Diners named this Raleigh’s best burger, so we tried it. Here’s what happened
The best burger might be the next burger.
So it’s best to eat with our hearts open.
For more than a decade the Great American Burger has been in a constant state of shape-shifting, growing trendy and decadent, taller then thinner, saucy then simple — all pushing and pulling this classic dish every which way imaginable.
Two years ago, in a News & Observer poll, Raleigh said the city’s best burger was at a brewery: the Belgian-styled Neuse River Brewery.
Food is generally an after-thought at breweries, if it’s thought of at all. But in recent years some of the Triangle’s top breweries have added dining options well beyond pub grub.
Neuse River might be at the top of that class, serving ambitious food and dishes like steamed mussels, seared duck breast and a seasonal risotto. The burger might be the most casual thing on the menu, but it’s also the most popular, according to its creator, chef and Neuse River co-owner Steve Jankowski.
Built in a warehouse on the edge of a neighborhood, Neuse River captures the arc of brewery development trends, taking over industrial spaces and turning them into local bars. Neuse River Brewing opened in 2015, moving into a Five Points East neighborhood in Raleigh where charming residential streets blend into commercial warehouses now filled with breweries and a doughnut shop.
A burger with a point of view
Inspired by bars and pubs in Europe, co-owner Ryan Kolarov said Neuse River added a kitchen with greater ambitions than just snacks to share while drinking. After two years of rotating food trucks, the brewery added a brasserie, building a kitchen behind the bar, with a large silver hood flanked by tall windows.
Instead of nachos there’s a roast chicken, instead of counter service there are servers. Instead of a burger meant for everyone, there’s a burger with a point of view.
Neuse River’s burger is based on Jankowski’s taste, the chef said in 2021, a burger built with a European sensibility, largely rejecting the formality of vegetables in favor of pure rich flavor.
It’s a true restaurant burger: a thick patty griddled on a slick flat-top, standing out from the trendy smashburgers of today and even the smoky grilled burgers from a backyard.
“It’s just something people are familiar with, if they can’t decide on any other options, they’re probably comfortable with a burger,” Jankowski said in 2021. “I put everything I like on burgers into it.”
The Neuse River Burger Taste Test
On this Sunday afternoon, an end-of-April thunderstorm rumbled through and soaked the patio outside while wrapping the brewery in a gray cloud.
Diners trickled in with their shirts pulled high over their shoulders, choosing to make a run for it in the rain rather than loiter another moment in their cars.
The biggest surprise was seeing tables with no beers or burgers. Diners were there simply for brunch, called to a brewery by eggs Benedict and shrimp and grits, not a heady Belgian tripel in the afternoon.
Looking to keep it on the light side, I ordered the basic lager called “Locals Only,” which arrived so pale and straw-colored you’d think it was a Mic Ultra. But instead of bland fizz, this was a rich, crispy beer tasting toasted and light.
But we were there for a burger.
Alas, the Neuse River fryer was broken on the Sunday afternoon we stopped in. Our server returned to deliver the news and ask if I wanted home fries or a salad. I didn’t fully grasp what a broken fryer would mean for the Neuse River burger until it arrived, suddenly realizing that the famed mound of crispy onion straws had to be omitted.
But for me, this was a familiar burger. For 20 years I ordered every burger plain with cheese, uninterested and afraid of what mustard and onions might do to me. Shying away from flavor and texture, I was the most dreaded of all culinary restrictions: a picky eater. So this burger, while incomplete, was an old friend.
The cheese on my burger looked like a scoop of ice cream quickly melting on a July blacktop, spreading across the patty as a gooey mound studded with mustard seeds. The toasted bun was smeared with garlicky aioli and the burger itself was charred black and glistening with grease. There were pickles, sour and sharp, there for crunch and to cut ever so slightly through the richness.
But even before the first bite, this burger was always tinged with wonder of what could have been. When there are really only a handful of ingredients, missing the crunchy, savory onion straws left me with more than a side of FOMO.
When reviewing restaurants for The News & Observer, former dining critic Greg Cox would have at least three meals before rendering a verdict. Because sometimes you have the greatest burger in the world. And sometimes the fryer is broken.
This story was originally published May 8, 2023 at 9:14 AM.
