Let’s talk about burger cravings, and specifically, a common misfortune that follows.
Maybe you’ve had a burger on the mind for a while, potentially through a slog of tedious meetings or the final miles of a long hike. You imagine the juicy and well-seasoned patty, the perfect sauce, the crunch of lettuce, the soft bun. Finally, you give in to the craving and are feeling stoked on your way to whatever dining establishment you’ve chosen to satisfy it.
And then it arrives: dry, bland, and barely resembling the masterpiece you’ve constructed in your mind. You eat it anyway, leaving the craving unsatisfied and adding the feeling that now you need to go to the gym or take a nap.
How is it that the burger, a staple on nearly every menu, is so seldom done well? I can’t be alone in this frustration.
Long ago I heard about the burger at Club Paris downtown. It is only served during lunch, creating an allure of scarcity, and they are made with ground filet mignon leftover from dinner service the night before.
I know Club Paris is an Anchorage historical icon, opening pre-quake in 1957. But steakhouses aren’t typically my thing. I’d eaten a forgettable dinner there once (admittedly, I probably ordered something dumb, like the teriyaki chicken) and for a decade I didn’t go back.
But this month, after yet another dried out patty on a stale bun at a different, very popular spot in town, I finally tried the burger at Club Paris. It was the exact opposite of the disappointing experience I’ve lamented for years. Put another way: Club Paris served me a perfect burger.
We ordered the Paris Special, an 8 oz. ground tenderloin with cheddar on a French roll, served with au jus; and the Bistro Burger special made with that ground filet, topped with havarti, delightfully sautéed onions, bacon, and a creamy garlic dijonnaise.
Each element was as it should be. The meat was succulent and cooked just as we ordered it. The bun was sturdy. The produce was fresh, the cheese flavorful, the au jus wasn’t too salty. I did that little tasty food shimmy in my seat as we ate.
Obviously, a restaurant doesn’t survive for almost 70 years serving subpar burgers or mediocre steaks. I imagined workers coming in to eat those same burgers, maybe at our very same table, on the afternoons that the news spread about the Exxon Valdez oil spill or when the first oil flowed through the pipeline.
Anyway, my mission with this week’s column is simple. The next time a deep burger craving hits, don’t leave it to chance. The opposite to the mediocre burger has been available all along, quietly served only during lunch at a dimly lit Alaska mainstay downtown.
Club Paris will prove that the burger of your imagination is real.
Jenny Weis writes for a variety of Alaska nonprofits and causes in between keeping up on Alaska's doughnut scene, sliding on snow, and gawking at cool plants and rocks along local trails.
