The Hauteburger

With Ronald McDonald and his enterprising buddies taking over the world, the future generations will never know the taste of a real, honest-to-griddled hamburger. Not that we're knocking McDonald's or competitive franchises. They offer a reasonably nutritious package--no extenders, no binders, moderate fat content--at a fair price. And fast There's only one drawback--it just doesn't taste! like a hamburger. McDonald's tacitly concedes this point. They're most reluctant to sell a burger without its designated garnish, sauce or lubricant. Every Big Mac, for instance, comes with an obligatory lathering of Big Mac Sauce--a sweetish, pickle-flecked (continued on page 158) Hauteburger (continued from page 119) mayonnaise-type spread, the constituents of which McDonald's mercifully shrouds in secrecy.

There's general agreement on the criteria for an all-American hamburger. You want it crusty on the outside but not petrified, plump and slightly puffy rather than dense, moist, oozing juices--preferably ruddy juices--and it must have a clean beefy taste and aroma. The degree of cooking and seasoning is subjective, but hamburger purists prefer theirs rare to medium rare and moderately spiced--salt, pungent pepper, perhaps a whisper of onion, a touch of garlic and not much else, or the lusty beefy quality will be masked.

Hamburger is simple food and, like most simple dishes, it is difficult to prepare superbly. Everything depends on the beef and the handling, and there's very little margin for error--no complex sauces or esoteric spices to cover up shortcomings. Feinschmeckers in quest of the superburger resort to expensive meat such as sirloin, round or filet ... a logical move, considering the practice with steaks and roasts. As it happens, chuck cuts are preferable for hamburger. They tend to be more succulent and richer in beef flavor, since they get more exercise and more blood circulation. For that very reason, chuck is also tougher, but that's the point about hamburger; it was devised as a way of making tasty, resistant cuts palatable. Chopping or grinding is the ultimate tenderizer, breaking up the connective tissue and any sinew that hasn't been trimmed away.

An essential of good hamburger beef is freshness. If you buy prepackaged ground meat, you're starting with one strike against you. Regardless of what you may have heard, Federal regulations do not cover fresh ground meat sold in retail shops. Local ordinances are generally based on the U.S.D.A. regulations. Since these are geared to large interstate operators who service institutions and fast-food chains, they're not too stringent, allowing a fat content of 30 percent, which is high.

With rare exceptions, the better hamburger places will run a fat content of around 20 percent. A notable exception is Manhattan's Coach House restaurant, whose hamburger is ground from the triangle, a petite sirloin cut devoid of cover fat but nicely marbled. When ground, it makes a lean, moist mixture. The chef grinds it fresh before each meal--once through the machine, medium fine. Nothing is added; no salt, pepper, eggs or crumbs--and handling is minimal. After grinding, the meat is lightly and quickly coaxed into an oval shape, then broiled at a high temperature for rare or medium rare. When longer cooking is required, heat is reduced after the surface has crusted, to avoid charring. Its wide diameter ensures a greater amount of pink meat and juices, even when cooked medium or beyond. This is practically a primer on the art of hamburgery and James Beard, along with other members of the food establishment, is partial to the Coach House burger. (He likes it rare.)

The Coach House is an extreme example, but gentle handling is a clue to the quality of all fine burgers. Tom Margittai, co-owner of the Four Seasons restaurant, contends that the spatula is responsible for more ruined hamburgers than a corps of Army cooks. Don't lean on a burgers, don't spank it, pat it or flip it back and forth. Short-order chefs often go through such antics to reduce cooking time, but it's bad practice and makes the meat pasty, dense and dry. Margittai, who has done experimental work on chopped beef, says it isn't a burger if it doesn't go on a bun. "The Four Seasons serves a ten-ounce Chopped Steak. We use a different cut of meat and treat it differently than we would for hamburger." His personal burger recipe calls for four to five ounces of chuck, ground once--not too finely--about an inch thick. Season lightly but eschew salt. "Draws out the blood." Chill for about 15 minutes, then grill in a heavy pan at high heat--three to four minutes on each side. Home broilers are not favored by Margittai and other food-service professionals. They don't get hot enough and tend to steam the burger. Microwave ovens are taboo. They cook the meat from the inside out, producing limp, sodden, gray artifacts.

Chefs whose sole experience is with classic cuisine are often perplexed by the lack of subtlety of the American "ombourger." André Soltner, Lutèce patron, has never eaten a hamburger at a cafeteria, roadside stand or, for that matter, at a distinguished grazing ground such as "21"--nor does he intend to. But he knows it wouldn't appeal to his palate. His alternative suggestion is Steak Haché, which he considers classically French. Steak Haché starts with a small onion sautéed briefly in a 90-percent-peanut-oil, 10-percent-olive-oil combination. The onion and one half cup of soft bread crumbs moistened with a bit of milk are ground with one pound of beef sirloin, twice, at a medium setting. Combine with a whole egg, a sprinkle of parsley, salt, pepper and a little cold water if it looks dry. Shape into three steaks; sauté in clarified sweet butter, four to five minutes on each side. Serve on a plate with pan juices poured over and a garnish of water cress. No bun or relish, both of which M. Soltner deplores. Well, it's an entirely acceptable product but not quite what you'd expect in a hamburger. Somehow more hachis, hash, than haché, chopped--lacking the snap and pure, clean beefy taste of a true burger.

Soltner's approach is quite restrained compared with the contortions other European chefs so through "to add interest and complexity" to the simple burger. Larousse Gastronomique's recipe for Biftek à la Hambourgeoise, subtitled Steak à l'Allemande in deference to the hamburger's German connection, calls for two eggs to three fourths of a pound of ground sirloin or tenderloin, shaped into four cakes, dredged in flour and fried. The result is something reminiscent of a hockey puck.

Eating hamburger is often a matter of time, convenience or habit, but nibbling a burger at "21" is an exercise in chic. The tab is $8, à la carte, at lunch, $9.50 in the evening--a buck more if you crave a cheeseburger. This pays for the glamorous, albeit noisy, surroundings, the notables at the next banquette, the book of "21" matches that shows people you've been there, a few green beans and some right fancy eating. The "21" burger has a style all its own, due in equal measure to preparation, presentation and such ingredients as nutmeg and celery. Two pounds of sirloin and sirloin trimmings are put twice through a medium grinder. Add an egg, one fourth cup finely chopped cooked celery, one fourth cup soft bread crumbs, a dash of Worcestershire sauce, salt and freshly ground pepper to taste. Combine without overworking, using rapid motions. Shape into three or four cakes (the "21" burger is ten ounces and close to two inches thick), fry quickly in hot oil or shortening until well browned. Finish in a preheated oven, 350° Fahrenheit, about five minutes more for rare--or blue, as they call it. Before it is served, the burger is anointed with Sauce Madeira, beurre noir and chopped parsley. On a good day, there may be 80 burger orders at lunch alone, so lots of people, including Howard Cosell, Otto Preminger and Joan Fontaine, must like it this way. But if you dig good, honest fare, you may find the sauce an intrusion. Perhaps the late Aristotle Onassis, a "21" regular and hamburger freak, had the right idea. He had his burger divided into two smaller burgers, each served on half a toasted English muffin, with "21" Sauce Maison. This bold, penetrating, aromatic amalgam of various mustards, tomatoes, horseradish and spices contributes substantially to the renowned hamburger it accompanies.

Originally, condiments or garnishes were used as a counterpoint to the lusty beef, but, as the meat flavor diminished, the assorted relishes increased. Today, it's pretty nearly the whole game to those who habitually order burgers "with everything." A buff doesn't want his burger overwhelmed by the garnish. Other than that, the possibilities are wide. There's no need to list familiar staples, but if you come across Garden Salad--a crisp, sweet-sour pickle of thinly sliced cukes, carrots and onions--or pickled green tomatoes, try them. Among the more esoteric toppings are bottled Sauce Robert or Sauce Diable, pizza sauce and mozzarella, chili with beans, fried egg, sour cream and caviar (that's a czarburger), pineapple ring and bacon (that's a hulaburger), roquefort cheese (right, that's a Blue Max) and, from California--land of the overdressed hamburger--avocado burgers, nut burgers and bison burgers.

If European chefs are puzzled by the hamburger, there's no doubt about their attitudes toward the bun. They abhor it! And so do most other self-respecting trenchermen. The best thing to do with these cottony, plasticized pads is throw them out. If you have to use them, toast or grill them cut side down for no more than a minute. Much better are Kaiser rolls, English muffins, a segment of French or Italian bread, even fresh sour-rye bread. Leon Lianides, of Coach House eminence, recommends a bun made from brioche dough. Since we haven't tried it yet, we won't knock it.

No doubt you've got the message, but it bears repeating--shun prepackaged ground beef. You can buy a solid chunk of chuck clod or cross rib and have the butcher trim it as necessary, then grind it. Local regulations often require meat to be ground out front, where the customer can see it. If you can, grind your own--it's no trouble at all. A home grinder is almost a necessity for burger buffs. There are three options. One, old-fashioned hand cranks: They work, but you supply the power. Should be on the heavy side, with clamp-on feature. Two, unipurpose electric grinders: They do only one job--grinding. The strength of the motor, stall-out potential and ease of cleaning are things to check. Oster and Hamilton Beach are among the better brands. Three, multiprocess machines: Much more expensive than grinders, but they do much more. Cuisinart and Vita Mix chop well and simplify a variety of kitchen chores. There are others. Investigate thoroughly before you buy.

With a proper grinder and a heavy skillet, you can prepare hamburger as good as or better than any a restaurant will provide; that is, if you have the greatest hamburger recipe in the world--which we are happy to provide.

[recipe_title]World's Greatest Hamburger[/recipe_title]

(Easy does it!)

[recipe]1-1/4 lbs. cross rib or other solid cut from the chuck[/recipe]

[recipe]1 clove garlic[/recipe]

[recipe]1/4--1/2 teaspoon fresh Malabar black pepper[/recipe]

[recipe]Salt[/recipe]

Trim away outside fat and cut meat into strips 1 in. by 1/2 in. Put garlic through press and rub paste evenly over strips. Sprinkle with Malabar pepper, fine or butcher grind, according to taste. Meanwhile, sprinkle heavy, stainless-steel or steel-clad skillet lightly with salt and heat. You'll want a good-sized pan--burgers don't like crowding. Grind meat medium fine, once. Fat specks should be fairly evenly distributed. Shape into 3 cakes, about 1 in thick, working with 2 forks or hands dipped in ice water. Just coax meat together, don't compress. Grill in heated pan, 3 to 4 minutes on each side, turning once. Free burgers from pan after 1/2 minute with thin, flexible spatula. If you like your burgers better done, reduce heat and cook longer or form into thinner cakes. Chefs test the degree of doneness with a quick squeeze in the middle--the more it gives, the rarer the meat. It's a trick you can learn with a little experience and it's worth knowing, since cooking times vary so, depending on degree and type of heat, grind and composition of meat, handling, etc. Serve on a light, crisp Kaiser roll or a section of French bread just large enough to accommodate your burger. You may add additional salt and pepper if you like and relishes of your choice. Thinly sliced sweet onions and a modicum of catsup spiked with Dijon mustard are apt complements. When serving burgers to a group, you might set out an assortment of condiments and relishes and let the customers fix their own.

This is your basic burger. You can modify it to suit your taste with any of the following additions to the meat: finely chopped water chestnuts, sweet onions, parsley, diced mushrooms, minced chives or spring onions, chutney, grated cheddar, parmesan, natural gruyère or smoked mozzarella, tomato purée, bourbon, cognac, dry red wine; seasonings: oregano, cumin, curry powder, chili powder, shallots, nutmeg, Hungarian (hot) paprika, marjoram, dry mustard, Tabasco, Worcestershire sauce, barbecue sauce, soy sauce, hoisin sauce; toppings: cheese (aged emmentaler is hard to beat), smoked ham or Canadian bacon, side bacon, fried onion rings, fried egg (à cheval), espagnole sauce or Bordelaise sauce, piccalilli or any of the standard relishes. James Beard advocates the addition of heavy cream. Outdoor chefs cooking over hot charcoal sometimes enclose ice chips or half an ice cube in a burger to keep it moist and rare. There's only one inviolable rule--no mayonnaise garnish. That borders on the barbaric.

[recipe_title]Vino Burger[/recipe_title]

Prepare basic meat mixture and shape into burgers, as above. Place in refrigerator until required.

Wine Sauce: Sauté briefly 1 teaspoon finely minced shallots in 3 ozs. butter. Do not let butter brown. Add 1/2 cup zinfandel or other dry red table wine and simmer until well reduced.

Grill or broil burgers, brushing frequently with wine sauce. Burgers may be served on buns or open face on lightly toasted slices of French bread. Heat remaining sauce and take to the table with burgers.

[recipe_title]Big Skillet Burger[/recipe_title]

[recipe]1 lb. beef chuck, ground[/recipe]

[recipe]1/4 teaspoon pepper, medium grind[/recipe]

[recipe]4 small mushrooms, diced[/recipe]

[recipe]3/4 lb. potatoes[/recipe]

[recipe]1/4 cup oil (approximate)[/recipe]

[recipe]Salt[/recipe]

[recipe]2 medium onions, coarsely chopped[/recipe]

[recipe]3 English-muffin halves, lightly toasted and buttered[/recipe]

[recipe]3 eggs[/recipe]

Lightly combine beef, pepper and mushrooms. Form into 3 plump patties and place in refrigerator until required. Peel potatoes, slice thin, blot between paper towels. Heat oil in large skillet. Add potatoes and salt; fry 5 minutes, turning occasionally. Move to side of pan; add onions and fry 2 minutes--push to other side of pan. Add burgers and sauté 3 to 4 minutes on each side, or to taste. Turn potatoes and onions occasionally. When onions are golden, put them on top of burgers, so they keep warm but don't brown. Place burgers on English-muffin halves, onions on top. Fry eggs sunny side up. Place on burgers, season to taste. Serve with side of potatoes. This can also be served on a platter, without muffins.

[recipe_title]Mystery Burger[/recipe_title]

[recipe]2 lbs. lean chuck, ground[/recipe]

[recipe]3 ozs. butter[/recipe]

[recipe]2 tablespoons lemon juice[/recipe]

[recipe]2 tablespoons chopped parsley[/recipe]

[recipe]1 shallot[/recipe]

[recipe]1/4 teaspoon fresh black pepper[/recipe]

[recipe]Salt[/recipe]

Combine butter, lemon juice and parsley. Divide into 4 portions and place in refrigerator to chill. Put shallot through garlic press; add juice and pulp along with pepper to meat. Combine lightly. Form into 8 flattish patties. Place lemon-butter mixture on 4 of the patties; distribute as evenly as possible to 1/4 in. of edge. Top with remaining 4 patties. Moisten fingers and pinch patties together along rim to seal. Cook in hot, lightly greased pan about 3 minutes on each side, turning once. Handle gently, so as not to tear. Season to taste. Serve at once.

Variations:

Substitute poached beef marrow for butter in mixture.

Substitute a minced-ham-and-grated-cheese mixture for lemon-butter mixture.

Substitute a slice of tomato between 2 slices of American cheese, trimmed to size, for the lemon-butter mixture.

[recipe_title]Orient Express[/recipe_title]

[recipe]1 lb. lean chuck, ground[/recipe]

[recipe]1 small clove garlic[/recipe]

[recipe]1 tablespoon soy sauce[/recipe]

[recipe]1 teaspoon hoisin sauce[/recipe]

[recipe]1 small green onion, minced[/recipe]

[recipe]3 water chestnuts, finely chopped[/recipe]

Put garlic clove through press. Mix all ingredients lightly and shape into 4 plump burgers. Grill in hot, lightly greased skillet about 4 minutes on each side. Serve on quickly grilled or toasted buns. This may be presented with the usual relish or a sauce made with 1 tablespoon soy sauce, 1 tablespoon rice vinegar, 1 teaspoon honey--or to taste--a dash of Tabasco, and toasted sesame seeds or minced green onion, if you like.

Despite its Germanic name, hamburger is as American as applejack. The groundmeat patty on a bun made its debut at the 1904 Louisiana Purchase Exposition in St. Louis and became an instant hit. It's good eating any time or place--at lunch, dinner or in bed. So get together with the burger of your choice and a suitably appreciative companion--and proceed with relish and gusto!