Burger Friday: Meritage, not so fancy after all

The burger: To the casual observer, Meritage possesses many rarefied — and potentially off-putting — French restaurant trappings. Which is why chef/co-owner Russell Klein has featured the epitome of informal accessibility — a burger — on his menu since the day the doors opened in November 2007.

"It was just as the recession was hitting, and everyone was running from French food," he recalled. "Anything remotely associated with fine dining was falling off the map. And so we offered a burger as a way to say, 'It's OK to come in before a Wild game.'"

This is no perfunctory, pandering effort, either. The Meritage burger ranks right up there as one of the Twin Cities' top burger experiences.

Each building block has obviously received careful consideration, starting with the bun. It's the only change that Klein has made to the formula during this burger's nearly nine-year run.

"We switched from the bakery we were originally using — I won't name names — to Rustica," he said. Yep, it's the Rustica brioche bun to the rescue, a gold standard if there ever was one. Klein prefers it because it doesn't fold under pressure. "So often the bun will disintegrate under the juicy patty, but this bun is sturdy enough to hold up," he said. "It's got such a nice flavor. And it's fresh. That's hard to get in this town. You can't make good sandwiches without good bread."

Amen to that. The cheese stands alone, too. For burgerati experiencing American cheese fatigue, Meritage has a solution for you: Emmentaler.

"We wanted something of a French-ified take," said Klein. "Yeah, it's Swiss, but at least it's from that part of the world. I like it because it's got that great bite to it, nice and sharp. And it melts really well."

As for the patty, it's taken to a tasty char on an open-flame grill while managing to preserve plenty of pink inside. It's got a notably substantial heft — no skinny, pancake-flatness here.

"I'm not cool enough to be doing the smashed patty thing," said Klein with a laugh. "I don't have enough tattoos to do that." When I pointed out that he just admitted to being inked, he set me straight. "Actually, not having any tattoos is the new tattoo, right?" he said. "These days, that makes you more of a rebel."

Klein utilizes a pristine grass-fed beef, boosting its flavor and moisture quotients with finely grated onion. "It's something my grandmother used to do," he said, noting that he also tosses in a bit of garlic powder, along with salt and pepper.

Nothing fancy, but it sure works. The patty fairly bursts with bold beefiness, and the one-two-three punch of the shallots, aioli and bun all add up to a greater-than-their-parts equation. And, no, a Wild ticket stub is not required.

Price: $15.

"We put a lot of effort into our fries, despite having a tiny kitchen," said Klein. "From the beginning, we were determined to make fries from scratch. There's such a big difference between fresh fries and frozen fries. It's a lot of work — a lot of labor — and it's expensive to produce. I have a prep cook who spends the first hour of his day doing nothing but blanching fries."

Klein & Co. rely upon straight-up Idaho russets (up to 150 lbs. of them a day), taking them through a painstaking series of steps: cutting, rinsing, blanching, cooling and then blanching again.

"In a lot of ways, they're the hardest thing to get right," said Klein. "We're not doing anything revolutionary, we're just paying attention."

Long, slender, golden and teasingly crispy, this is a skin-on fry, a decision based in part on saving the costs associated with all that peeling.

"But there's also so much more flavor in the skins," said Klein. "The French would say that you have to peel, but the skin is the best part."

A must-order: Despite this recent bout of unseasonably resplendent weather, we're bound to experience another cold snap or two (or three, or four) before spring's actual arrival. The best way to deal with that inevitability is to warm up with a bowl of Klein's soul-stirring chicken soup ($9), a golden elixir that radiates a concentrated chicken flavor (the steam is so heavily perfumed that I'm always tempted to dab it on pulse points; a Chanel-obsessed friend of mine calls this culinary cologne "Chicken Soup No. 5"), one dressed with a monk's discipline and asceticism, just tiny cubes of sweet diced carrots and flavor-enhancing wisps of garden-fresh dill. Oh, and a pair of matzo balls, the kind you wish you could make at home but never can (well, at least this klutzy cook can't). As chicken soups go, it has no equal in the Twin Cities.

Don't, under any circumstances, leave the premises without ordering the gâteau l'opera, a deliriously delicious and beautifully crafted French pastry classic (it's not for nothing that Meritage was just named one of the nation's 21 top French restaurants, by Time Out) that's layer upon layer of almond sponge cake, chocolate and espresso-flavored buttercream. Klein serves it with a mellow coffee ice cream, and it's one of those they-can-never-take-this-off-the-menu items, ranking right up there alongside the much-missed Vincent's Favorite Childhood Dessert (madeleines, ice cream and chocolate sauce) from the late, great Vincent. It's so good that, even at $10.50, it feels like a bit of a steal.

Where he burgers: "I'm not much of a burger aficionado," said Klein. "But we live within walking distance of the Nook, so when Desta [Klein's spouse and business partner] gets a burger craving, that's where we go."

One final note: Klein is a 2016 semifinalist for the James Beard Foundation's Best Chef: Midwest award (finalists are announced Tuesday, March 15). If every member of the Beard voting pool had a crack at Meritage's burger and fries, Klein would be a shoo-in.

Address book: 410 St. Peter St., St. Paul, 651-222-5670. Open for lunch at 11 a.m. Tuesday through Friday, open for dinner at 5 p.m. Tuesday through Sunday and open for brunch at 10 a.m. Saturday and Sunday. "It's the same burger at lunch, dinner and brunch," said Klein. "If Meritage is open, the burger is available."