Burger Friday: Bellying up to the bar at Whole Foods Market

The burger: Just about the last place I expected to indulge in a decadent burger was at Whole Foods Market, that quinoa-fueled paean to healthy living.

But at the chain's extraordinary new St. Paul store (seriously, it makes its worn-out Fairview-and-Grand predecessor look like a 30-year old Aldi) boasts all kinds of innovations, including the Selby Bar & Grill, which is exactly what it sounds like: a casual, well-staffed hangout that's a supplement to the store's juice bar and pizza and sushi counters. It even has a slight (emphasis on slight) sports-bar vibe; on the day I visited, the place was packed, and the attention of more than half of my fellow diners was firmly glued to the Final Four game playing on the TV screen hanging behind the bar.

At the center of the quick-service menu (breakfast all day, grilled sandwiches, deep-fried snacks) lies a trio of cheeseburgers. Nothing innovative — one is topped with blue cheese and mushrooms, another with Cheddar and bacon, and the third is a straight-up California style, with American cheese, lettuce, tomato and onion. They're not pretending to be anything other than what they are, which is bar burgers. But who needs cutting edge when the outcome is this good?

My "Classic" burger (that's the Californian) was terrific. The thick-ish patty had to have weighed in around a third of a pound, and it came off the flattop grill (roughly seven minutes after we ordered) with a gently crusty char and a semi-pink interior that exuded mouth-watering juices at each bite.

The ground beef was intensely flavorful and seasoned with a light touch, using a paprika-garlic-onion powder mix and salt and pepper, just enough to further enhance the meat's inherently rich, mineral-ey flavor. It's sourced from Open Prairie Natural Angus, a collection of four South Dakota ranches, and of course the good folks at Whole Foods supplied the beef's bonafides: "The ground beef comes from cattle raised without antibiotics, without added hormones or beta agonists, with no animal byproducts in their feed. They are raised on pasture or range for at least two-thirds of their lives, have continuous, unobstructed access to the outdoors even with housing provided and protection from heat or cold stress and from extreme weather." Sidenote: It also has a superior flavor and texture.

Another reason to cheer? The bun. So good. It's a looker, with the sesame seed-studded top baked to a deep, almost glistening mahogany. I suspect it's a brioche-based formula, and it's sturdy (with all those beefy juices, it needs to be) yet it doesn't veer into lifeless and dry territory (One suggestion: giving it a toast would have improved on any already good thing). My hope is that it was made on the premises, but oddly, no. Turns out it's shipped north, out of a commercial bakery in suburban Chicago. Not exactly the most locavorian move on Whole Foods' part. Also, you'd think that the store would want to cross-promote its own successes, right? Something along the lines of, "You liked our burger? Well, make one at home, using our house-baked buns!" Nope.

(The store does stock a soft, super-eggy brioche bun from Euro Classic, an East Coast frozen-foods specialty company. They run about $6 per half-dozen; find them near the meat department. They're fantastic.)

And forget about Heinz. The store has the good sense to stock the restaurant with its own 365 Everyday Value house brand condiments. I usually keep a bottle of 365 ketchup in my refrigerator — it's got a brighter tomato bite than Heinz, and it's not as sweet — and seeing it on the bar reminded me that I had to pick up a bottle before I left. See how that works, Whole Foods honchos?

Price: $8, a great value; none of that "Whole Paycheck" reputation here. In fact, the store should market it as a 365 Everyday Value. And with that, I pledge to stop doing the work of the store's marketing department.

Fries: Included, and a disappointment. They start out with such promise — they're hand cut on the premises, and fried in a non-GMO canola oil (this is Whole Foods, after all) — but the results were limp and soggy, and they were crying out for more salt (this is Whole Foods, after all). An alternative is ordering the broccoli tots. Irresistible, right? I mean, "tots" suggests deep-fried (and therefore, Not Good For Me), but "broccoli" feels synonymous with healthy, so how bad can they be? Unfortunately, they were unavailable that day. Next time.

Raise your glass: The Selby wins major brownie points for its tap beer list, a dozen discerning Minnesota-made choices from Indeed Brewing Co., Surly Brewing Co., Bad Weather Brewing Co., Fulton Brewing Co., Lake Superior Brewing Co. and Harriet Brewing. It's what a local craft beer lover might encounter at a south Minneapolis gastropub, not a national supermarket chain. The wine list isn't too shabby, either, with 16 by-the-glass choices (including two sparkling options), in the $5-to-$8 range.

Technology first: Naturally, tech-driven Whole Foods makes it easy for customers to get in and out, with an easy-to-navigate, pad-based ordering system. Or, place your order with one of the friendly, hard-working humans behind the counter. Either way, it's a no-tipping zone.