Best Burgers
Fuddruckers
6118 E. Speedway
READERS' PICK: Sure, we loved to think of ourselves as
vegetarians, lovers of cows, proud preachers of the joys of soy,
and all that. But we had to face it: We're full of bull. We vowed
to steer clear of beef, and yet there we found ourselves, at Fuddruckers,
bellies full of burgers, again. What is it about this place
that keeps reconverting tofu disciples like some money-spewing
long-distance company that refuses to let you go? As far as we
can tell, there aren't any addictive additives in the thick, high-quality
patties; and the steaming hot French fries don't exert any known
form of mind control. And we're certain we had free will as we
surveyed the heaping selection of condiments. We felt like contestants
choosing prizes on Wheel of Fortune: "Um, Pat, I'll
take the sautéed onions, the jumbo mushroom slices, and
a meat-smothering portion of Vanna...." It's true, nobody
forced us to eat there; and between sweet, barbecue-flavored belches
we giggled in delight--not at our own guilty pleasure, and not
even at the spooneristic qualities of the name "Fuddruckers."
No, we giggled because we'd spent only a few bucks more than if
we'd gone to McDonald's, the place that compelled us toward vegetarianism
in the first place.
READERS' POLL RUNNER-UP: Little Anthony's Diner, 7010 E.
Broadway
A REAL SCREAM: The writer Edward Abbey often railed about
the environmental damage inflicted on the deserts of the Southwest
by livestock grazing. Just as often he stopped in at The Big
A, 2033 E. Speedway, for a big juicy burger--a patty on rye
with Swiss, say, or a brow-moistening chili-festooned hunk o'
beef, or a tsk-tsking bovine masterpiece draped with bacon and
sautéed mushrooms. The Big A does burgers just about every
way you can imagine, and with uncommon artistry. Have one in Ed's
honor.
A REAL SCREAM: There's no burger quite as monstrous as
the infamous Bob Burger at Bob Dobb's Bar and Grill, 2501
E. Sixth St. This half-pound juggernaut is loaded with a secret
combination of spices, including enough garlic to wipe out the
entire population of Transylvannia. Beware: After gulping down
one of these, you'll carry the mark of Bob for the rest of the
day, seeping through your pores.
