A Hamburger Today
A Return Visit to Royal Tavern, the Best and Worst Hamburger I Ate in Philadelphia
"Lose the pepper and the bacon and I think there is a very good hamburger lurking in the Royal Tavern."
Royal Tavern
937 E Passyunk Avenue, Philadelphia, PA 19147; map); 215-389-6694; royaltavern.com
Cooking Method: Grilled
Short Order: Contender for Best Burger in Philly
Want Fries with That? Sure; they're served with delicious vinegar mayo. Old Bay seasoning is optional and not necessary, but not objectionable either.
Price: Cheeseburger and fries, $9
Many years ago I was in line at Katz's Deli in New York City waiting for a hot dog. I was third in line and the gentleman at the front ordered a hot dog with ketchup. The counterman balked—"I am not going to ruin it!" he exclaimed, and refused to put ketchup on it, directing the hapless fellow to do it himself. The man in front of me, the counterman, and myself all had a chuckle as the man scampered off to douse his dog. But the counterman flipped out again with the next customer—he requested his hot dog with mayonnaise not knowing that the only condiment that should grace a New York City hot dog is mustard.
I was expecting this type of strict orthodoxy when I visited the fabled cheesesteak stands in Philadelphia. I imagined that onions and whiz were the equivalent of mustard and kraut on a New York dog, and anything further would be met with the type of derision that the poor fellow at Katz's experienced. Contrary to expectations, I witnessed all manner of additions—mayo, lettuce, tomato, peppers, even ketchup—applied to the City of Brotherly Love's favorite sandwich without argument from the gruff countermen.
I should thus not be surprised that Philadelphians seem to embrace all manner of diversity on their burgers. Not that we are necessarily closed minded in New York CIty, but the burgers that most often make the "top lists" in the city are generally straightforward beef, cheese, lettuce, and tomato-topped affairs, such as those from Shake Shack, JG Melon, PJ Clarke's, Peter Luger, and Corner Bistro. In Philadelphia the burgers most often lists in the top lists have all types variations on the standard architecture—some are stuffed, use Kobe beef, or are topped with exotic cheeses. Such is the case with the hamburger at Royal Tavern, a veritable Jenga stack of unorthodox ingredients that the establishment claims is the "best burger in Philadelphia." While I will say it is the best burger I have had in Philadelphia, it is also the first and only (I usually eat cheesesteaks when in town), thus making it the worst.
Speaking of cheesesteaks, Royal Tavern is situated deep in the heart of cheesesteak territory on Passyunk Avenue, the same street that houses the fabled Pat's and Geno's. I suppose the dominance of the cheesesteak in Philadelphia has, to a degree, eclipsed the hamburger, but there does seem to be a burger renaissance of sorts going on with many a new establishment vying for the the title of "best hamburger."
To quote Robyn: "This is one of the worst autopsy shots I've ever taken. Sorry." Apparently there is something about this burger that defies a decent autopsy. Must be the peppers.
The hamburger at Royal Tavern gets the beef-to-bun ratio right, but the loose nature of the bacon, onions, and pepper, combined with its hefty eight-ounce weight, make it somewhat unwieldy. I found the beef to be better seasoned than our own Robyn did on her visit, and it was delivered rare as requested. The beef had a fresh, pure taste, and a decent enough charring on the crust. The disk of gouda was an interesting choice—it added a creaminess matched by the chile mayo and its mild flavor complimented the beef quite nicely. I even liked the bun produced locally by Baker Street Bread. It's purportedly a seeded brioche, but the one I was served was naked and did not have the cloying sweetness that can plague brioche buns.
The real obstacle the burger faces in achieving the synergy that is the hallmark of all great burger experiences is the intensely fiery pepper that essentially obfuscates the other carefully selected components. Robyn reported that the pepper "jolted (her) mouth awake with a slight burning sensation," to which I can only add that The Girl Who Ate Everything must have a strong constitution because I found the sensation anything but slight, and I eat my fair share of spicy food.
Despite hitting some good notes, the burger suffers from too many distractions from the unorthodox ingredients—lose the pepper and the bacon and I think there is a very good hamburger lurking in the Royal Tavern. Perhaps the type of dogmatism that the Katz's counterman displayed is not such a bad thing after all.