The burger: Adding a burger to the menu at Scena Tavern "was a little bit of a joke," said chef Erik Anderson.
The nearby McDonald's had curtailed its dining room's late-night hours, "we thought we should do a Big Mac tribute," he said. Let's just say that Anderson & Co. nailed it, and then some, paying proper respect to the qualities that make the double-patty classuc the Big Mac, but improving upon them, big time.
"The burger is not something you should re-invent," said Anderson. "It's something that should be well-thought out." Truer words were never spoken.
The magic begins with the bun. Baker Johnny Silvera doesn't fully embrace the brioche-style bun, but it's safe to say that the outcome is brioche-adjacent. And it's a total knockout, baked to a deep mahogany and sliced into the requisite triple-layer Big Mac format.
The tops are studded with black sesame seeds ("It's the anti-Big Mac," said Anderson) and the kitchen crew isn't content to leave well enough alone. Instead, they give them a sublime finishing touch by liberally bushing the insides with beef fat that's rendered with herbs, then hand them a good, long toast on the grill (also brushed with that flavorful fat), burnishing those flat surfaces to a delicate crispiness. Meanwhile, the steam from that sizzling beef fat rises, warming and softening the rest of the bun. Even the most dedicated carb-avoider will find this bun to be completely irresistible.
Ditto the patty. Sorry, patties. Talk about the anti-Big Mac; Anderson fashions them from leftover trim off the menu's boneless short ribs entrée, grinding that prized beef and then forming it into 3 ½ ounce balls. They're pressed into thin, sort-of circular patties on the flattop grill, brushed with more of that herb-enriched beef fat, and then carefully watched over. "We treat it almost like fish," said Anderson. "We crisp one side, then barely crisp the other."
They leave the stove a spot-on medium, with bits of crisped-up, mouth-watering char on their surfaces, and then the Big Mac-ization begins.
Shredded iceberg lettuce? Check. (Excellent) pickle chips? Check. Enough straight-up American cheese to invoke the word blanket? Check. The finishing touch is Anderson's version of McD's special sauce, a winning mix of mayonnaise, ketchup, mustard, onion and chopped pickles, held together via the vinegar-ey bite of extra pickle juice.
