Straight Beef review: Capital Club 16

NOW IS THE WINTER OF OUR DISCONTENT

Lo for these many months have we taken arms against a sea of bad burger-smiths, having sampled more meh burgers than you could Shake a Speare at.

Too often in these months were we great eaters of bad beef, and I believe that it doth harmed our wit.

Rich and flavorful was the Capital Club 16 burger, a blend of brisket, chuck, and sirloin. Plus some kind of seasoning that we couldn’t ply from the server.

Leaf lettuce instead of shredded was an interesting choice, but the melted cheese, coating the entire patty, made up for any other topping complaints. I can’t find a Shakespeare quote about French-kissing an angel, so I can’t accurately describe the pimento cheese burger.

The patties were cooked evenly. If you pricked it, it did not bleed, but was soft and pink throughout.

For an extra $1.50, you could get slab bacon or upgrade your burger to “golden buck style,” with a fried egg on top. Give me an egg, nuncle, and I’ll give thee two crowns.

The only tragedy we could find was with the bun. But soft … is what we were given, instead of toasted. The bun also wasn’t evenly split, giving us too much dry bread on top and a thin bottom layer that fell apart before we were finished, leaving our civil hands unclean.

The burgers came with fries, which created a melancholy of mine own. They were excellent, but we were told that the Capital Club 16 fries were “the best in the state.” Oh young fry of treachery, it was bound to be a letdown from such a haughty perch.

The desserts were like the attentions of a maiden fair.

After more than a year of unquiet meals making ill digestions, along came Capital Club 16. O! My sweet beef, I must still be good angel to thee.

To burger or not to burger—that is the question:

Whether ‘tis nobler on the palate to suffer

The slings and arrows of outrageous burgers

By sending them to Capital Club 16?

Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day? Thou art more lovely and more temperate. Though—and I’m just being honest here—I’ll take Capital Club 16’s Club Burger over you AND the thing I just said about summer. I mean, c’mon, that burger was fantastic. So…we good? —Sonnet 18 (early draft). Score: 4.5 out of 5.0

Shawn Krest picked up his burgiatry on the streets, unlike the East Coast elite with their advanced burgiatry degrees. After graduating from the school of hard rolls, he moved south and still doesn’t understand the concept of barbecue. Shawn would never pay you Tuesday for a hamburger today, so don’t lend him money.