Behold the monstrosity upon which I gorged myself last weekend:
This is the Triple Bypass Burger, found in its natural habitat at Dry Creek in the Heights. I had brunch there with my friend Jen on a chilly Saturday that meant I needed more sustenance than could be provided by a paltry omelette, but still required some kind of “breakfast” in my “brunch.” Thus, the bacon cheeseburger with a fried egg you see before you.
At the tender age of 28, I tend not to worry all that much about such piddling adult issues as arteriosclerosis, high blood pressure and LDL levels, but perhaps after this meal I really ought to start. Unfortunately, for as good as the fried egg, cheese, bacon and all the fixings were (including the perfectly spiced chipotle mayonnaise), I had exactly the same problem with the patty and the bun that Robb Walsh had only a year ago.
The waitstaff at Dry Creek will inevitably ask you how you want your burger cooked and — just as inevitably — it will always come out well done. It’s like some sick joke they enjoy playing on people. And the bun was as crumbly as ever. Not one to despair long over crumbly buns, I simply washed it down with some of the divine Shiner Black that Jen had cleverly brought (since Dry Creek is BYOB, after all) and set about enjoying the onion rings, which are always spectacular.
Next time I’m baking some of these bad boys beforehand and packing them to go. Problem (mostly) solved. I can’t pack my own meat, after all. …or can I?