[Photographs: Damon Gambuto]

Beaumont, Texas, could have been among America's wealthiest and biggest cities. It was there that on January 10, 1901, the little salt dome oil field called Spindletop struck oil and the Texas Oil Boom began. Beaumont grew up fast and for a while was thought to be the great Southeast Texas city, but when it came time to decide where the oil industry would find its center, Houston got the nod. This, as I'm told, wasn't so much a missed opportunity, as it was a bit of design by the town's residents. Big oil meant the loss of their small town charm and that didn't seem like a great trade.

These days the grandeur of the Oil Boom is bygone, but the charm hasn't gone anywhere. I travel to this little corner of the Golden Triangle on a semi-regular basis to visit my darling's family. What was once a line item on my American History invoice has become a pleasure that I'd pay twice as much for. Every time I roll into town I know I am going to get treated to some great hospitality and, being that my Texas Mom and Dad have superior taste, some great burgers.

On a trip I took earlier this year they brought me along to an extended family lunch at Hamburger Depot. While it has the look of a local restaurant chain that's chugging up the hill with an "I think I can," when I tasted the burger I knew it had already arrived.

A quick chat with the manager at Beaumont location revealed a small window into the origins of the restaurant. Hamburger Depot dates back to a burger shack in Jasper, Texas, that was home to a smiley owner and a heck of a burger. The current owners bought the place and the recipe and has turned it into a budding chain.

I ordered the Depot Cheeseburger with everything, which meant lettuce, tomato, onion, pickle, and some mayo. Just in case you were wondering, the Hamburger Depot lets you know where those condiments end up with a clever inversion. The menu reads: "All burgers bottomed with lettuce, tomatoes, onions & pickles." As you might imagine, "bottomed" is my new favorite verb.

The burger is a hearty and beautiful looking beast. It's not fancy or overly composed—it's just a fantastic, simple mass of meat, cheese, bread, and veggies. The bun is of the hefty, commercial variety that often can be too bready, but this one is nicely balanced against the half-pound of beef. The cheese was a mix of cheddar and jack that was smooth and gooey and an argument for mixing cheeses. The veggies didn't stand out, but completed the classic flavor that this burger strives for.

Interestingly, the strongest and weakest aspects of this burger were found in the same element. The thick and well-seasoned patty had a fantastic crust that, more and more, I'm coming to believe is a key component in burger greatness; but alas, it was overcooked. Had the patty not been cooked through the juiciness of this burger would have been much more present. While it wasn't dry, it certainly needed some extra fat from the mayo.

The fries were solid fast food spuds, but the real star of the sides menu are the crusty onion rings. The batter was flaky and salted (a proper choice so many overlook) and the onion smooth, but not mushy. It might change through the day as the oil gets more use, but mine got a great, clean frying.

Hamburger Depot may not get the notice of the big boy food lists, but I suspect the folks in Beaumont don't much mind. Theirs is a town that seems happy enough to live just below the radar of the American consciousness. My lovely and loving extended family could live wherever they want (personally, I'm rooting for a West Coast relocation), but they choose to stay and enjoy the life they've known. Each visit they make me feel welcome and show me a new place like Hamburger Depot and I realize that theirs is a life worth knowing.