BURGERS: Nostalgia on a Bun

Back-to-the-basics restaurant burgers find new life in operations that abide by a simple principle: Less is more.

By Christine LaFave, Associate Editor -- Restaurants and Institutions, 10/16/2008 11:33:00 AM

Sometimes it seems like the big guys get all the attention. Stuffed and smothered megaburgers are the burgers that get called out in consumer blogs and on morning talk shows (That burger has how many calories? Is topped with what out-there protein?). But increasingly, the 3/4-pound wonders (and the full-service and quick-service restaurants alike that offer them) are facing a challenge from a fast-rising underdog: the humble, stripped-down hamburger.

Putting the emphasis on quality of ingredients and preparations, newer burger-flipping operations seek to steal some of the limelight by telling diners not just what type of beef is in their patty, but also where it came from. If the meat was ground in-house or has never seen the inside of a freezer, that’s on the menu board, too. Tomatoes? Hand-sliced. Fries? Fresh-cut. Diners may only have two basic choices (hamburger or cheeseburger) and half a dozen simple topping options, but the message to consumers is clear: This is the burger you grew up with—or at least the one you wish you had grown up with.

The appeal seems to be working; witness the juggernaut that is Lorton, Va.-based Five Guys Burgers and Fries, which soared to No. 161 on R&I’s 2008 Top 400 Restaurant Chains list from No. 245 a year ago. Estimated sales for Five Guys doubled as the chain’s unit count grew 93% in that time. Five Guys’ menu offers a hamburger, a cheeseburger, a bacon burger and a bacon cheeseburger (plus “little” versions of each), as well as hot dogs and grilled cheese. No salads, no chicken, no turkey—and yet the chain has units open or in development in 28 states. 

Smaller operations, too, are finding success with the less-is-more formula. Boston-based b.good menus six burgers—made with a house-ground, hand-packed Black Angus beef or all-natural turkey, a house-made veggie patty or oven-baked chicken breast—and no other main-plate items.

“What we always tried to do is make each and every ingredient better than the competition,” Executive Chef Tony Rosenfeld says of the four-unit fast-casual concept. Grinding meat in-house daily allows b.good to pick out lean but flavorful cuts of meat and deliver a product that hasn’t lost flavor or texture by being ground too long before grilling, Rosenfeld says. And receiving produce unprocessed means that b.good can top sandwiches with the freshest house-made guacamole (available, as with cheese and bacon, for $0.49 extra).“It’s putting the cooking back into quick-service restaurants,” says Rosenfeld. 

Simplicity has proved a winner for b.good, too; the concept’s most-popular sandwich is the Cousin Oliver hamburger, topped with the classic quartet of lettuce, tomato, onion and pickles. “Initially we used to do more toppings, but we felt that we wanted to make sure that everything was at its freshest,” he notes. 

Given this new emphasis on simple, real and good, could the all-American hamburger be gaining a sense of near-nobility as a lunchtime choice? Rosenfeld, for one, sees a shift in perception. “People have always related to a burger as something you eat only once a week if not once every couple of weeks,” he says. But at b.good, with the use of leaner beef and unprocessed vegetables and the menuing of baked rather than traditional french fries, the goal is “to allow people to feel good about doing it a couple of days a week.”

The back-to-the-basics-burgers movement finds a similar advocate in Nidal Nazzal, founder and president of San Francisco-based Burger Joint. “I walked out of my house one day and I felt like a good burger, and I didn’t know where to get one,” Nazzal says. “There was not a place that was just totally for burgers—good, old-fashioned, no-fuss, no-mess [burgers].”

After identifying a property available for lease and calling a local farmer who he knew produced organic and sustainable beef, Nazzal was in business. Building an operation that offered burgers designed to meet his standards, however, didn’t necessarily mean creating a concept that resonated with consumers—not immediately, at least.

“Customers initially were a little leery,” says Nazzal, who opened his first Burger Joint in 1994. But as consumer awareness of food-sourcing issues has risen and interest in higher-quality products and made-to-order preparations has grown, the concept has found an audience in burger lovers from assorted demographic groups.

“It’s just an old-fashioned burger,” Nazzal says. “It’s kind of Slow Food.” Other operations might offer 100 different condiments, he adds, but Burger Joint’s goal always has been superior consistency with a limited product line.

The singular focus has proved worthwhile enough to allow the concept to expand to four locations, including one in the international terminal of San Francisco International Airport. “We don’t want to be a restaurant,” notes Nazzal. “We want to be a place where you get a burger.”