The perfect burger is a strange, elusive beast. Mythic almost.
Some have reported it to be gargantuan ("It was a full pound I tell ya!"). Others claim it's small and exotic ("We seen 'em. Itty-bitty things. Kobe sliders, they was.").
Now new reports are coming in. This could be it. Pack your gear—you're heading to Evanston. Introducing Edzo's Burger Shop, soft-open now and soon ready for some serious investigation.
A throwback to the 1970s, the decor salutes those mustard-yellow and ketchup-red greasy spoons that once littered Dempster Avenue like so many beer-can pull-tabs. You even stand beneath a vintage Coke sign at the counter as you contemplate the Vienna Beef franks, plump beer-braised Wisconsin brats, and thick, mixed-to-order milk shakes.
Then there are those burgers. A culinary school grad (who spent time on the line at Tru and Nacional 27) is behind the place, grinding the fresh chuck every morning. You can pick either a cooked-to-order flame-charred half-pounder or the flatter quarter-pounder pressed—smashed, really—into the griddle, thereby sealing in its juices.
And while you'll appreciate this time-tested approach, you're not afraid of a little innovation. For that we direct you to the menu of hand-cut French fries, which are conduits for such decadence as bacon, cheddar, Buffalo sauce and even truffle salt.
Now that's having it your way.
Some have reported it to be gargantuan ("It was a full pound I tell ya!"). Others claim it's small and exotic ("We seen 'em. Itty-bitty things. Kobe sliders, they was.").
Now new reports are coming in. This could be it. Pack your gear—you're heading to Evanston. Introducing Edzo's Burger Shop, soft-open now and soon ready for some serious investigation.
A throwback to the 1970s, the decor salutes those mustard-yellow and ketchup-red greasy spoons that once littered Dempster Avenue like so many beer-can pull-tabs. You even stand beneath a vintage Coke sign at the counter as you contemplate the Vienna Beef franks, plump beer-braised Wisconsin brats, and thick, mixed-to-order milk shakes.
Then there are those burgers. A culinary school grad (who spent time on the line at Tru and Nacional 27) is behind the place, grinding the fresh chuck every morning. You can pick either a cooked-to-order flame-charred half-pounder or the flatter quarter-pounder pressed—smashed, really—into the griddle, thereby sealing in its juices.
And while you'll appreciate this time-tested approach, you're not afraid of a little innovation. For that we direct you to the menu of hand-cut French fries, which are conduits for such decadence as bacon, cheddar, Buffalo sauce and even truffle salt.
Now that's having it your way.
