The burger: Fans of the double-patty cheeseburger at the former Il Foro, listen up. There's a new double-patty cheeseburger in downtown Minneapolis, and while it's not a carbon copy of Il Foro chef Joe Rolle's exceptional and much-missed cheese-slathered monster, it's got a lot going for it. And then some.
It's the Mercury Burger at the just-opened Mercury Dining Room and Rail, and it's definitely worth a test-drive. As is the restaurant.
At this great-looking new hangout, chef Jeff Woodyard piles on the beef in a major way: 7 1/2 ounces of what's primarily chuck, stretched out, literally, through two very thin, well-seasoned patties that cover the width of the bun. The double patty strategy offers two advantages: speed (a pancake-like patty cooks quickly), and plenty of charred-up flavor. "With two patties, you get twice as much surface to develop all that tasty crust," he said. "We griddle our burgers, and that's twice as many square inches of surface as a single thick patty."
This is an exceptionally cheesy cheeseburger. Woodyard taps two varieties, and both are fairly unlikely: Velveeta, and provolone. Yes, Velveeta, that Creamsicle-orange, melts-on-contact, brick-like American cheese-esque staple of the supermarket dairy case. Oddly, they work well as a team.
"Everyone thinks of processed cheese with such disdain, but Velveeta has such a nice, creamy melt," he said. "And it's one of those flavors that people grew up eating. It's a good throwback to what our Moms fed us as kids." As for the provolone, "It's inert, it doesn't compete," he said. "And by using it, we're not overdoing the Velveeta." Makes sense. The oozy Velveeta goes in between the two patties, and the provolone crowns the top one.
Condiments are kept to a minimum, a decision that firmly accentuates this burger's buttery, cheesy aura. Crunchy pickles add a much-needed acidic punch, and the finishing flourish is a swipe of a mayonnaise-Gulden's Mustard blend. That's it.
As for the poppyseed-topped bun, it's what Woodyard calls "a simple milk bun" that's made for the restaurant by Saint Agnes Baking Co. It's got all the right attributes: tender, airy but sturdy enough to take on the scads of butter that go into the toasting process. Both sides of both halves of the bun get the buttered-and-toasted treatment. "We butter it, and butter it some more, we slather it on," said Woodyard. "We grill it on both sides in a lot of butter. It's an almost borderline greasy bun. It gets nice and crispy and singed, and it takes on a little of that brown butter flavor. It's meant to be a throwback to that greasy diner burger. It's not meant to appease anyone looking to lower their cholesterol, or worry about calories." Trust me, I'm not.
Price: $11.95, a relative bargain, particularly for the neighborhood.