Where’s Your Favorite Burger?
What’s the best cheeseburger you’ve ever had?
Not as easy a question as it seems, right? Not even in the Spartanburg area, where the burger culture is so strong that we named a minor league baseball mascot for it.
But its that way in every corner of South Carolina and North Carolina in the communities we serve. Ask somebody where to get lunch, and the first response is likely to be “Well, (fill in the blank) has a great burger…”.
And that’s almost always good advice. Because a lot of the folks who shop with us know where the great burgers are. Police officers, firemen, EMS workers, linemen, construction workers…well, you get the point. They’re going to find a great burger.
But where’s the BEST one?
I’m probably a poor person to ask, largely because I’ve got more of a knowledge base than a lot of folks. My lunchtime meals tend to fall into one of three categories: burgers, Italian subs, and everything else.
But even I can’t pick my favorite ever, though this project has caused me to try.
It could be one at Hamburger Joe’s at North Myrtle Beach, consumed after winning the Bar and Restaurant League softball championship (I’d brag about the game-winning RBI smashed down the left-field line, but that’s another story). That one was consumed with a group of loud, rowdy friends on a fall night that was assuredly stretching toward morning.
It could be the simple, no-frills one at the long-gone O’Reilly’s on King Street in Charleston. Classic pub burger, really good fries, and nearly always the first lunch stop on the Friday of a long weekend spent at one of my favorite places with the person I love the most.
It could be what J.C. Stroble instructed me to order as a “double chili-cheese all the way and chop-chop” at the Beacon. Mustard and chopped onions on the burger, and his voice a welcome sound after a four-hour drive to visit home.
It could be one of a number of different creations at the Nu-Way, eaten in a hurry as I rushed from assignment to assignment back in the journalism days, sometimes with friends but often by myself, reflecting on the fact that the legendary writer who’d held my job when I was a teenager often took work calls behind the bar, where he sometimes allegedly worked a shift.
It’s not any of those, though.
The best burger I’ve ever had, I’ll never have again. You can’t have it either, and that makes me sad for you, because at least I’ve got the memory.
It came from Mary Lyda’s kitchen in Holly Springs. My grandmother cooked it on an ancient cast iron griddle that was probably normal-sized and jet black at some point in its existence. By the time I saw it, it was roughly an eighth of an inch thick and silver in most places. She’d hand roll small orbs of ground meat, then smash them down to get crispy edges and a perfect crust. You know them as smash burgers today. We just knew they were good.
They got slices of the cheapest American cheese she could possibly find at the instant they were done. Then she set them aside for the cheese to melt, and put hamburger buns on that same skillet to toast.
You made your own. Duke’s on both bottom and top. Mustard on the bottom, ketchup on the top. Her homemade chili. Onions. And that’s it. She always made enough for her giant grandson to make a double. I never did. I always made two instead.
And that’s it. Nothing really special about it, except for every single thing. It’s my favorite burger, and will always be.
So, what’s your favorite? And where can we get it? We promise to try them with an open mind, and as much as we’re able, to tell everybody else why they’re special.
Just know you’re gonna have to go a long way to compete with my Grandma.
