Culver's is Delicious, Confusing

The Drivers became fans of Culver's while on vacation in Minnesota. On a highway just north of Moose Lake, we saw a billboard that advertised something called a "ButterBurger". We weren't sure what that meant, but we were certain that we needed to find out.

Note: The Driver later learned that the inspiration for the "ButterBurger" might be this place — where the burger is actually served swimming in an obscene amount of butter. Culver's might put something similar to butter on its buns prior to grilling, but in no way does that compare to an actual "ButterBurger". The Driver will be trying a true "ButterBurger" as soon as possible.

Anyhow, The Drivers also learned that the Wisconsin-born burger chain sells not only "ButterBurgers", but frozen custard as well. And that in addition to chocolate and vanilla frozen custard, Culver's offers a Flavor of the Day.

All that to show you this — a photo of a Culver's sign:

The Drivers opted for chocolate custard over "BBQ Brisket".

And as long as we're dissecting the Culver's sign, it has always been The Driver's opinion that the company should have paid the extra $5 per sign for an ampersand after the word "Custard". Or perhaps splurged on the word "and" in front of "ButterBurgers".

Instead, The Driver pores over the concept of a "Frozen Custard ButterBurger".

Mmm... Frozen Burger...

For Those Who Live Near a Whataburger

Click here to get free food and drinks from the greatness of Whataburger.

And if you know The Driver, he's already signed up, thanks. But you get points for thinking of him.

Double Burger Days

Every once in a while The Driver has not one, but two cheeseburgers in the same day. A few days ago, it happened again.

For lunch, The Driver checked Hole in the Wall off his "Burgers To Try" list. Then, when dinner rolled around, Mrs. Driver suggested Mooyah. And who is The Driver to argue?

After all, The Driver recently pulled off a cheeseburger feat typically reserved for the most seasoned burger aficionado — namely, George Motz of Hamburger America fame.

On a single day in October, The Driver had a burger for lunch at The Workingman's Friend in Indianapolis. Hours later, The Driver enjoyed his second cheeseburger of the day at Graffiti Burger — in Columbus, Ohio.

Two burgers. Two cities. One glorious burger day for The Driver.

Speaking of burgers, some dude on the Web has several pages devoted to cheeseburgers and reviews of burger joints. His tastes and opinions are remarkably similar to those of The Driver. Check out his Cheeseburger Compendium.

Happy National Cheeseburger Day

Thanks to our friend Presh for notifying The Driver that today is National Cheeseburger Day.

It's on the Internet, so it must be true.

The Driver ate a cheeseburger at his local Whataburger yesterday. Does this count?

Meatheads Overthinks Burgers

The Driver Family went out for their first burger lunch.

And it was just okay.

Meatheads is located in a somewhat fancy suburban shopping center. That should have been our first clue. Inside, the space was undergoing somewhat of a transition -- the proprietors having just taken over the space from a previously tried and failed burger concept. The walls were bare -- save for a few dry-erase menu boards and some beer posters (the free kind provided by the beer distributor). Sparse -- and not in a good way. Kind of sad, actually.

As for the burger, it was satisfying -- for a non-contender. The bun was tasty and well-toasted. But someone should have mentioned that red onions were a no-no. Still, while leaf lettuce is also grounds for disqualification, Meatheads balanced out the universe by shredding theirs for better texture.

And then there's the patty. For the record, The Driver is a proponent of the fried (on a griddle) variety. There is no room in The Driver's world for a store-bought burger that's cooked indoors on any kind of grill, flame-broiler or other wood-burning, smoke-inducing contraption. People who want to enjoy a grilled burger can make one in outdoors and on their own time. Even then, The Driver doesn't recognize their existence.

The Meatheads patty, while evil, did have a nice smoky flavor.

Good fries. Good fountain drinks (a Coke for Mrs. Driver, and a Dr Pepper for The Driver). Not much else.

Good thing The Precious Cargo isn't eating solid food just yet.

Burgers + Legos + Interwebs = Greatness.

Wrong on So Many Levels

Ask for "The Mailman." Then be quiet.

Joe's Hamburger Place

2423 Blanco Road

San Antonio, TX

Where do we start? Just look at this place. This is it. Two doors, one counter, five or six stools. One A.M. radio playing VERY conservative talk shows. Several VERY conservative posters / images adorning the walls. Think: "Jesus holding an American flag with a bald eagle on his shoulder," or "Jesus riding a bald eagle that's holding an American flag in its talons," or "Jesus clenching an American flag in his teeth while holding a bald eagle on a leash, and he's flying behind the bald eagle as if it were some kind of winged horse pulling a Jesus chariot."

This is the kind of place that only The Driver's brother could find. The kind of place about which the typically food-adventurous Mrs. Driver draws the line.

Inside are four or so guys ranging in age from 20 to 122. They don't say much. They're simple folk. Or maybe they just know better.

Behind the counter is a woman. She is somewhere between the ages of 70 and 97. She doesn't speak. She takes orders. She puts patties on the grill. She assembles burgers. When she does speak, it's to announce a price or to recite the names of a few soft drink options. One of these options is "Big Red." She calculates change longhand with a pencil on the formica counter. There are dozens of new and ancient addition and subtraction problems on said counter.

The grill probably outdates the building. I speculate silently that the building may have been constructed around the grill.

The brother advises me and Mr. Driver, Sr. to simply order "The Mailman." He doesn't know why. He's just been told. And it's worked for him before.

What happens next is fuzzy. A large, amorphous mass of beef is placed on the grill. Later, it is placed on a bun with some toppings. The cheese may or may not have been added when the patty was on the grill. Details are sketchy, as we were distracted by the scratchy voice of the ultra-conservative talk show host. And we dared not linger over the process -- let alone ask for clarification.

Why "The Mailman"? Is it what the mail carrier orders each day? Is it sized to satisfy the appetite of an archetypical "man" who spends his day trudging through metaphorical rain or sleet or snow or dark of night? Is it made from the remains of a postal worker who was foolish enough to ask for fries? Was he a dang liberal?

All you need to know, dear Reader, is that it was well worth the anxiety, the awkwardness and the disapproving looks from Mrs. Driver.