There’s a temptation to think of a restaurant stripped of all pretension as an original.
But 7th Street Burger, which just opened on Chapel Street, is a copy of a copy of a copy. Not just because it’s one of many locations in a new regional chain, though it is. But because it has almost eerily gone to school on what came before it.
You might see In-N-Out in the red and white menu, Five Guys in the Cajun fries, White Castle in the undersized patties, Shake Shack in the smashed beef. Go back far enough and you get to New Haven’s own Louis’ Lunch, where the hamburger sandwich has been stubbornly resisting embellishment for more than a century.
It’s an homage to an homage so many times we lost count. It might be McDowell’s in Coming to America.
There is, of course, a successful burger-joint formula and it belongs to no one: Make good hamburgers and french fries and you will sell lots of them.
As burger chains get bigger, they tend to do more. They add breakfast, a chicken sandwich, salads, specials, sauces, combos. Every new thing means another ingredient, another piece of equipment, another way to gum up the works.
Do less, say the hamburger business gods.
Very few listen.
The team behind 7th Street Burger has opened more than 20 locations in the last 5 years. Judging by the crowds this week, the formula still works (an employee behind the counter told me they had sold out of french fries over the weekend).
The menu is almost comically spare. There are burgers and fries—no shakes. Soda comes in a glass bottle for a dollar more.
The brand color is Coca-Cola red. It matches the soda, the fire alarm and the fire extinguisher. The subway tile is white, as are the floors and tables. Other surfaces are stainless steel. You know when they’re dirty and need to be cleaned.
By default, the burgers come with everything they've got—American cheese, grilled onions, house sauce and pickles. Here, you delete things instead of adding them. There is no lettuce or tomato. You can get a single or a double patty—beef or Impossible. The fries are regular or Cajun.
Ketchup packets are scattered around the room. I spied no mustard.
There are plenty of napkin dispensers and you will need them.
During my lunchtime visit, men in blue blazers risked messing up their ties next to students on laptops, construction workers and Yale security staff. The line moved quickly. The orders came out somewhat less quickly.
My burger, ordered without cheese, came with cheese. They replaced it right away.
In retrospect, the mistake was mine. The right way to eat at 7th Street Burger is to order what’s on the menu. Burger King may have told you to have it your way. Here, have it their way.
The burger is smashed thin and crisp at the edges. The patty is greasy. The bun is greasy. The fries leave oil spots on the plain white bag and container. The burger comes wrapped in red checked paper and the grease works its way through that too.
This is as intended. This, after all, is what you’re here for.
The burger is very good. The fries are very good too—go for the cajun.
And it's almost beside the point.
You’re here to remember a film-studio copy of a time you may never have known—a time when life was simpler, food didn’t make you fat or guilty, and you played wiffle ball with friends until the fireflies came out and your mom called you home.
A lot of us are going to love it.
