[Photographs: David Kover]

I suppose the folks at Spork were destined to take a slightly quirky approach to their New American cuisine by location alone. You don't notice it at first—the faux-Spanish red roof tiles have been repainted grey, and the interior of the squarish, hut-like building has been done up hipster-chic. But then it hits you: This place used to be a Kentucky Fried Chicken. No wonder they named the restaurant after a hokey, though genius, utensil you might find at a KFC and created dishes that follow suit. (Anyone for "Mussels and Pork with a Spork" or "Lazy Ravioli"?).

Like the restaurant's namesake, their In-Side-Out Burger is a goofy hybrid of sorts. Think of a Double-Double from In-N-Out, but sub in fancy-pants ingredients. It's made with two patties of Marin Sun Farms grass-fed meat, slices of Tillamook cheddar, caramelized onions, and a brioche bun.

And here's where things get freaky.

The burger is, as literally as possible, inside out. The bun, of which there is only one piece, sits between the two burger patties—the patties are the bun, and the bun is the patty. Lettuce and tomato sit at the bottom of the pile. This isn't a burger that can be picked up; the whole thing needs to be eaten with a fork and knife. Does this still qualify as a burger in the formal sense? My head hurts.

Given that my intellect may not be up to the task of answering existential burger questions, I'll stick to the preparation and the flavors. The two patties were grilled, spot-on, to my requested medium-rare. The well-seasoned beef boasted a strongly meaty, but also a gamey, grass-fed flavor that I've always found particularly pronounced in Marin Sun Farms meat. It's enjoyable, but may require a little getting used to for the corn-fed beef proponents out there. Although the patties were moist, they weren't juicy—not a whole lot of liquid issued forth when cut into. Maybe for the best, given that there was no bun underneath to catch the flow.

The dominant note amongst the fixings was the caramelized onions spread on top. It had a jam-like quality, both in consistency and sweetness. The "bun" was a single round of toasted brioche cut from the heart of Spork's signature dinner rolls. Sandwiched between the patties the bread got slightly lost, but the sweetness from the onions and the brioche was a nice counterpoint to the gaminess of the meat. The lettuce was a crisp addition to each bite, but the tomatoes weren't that flavorful. Though this is a burger that requires the signifiers of burgerness to work conceptually, I'm a proponent of just saying no to mediocre tomatoes.

Spork takes a creative turn with their potatoes as well. The fries are smashed: They take whole red potatoes, par-boil them, gently crush them, and then toss them in the fryer. They were well salted, and the bites that included crispy rosemary needles were quite delicious. But after more than a few bites, one ends up with a starchy mouthful of too much potato and not enough fried-ness. Judging by the reportedly excellent version of these fries that appeared on AHT earlier this week, I'm wondering if Spork just needs to smash these spuds a little bit flatter.

At Spork, I got a burger that was intellectually engaging. While the beef was tasty—although a little more burger juice would have helped—I didn't get as much pleasure from eating this burger as I had from thinking about it. In its reconstructed novelty, the In-Side-Out Burger was less than the sum of its mostly very good ingredients. Next time I'll look for a burger that I can pick up with my hands and bite into. If there's a little juice that runs down my chin, all the better.