It was a quiet night in my apartment when my stomach started rumbling for food. My girlfriend (who shall henceforth be known as Cydney because that’s her name) looked at me and said ‘Babe, how are you hungry, we just ate.’ I thought to myself that while we had just eaten it wasn’t the perfect and fulfilling food that I love like any reasonable American, a hamburger. I responded in kind with an answer along those lines and a plan was formed. We would go get a cheeseburger at the Green Room here in Kansas City (Missouri, for specificity sake and you heathens who think KC is in Kansas) on Friday night. When we arrived there was no mistaking the scent in the air, meat, freshly ground and formed into pucks (as we all know, puck shaped meat has a very distinctive tinge). We sat down at a high top table in-between some hipsters at a bar and board games on the wall and our long haired waiter came and asked what we wanted to eat. As usual, I was completely indecisive about what kind of burger I was craving, what kind of cheese I wanted to see string away from a perfectly baked bun. Cydney on the other hand knew what she wanted and dived right in the menu.
After we finished our meals (and I my drink), I asked her what she thought of the burger over all. ‘That may just be my new favorite burger’ she replied.
‘It’s only number three or four on my list, maybe’ I responded in my usual snarky attitude.
At that moment an idea formed on both of our lips and in unison we exclaimed (ok, maybe this is an exaggeration and it took a little longer to reach this conclusion, but this is my story!),’WE SHOULD MAKE A LIST OF THE BEST PLACES IN KC TO EAT A BURGER!!’
Of course a list like this would need team work, this would be a job to big, to meaty for any one human being to handle. We would need rules, places to eat, when to eat. It was to be a quest for the best.
As we were typing out rules we needed to get the most basic question out of the way.
What makes a burger?
For us (your mileage and opinion on burgers may vary) it comes down to ground beef slap dash in the middle of a bun, not toast or a lettuce wrap. It can have cheese (because damnit cheese is amazing), sauce, egg’s bacon anything that your heart desires, and we even included a caveat for sliders because while small they capture the essence of what makes a burger great.
To go even further, we also removed chain restaurants, which encompassed anything with four or more locations (bye-bye Peanut, Five Guys, and the like) and included a radius of how far we were willing to travel, which was argued down do the KC metro area (Liberty, Independence, Overland Park, Olathe, all of the suburbs are being included in this list).
As the list of rules started to increase I thought to my waist line and asked if we could exclude sides, allowing ourselves healthy alternatives like fruit, veggies, or a salad. Cydney, being the saint she is, agreed to my addendum and even added a nothing over $30 rule.
We dove so deep into this idea that we typed up a spreadsheet that encompasses restaurant names, pricing deals, cost, location and an overall rating of 1-10. As the week went on, we were able to narrow down the list, come up with what should be where and even get an idea of where we wanted to start.
This evening (5/19/2017) was the inaugural tour of our great burger escapade, and as I was sitting around my apartment I started thinking about where we should kick off this grand tour. Should we go to a fancy place like Pierpont’s to give our taste buds a ride? Maybe risk the allure and crowded nature of a KC staple, Westport Flea Market? After mulling it over for what seemed like minutes, I decided to start with the closest possible location, Walsh’s Corner Cocktail.
As we hopped into the car, I informed Cydney that we were going to be in for a long drive, to a place that would smell of burgers and beer. As we pulled into the derelict parking lot (quite literally 3 blocks from my apartment), we struggled to find a spot for the red boat that is my impala. After careening dangerously into the last open spot at the opposite end of the lot we got out and started making the perils journey to the front door, which was guarded by chain smoking mothers looking at the dreary, heavy sky. Sneaking into the door we found the last open table, right in the path of an unoccupied dart lane.
Smiling Cydney pulled a chair over and sat down as the couple near us started making casual conversation about accidently hitting me with darts due to poor aim and general drunkenness (thankfully his significant other saved me from being a human pin cushion). While we waited for the singular overworked waitress to come and take our orders, dreams of burgers started to fill my head.
After ordering an iced tea, I got to the real meat of the situation, a Bacon Cheddar Cheeseburger. Weighing in at a whopping $8.75 I was hoping that I would not be sorely disappointed with what was to come. As we were waiting the crack of bats from former World Champs rung in our ears and the rolling din of conversation kept my ears perked up.
Hours seemed to pass as my stomach growled with indignation, when in truth it was hardly nearing a 10 minute fry up. As the waitress walked towards us burgers in hand, my mouth started watering, anticipating what was to come.
Looking down at my green dish covered in wax paper I saw an absolutely stunning site to behold, this perfectly chard piece of meat in-between a classic pillow hamburger bun. With the hint of bacon and cheddar peeking their tiny little heads out, I knew that I was in for a treat. When my teeth sunk into the bun there was almost a snapping sensation from the top of this bread and as they got further they were met with the pleasant crunch of a toasted bun. When bacon finally approached my lips, it broke of cleanly, not to cooked so as to add a dryness, but not under done so as to jump of the bun all in one bite. As I tasted the meat I knew I needed more. The light char mixed with the salt and pepper coating made me go back for 2 more bites as rapidly as I had started.
Finally I pulled away from this 6 oz. mountain of meat and stared more lovingly at this creation than I had a burger in a while. Then all at once it hit me, like a Dodge Neon. There was an acrid crumbly feeling hanging near the back of my throat. Oh no, my brain began to deny what was happening. Another bite, another moment of bliss that was punctured by a garbage truck driving through a suburban neighborhood. The cheese. The cheese was ruining what could very well be a burger of the week. The cheap taste of plastic soaked into the mattress of meat, calling me back from my days of love and affection.
Cydney and I made eye contact where we therein had a near silent conversation about the quality.
‘This is great’ I whispered
‘But the cheese is cheap, and not just Kraft cheap, off-brand Kraft cheap’ Cydney replied
My review in no way reflects on the pleasant atmosphere that was Walsh’s, which I would happily go back to again and try something new and different.
After looking over our options we decided to rate the burger. For location, it was nice, close to home and someplace that had a very nice, inviting atmosphere. As for worth the price, I was sad by the portioning and the overall outcome. Paying $20 for two burgers (plus sides and one drink, iced tea) that started off pleasant and ended sour was not high on my list. So here I am typing out this article holding out hope that without the cheese it could, no would have been better. That single undying thought left me room in my heart to give this a solid 6/10. As we go further into the future for burgers, I may not be as forgiving, or optimistic, however with wide eyes and a large stomach I fling myself unto the ever delicious path of burger superiority.
After we finished our meals (and I my drink), I asked her what she thought of the burger over all. ‘That may just be my new favorite burger’ she replied.
‘It’s only number three or four on my list, maybe’ I responded in my usual snarky attitude.
At that moment an idea formed on both of our lips and in unison we exclaimed (ok, maybe this is an exaggeration and it took a little longer to reach this conclusion, but this is my story!),’WE SHOULD MAKE A LIST OF THE BEST PLACES IN KC TO EAT A BURGER!!’
Of course a list like this would need team work, this would be a job to big, to meaty for any one human being to handle. We would need rules, places to eat, when to eat. It was to be a quest for the best.
As we were typing out rules we needed to get the most basic question out of the way.
What makes a burger?
For us (your mileage and opinion on burgers may vary) it comes down to ground beef slap dash in the middle of a bun, not toast or a lettuce wrap. It can have cheese (because damnit cheese is amazing), sauce, egg’s bacon anything that your heart desires, and we even included a caveat for sliders because while small they capture the essence of what makes a burger great.
To go even further, we also removed chain restaurants, which encompassed anything with four or more locations (bye-bye Peanut, Five Guys, and the like) and included a radius of how far we were willing to travel, which was argued down do the KC metro area (Liberty, Independence, Overland Park, Olathe, all of the suburbs are being included in this list).
As the list of rules started to increase I thought to my waist line and asked if we could exclude sides, allowing ourselves healthy alternatives like fruit, veggies, or a salad. Cydney, being the saint she is, agreed to my addendum and even added a nothing over $30 rule.
We dove so deep into this idea that we typed up a spreadsheet that encompasses restaurant names, pricing deals, cost, location and an overall rating of 1-10. As the week went on, we were able to narrow down the list, come up with what should be where and even get an idea of where we wanted to start.
This evening (5/19/2017) was the inaugural tour of our great burger escapade, and as I was sitting around my apartment I started thinking about where we should kick off this grand tour. Should we go to a fancy place like Pierpont’s to give our taste buds a ride? Maybe risk the allure and crowded nature of a KC staple, Westport Flea Market? After mulling it over for what seemed like minutes, I decided to start with the closest possible location, Walsh’s Corner Cocktail.
As we hopped into the car, I informed Cydney that we were going to be in for a long drive, to a place that would smell of burgers and beer. As we pulled into the derelict parking lot (quite literally 3 blocks from my apartment), we struggled to find a spot for the red boat that is my impala. After careening dangerously into the last open spot at the opposite end of the lot we got out and started making the perils journey to the front door, which was guarded by chain smoking mothers looking at the dreary, heavy sky. Sneaking into the door we found the last open table, right in the path of an unoccupied dart lane.
Smiling Cydney pulled a chair over and sat down as the couple near us started making casual conversation about accidently hitting me with darts due to poor aim and general drunkenness (thankfully his significant other saved me from being a human pin cushion). While we waited for the singular overworked waitress to come and take our orders, dreams of burgers started to fill my head.
After ordering an iced tea, I got to the real meat of the situation, a Bacon Cheddar Cheeseburger. Weighing in at a whopping $8.75 I was hoping that I would not be sorely disappointed with what was to come. As we were waiting the crack of bats from former World Champs rung in our ears and the rolling din of conversation kept my ears perked up.
Hours seemed to pass as my stomach growled with indignation, when in truth it was hardly nearing a 10 minute fry up. As the waitress walked towards us burgers in hand, my mouth started watering, anticipating what was to come.
Looking down at my green dish covered in wax paper I saw an absolutely stunning site to behold, this perfectly chard piece of meat in-between a classic pillow hamburger bun. With the hint of bacon and cheddar peeking their tiny little heads out, I knew that I was in for a treat. When my teeth sunk into the bun there was almost a snapping sensation from the top of this bread and as they got further they were met with the pleasant crunch of a toasted bun. When bacon finally approached my lips, it broke of cleanly, not to cooked so as to add a dryness, but not under done so as to jump of the bun all in one bite. As I tasted the meat I knew I needed more. The light char mixed with the salt and pepper coating made me go back for 2 more bites as rapidly as I had started.
Finally I pulled away from this 6 oz. mountain of meat and stared more lovingly at this creation than I had a burger in a while. Then all at once it hit me, like a Dodge Neon. There was an acrid crumbly feeling hanging near the back of my throat. Oh no, my brain began to deny what was happening. Another bite, another moment of bliss that was punctured by a garbage truck driving through a suburban neighborhood. The cheese. The cheese was ruining what could very well be a burger of the week. The cheap taste of plastic soaked into the mattress of meat, calling me back from my days of love and affection.
Cydney and I made eye contact where we therein had a near silent conversation about the quality.
‘This is great’ I whispered
‘But the cheese is cheap, and not just Kraft cheap, off-brand Kraft cheap’ Cydney replied
My review in no way reflects on the pleasant atmosphere that was Walsh’s, which I would happily go back to again and try something new and different.
After looking over our options we decided to rate the burger. For location, it was nice, close to home and someplace that had a very nice, inviting atmosphere. As for worth the price, I was sad by the portioning and the overall outcome. Paying $20 for two burgers (plus sides and one drink, iced tea) that started off pleasant and ended sour was not high on my list. So here I am typing out this article holding out hope that without the cheese it could, no would have been better. That single undying thought left me room in my heart to give this a solid 6/10. As we go further into the future for burgers, I may not be as forgiving, or optimistic, however with wide eyes and a large stomach I fling myself unto the ever delicious path of burger superiority.