. The result is the occasional shard of dark, crisp meat which packs a highly salty punch--but there's enough unseasoned meat inside the patty that it's not a deal breaker.
Fries are impeccable, although for some reason they're the only thing which didn't stay warm. I cut to the burger chase, but the menu has other options, including salads, a fish sandwich, a hot dog, and selection of pies, and milkshakes--both alcoholic and non-alcoholic. Because they take the burgers seriously, it's worth considering something to snack on while you're waiting.
Oysters from the wood-fired oven are excellent--sharply hot, and coated with a herby sauce. They might think of serving four to a plate so that they're shareable without arm-wrestling.
It was mainly curiosity which had me order the "Spicy Kirby" which turned out to be a very mildly spiced dill pickle--better as an accompaniment to the Salvation Burger (the classic comes with pickles) than as a dish in itself.
iiyu
High-end surroundings, first-rate service, attention to detail, and good food. At a price. Lunch for two,: two burgers, a shared order of fries (not included), one alcoholic drink, those oysters and the pickle; a few cents under $100 with tax and tip included. Ouch.
Of course, you can shave that by omitting the $13 oysters, but the Salvation Burger is $25, the Classic $17--and they could make them seem affordable if they made them deluxe, given the low cost of potatoes. I highly recommend it, but I don't know that I'd take a family of six there for an affordable snack after the movies.
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