Steak ‘n Shake: Guacamole Steakburger

Steak ‘n Shake was the first place my parents ever took me for cheeseburgers.  I was 5 or 6, living in Indianapolis.  I remember the brightly-lit diner-style restaurant.  I remember them being open late (which, for me, probably meant past 8pm), so we could all go out after Dad got off work.  I remember the collectible toy truck I got after one visit.  (If only I had known eBay was coming…)  And I remember watching them make my food.

Legend holds that when founder Gus Belt rolled in a barrel of steaks (sirloin, round, and T-bones) and then ground the meat in front of his customers in 1934, he gave birth to their slogan, “In Sight, It Must Be Right.”  To this day, there’s a neon sign in every one of their 500-ish locations in 21 states that proclaims, “Famous for Steakburgers.”

I don’t make it to Steak ‘n Shake much anymore.  But when Christmas break rolled around for my first-grader, I thought it was time to introduce her and re-acquaint myself.

We grabbed stools at the counter so she could keep an eye on the line cook.  She enjoyed watching him load up the griddle with hockey-puck discs of meat, 12 at once, then press them thin as they cook.  (Funny how some newfangled gourmet chains are just now latching onto the “smashing” technique.)

Sydney got a trio of miniature Steakburger Shooters, 2 with ketchup and mustard, one with A-1.  (They also offer Ketchup ‘n Onion, BBQ, Chipotle, Buffalo, and Frisco-style slyders.)

I, however, was faced with a dilemma.  On the rare occasion I’ve been to a Steak ‘n Shake in recent years, I’ve opted for one of their melts.  Go ahead, connoisseurs, roll your eyes.  According to many, the patty melt is NOT a true cheeseburger and has no place in a serious cheeseburger conversation.  But sliding a cooked beef patty and melted cheese between fried toast instead of a bun doesn’t bother me.  In fact, I’ve been pleasantly surprised by a few. But on this day, sitting at the bar, I spied one of those flip-card menu thingies with this staring back at me:

Interesting.  Guacamole is a recently-acquired taste for me, so I ordered one up.

Looks nice sitting on the plate, huh?  Red onion, lettuce, pepperjack cheese, and chipotle sauce, with oozy guac dripping down the edges, and a nice side of those cool matchstick fries.  A mini-crock of baked beans and a milkshake rounded things out.  But look again.  Imagine picking that baby up and diving in teeth-first.  Doesn’t that bun seem absurdly huge?

Sadly, it tasted that way, too.  Eight months of writing for this site has produced a few surprises.  One of them is this: I now believe that perhaps the most critically-important component of the cheeseburger is the bun.  (Or toast.  Or roll.  Hell, or donut.)  A so-so burger can be elevated by a kick-ass bun.  But the wrong bun can absolutely ruin a perfectly good burger.  And I felt like that’s what I had on my hands at Steak ‘n Shake: too much bun.

I love the nostalgia and retro-diner feel.  I love the in-sight kitchen and the insistence on calling them “steakburgers.”  I love that a lot of them are open 24/7.  I love the matchstick fries and the little crocks of baked beans and the tall milkshakes.  I love what my little girl said as we watched the line cook: “Wow, that would be the best job ever!  If you messed up, you could just eat the burger.”

Good point, kiddo.  But I’d put mine between a few slices of toast.