Five Burger Joints That Go Beyond Meat on a Bun

Burger Jones
Relentlessly maligned on blogs and early reviews, Jones has found its equilibrium at a higher level than many might have imagined. It’s a typical Parasole casual venture: lively bar, nice atmosphere, friendly service from attractive servers, a menu that isn’t afraid to crack a culinary joke or six, and a bent toward inconsistency. But its menu is built around one food, pure and simple, and it is in the burger realm where the restaurant finally seems to be hitting its stride.

After an impressive critic’s tasting before Jones opened in May, what reached my table in the first weeks was a pale impostor: overcooked, no char, weak beefy flavor, and oddly uniform patty size evoking fast food. My most recent visit convinced me that nearly all of these issues had been rectified—and that Burger Jones’ burgers are occasionally good enough to be craveable.

Still, this is a hard restaurant to make part of a regular repertoire: Too many of the apps are (tasty) gut-bombs, simple things like melting cheese tax the kitchen, dessert is an afterthought, and too many of the burgers seem designed for a laugh or shock value rather than taste and balance. Battering and frying bacon is insipid, not funny. But Parasole is an organization that listens to its gut, not critics, so I wouldn’t be surprised to see Burger Jones settle in at about where it is now, a solid “B.” 3200 W. Lake St., Mpls., 612-746-0800, burgerjones.com

Eat: Tasty poutine, decent cheese curds, any burger with mushrooms (marinated in beef stock), salted caramel shake, sweet potato fries.
Skip: Dog burgers (thick-sliced bologna, not hot dog), waffle fries (always cold), any burger with more than three toppings.

Five Guys
This mid-Atlantic-based chain supposedly serves President Obama’s favorite burger. It’s an austere, cheap build-out fast-fooder with a following, but everything—from the boxes of free peanuts with signs warning you not to take them out of the store because people are allergic to them (guys, people are allergic inside as well) to the signs assuring that the burgers are cooked well done but juicy—is one big Orwellian disconnect. I found Five Guys inconsistent and never better than average, unless your reference point is Burger King. Mr. President, we gotta get you a real burger. 3873 Gallagher Dr., Edina, 952-893-5489, fiveguys.com

Eat: Tasty kosher-style hot dogs.
Skip: Dry burgers, uneven fries.

Galaxy Drive In
Wagner’s is gone. Let it go.

A month before opening, the resurrector of this site, themed-environment impresario Steve Schussler, had researched drive-in fare to a science. He said all the right things, he had all the right standards. A month into operation, little of that was evident on the table. Burgers were consistently overcooked, Broasted chicken was dry, Vienna hot dogs lacked the heft and snap and juicyness of the Chicago originals, and fries and cheese curds often arrived lukewarm. Service could be maddening.

The best aspect of Galaxy, to my surprise, is its ambience. It’s all kooky kitsch (bronzed praying hands squirting water, bronzed children playing), with a sentimentality that splits the uprights between wacky and weird. The place is clean and looks well-cared-for. It’s a pleasure to hang out here with kids on a nice evening. Schussler clearly has his heart in the right place, so I hope his line managers do as well, because there’s potential here. But the food needs more care, especially if folks are going to venture into this Galaxy in winter. 3712 Quebec Ave. S., St. Louis Park, 952-277-7777, galaxy-drivein.com

Eat: Shakes, onion rings, Broasted chicken (dark meat is moister), s’mores.
Skip: Noxious fountain iced tea, dry burgers, sad hot dogs.

Gold Nugget
The dingy Glen Lake hole-in-the-wall is back, but it’s been made over. It’s now big, modern, and squeaky clean, with flat-screens everywhere, savvy service, and a huge kitchen pumping out a big menu of casual classics. Many of the customers walk among the tables visiting with friends and neighbors; everyone seems to know one another here. The food is competent, but not much I ordered elicited a raised eyebrow. Smoked barbecue chicken did not hold a candle to Redstone’s, there are better burgers in town, and the signature Tater Tots with cheese (“gold nuggets”) need work. The big menu reminded me of an independent T.G.I. Friday’s. Gold Nugget doesn’t seem like the kind of place you travel across town for, but it’s a nice asset for the neighborhood. And it takes reservations, a rare attribute in this niche. 14401 Excelsior Blvd., Minnetonka, 952-935-3600, goldnuggettavernandgrille.com

Eat: Black and blue burger, BLT, pulled-pork quesadilla.
Skip: Anything with the word “Kobe.”

Tavern on France
The patio’s jumping and, during my visits at least, the dining room was crowded, something you could not say for the upscale Via, which T on F replaced. The space is now all dark wood—it’s a little dour, in fact. The menu is built around a build-your-own approach to salads, burgers, and cracker-crust pizza. I don’t really understand why the public wants to “build its own” anything—something it can do at home—but diners in this restaurant-rich part of town seem to be loving the control it gives them. Of all these spots, Tavern is the only one that delivered a couple “wow” dishes, but it’s also the one that served the biggest downers. I can really only recommend it right now for its lively patio, as the rest of Tavern is marred by operational glitches, from friendly but indifferent and absent servers to a kitchen that burned hamburger buns, couldn’t make iced tea that wasn’t cloudy and sour, delivered the wrong items on pizzas, served grilled cheese with a refrigerator-cold slice of tomato in the middle, and couldn’t be bothered to chop the items in a “chopped salad.” 6740 France Ave. S., Edina, 952-358-6100, tavernonfrance.com

Eat: Meatloaf, cole slaw, berry pie.
Skip: Pizza.