The Lafayette branch of Smashburger, a growing chain, is the latest in a series of burger joints that emulates the famed In-And-Out Burger. Providing higher quality sandwiches than its competition for only a few dollars more, Smashburger follows In-And-Out’s lead by serving cooked-toorder burgers made from fresh, never frozen meat. It also distinguishes itself by having servers bring out your food after you order at the counter.
On a recent weeknight visit with
friend Kuvy and her young son Adrian,
we also quickly discovered that this eatery
doesn’t scrimp on the portions, be it a
burger, hot dog or salad. Approaching our
table after ordering, Kuvy pointed out a
$6.99 wedge salad, which featured a hunk,
if not nearly a whole head, of iceberg
large enough to pull small moons out of
We started with a round of $3.99 root
beer floats. A spritzing of aerosol whipped
cream on top was a distracting flourish.
Despite this unnecessary misstep,
Smashburger’s melding of Haagen-Dazs
vanilla and top-shelf IBC root beer was
simply sublime. Had Aristotle written a treatise on root
beer floats, he would have simply said to throw these
two ingredients together and call it good.
A family-friendly spirit is evidenced by the $3.99
kids menu that includes burger, hot dog and chicken
strip selections accompanied by a drink and fries.
Adrian’s grilled cheese was a comforting classic, with
lightly toasted white bread sandwiching endearingly
gooey American cheese. The plain fries were average,
but that’s OK, since a kids’ menu generally needs to
appeal to simple, and occasionally fussy, palates.
Considerably more sophistication informed Kuvy’s choices, including a $2.99 portion of veggie frites. A fry alternative, these were crisp-tender strips of flash-fried carrots, green beans and verdant asparagus stalks. Her $5.99 Smashchicken sandwich — apparently it costs extra to tap the space bar after typing “Smash” — was a fine buy for the money, featuring moist and flavorful chicken breast. Pounded thin, this tender cut happily lacked the blandly uniform appearance of the Stepford poultry common to this price point — it looked home-cooked. Fresh onion and lettuce toppings contributed crispness, and a dollop of mayo rounded out the flavor.
My side of $1.99 Haystack Onions
was cause for celebration. I usually find
fried onions too heavily breaded, or
worse yet, comprised of chopped and
formed vegetables. These were thinly
sliced ringlets of onion with a lacy texture
underscored by a sweetly caramelized
flavor. My only advice is to enjoy
these as soon as they arrive hot at your
table; they won’t retain their delicate
crispness for too long.
My main event was the $6.99 half pound Spicy Baja burger. The toppings were the stars of the show, a mix of assertive fresh jalapeño slices, pepper jack cheese, guacamole and chipotle mayonnaise.
Unfortunately, it was harder to get on board with the smashed Angus burger, flattened into a thin patty on the grill. A flat burger means a well-done one, which equates to compromised flavor, in my book. In its defense, the meat had adequate marbling to stay reasonably moist, but I still like the beefy flavor of a thicker patty.
But that’s not to deny that Smashburger still serves up tasty food for the money, and much here is a cut above similarly priced eateries. Respond: email@example.com
Clay’s Obscurity Corner: What's the fuss about Angus?
From fast food joints to the priciest steakhouses, restaurants
tout the fact they use Angus beef. But what does this really
mean? It certainly isn’t a guarantee of rarity, as Angus is one of
the most common breeds of beef cattle in the United States.
Nor is it necessarily a guarantee of quality, although the
American Angus Association has a “certified” seal of approval
for beef that meets 10 specifications, including marbling, ribeye
area and lack of capillary rupture (Yum!). However, regardless
of certification, Angus tends to be fattier and more flavorful, as
well as more tender than other breeds.