
Everybody seems to love smashburgers - extremely smashed smashburgers - these days. I don't get it. Perfectly good beef is being smashed down flat, sizzled within an inch of its life on a griddle and then slapped on a bun. This isn't just a thin patty, but a pounded-to-pancake-proportions situation.
The hype around one NYC smashburger spot - Hamburger America - has been steady. I finally gave into the siren's call of their Fried Onion Burger. I ventured to SoHo and sidled up a retro-styled counter that made me feel like I had just walked into an Archie comic book. The smell of butter and grease clung to the air, but not necessarily in a bad way. Maybe this time, I would be pleasantly surprised.
Hmmm...I did like the look of the line cook mounding fistfuls of paper-thin onions on top of the meat, squishing it together, pressing it down onto the griddle with the back of a big spatula. And, then there was the sizzle and heady aroma of the onions caramelizing. Maybe the New York Times was right in naming Hamburger America to its list of the top 100 restaurants in the city. Was it possible that I had finally found a smashburger that would have me swooning?
Unfortunately, no. It was too much grease and crunch - and to top it off, it was encased in a butter-toasted bun. In other words, it tasted like a hockey puck met a heart attack.
Am I open to trying another seriously flattened smashburger? I am always willing to try, but I am keeping my expectations low. Not flat. Low.