Addict Recommends: (Restaurant) Burger Barn, Dunsmuir, California

There is no food that is more representative of American national culinary culture than the hamburger. Grilled, broiled, pan fried or steamed, with cheese or without, topped with pickles, onions, tomatoes and lettuce or nothing at all, thick and juicy or thin, pre packaged and well done, with ketchup, mustard, relish or mayonnaise: in all its thousand incarnations and variations, the hamburger is, quite simply, the food icon of our civilization.

I would never lightly recommend a burger joint. I’ve been steered toward mediocrity far too many times by well meaning individuals that had a burger one night when they were drunk and starving and mistook the rush of satiation for inherent quality. Also, I have probably eaten more hamburgers than any other person I know, and I think they’re all good. From greasy fast food establishments such as McDonalds, Jack in the Box and In ‘N Out to fancy Kobe sliders topped with foie gras and everything in between, I’ve tried them all. To say I’ve eaten a thousand hamburgers in my life would be to grossly underestimate my consumption. Therefore, I take into consideration my love of and need for these tasty, hand-held miracles of gastronomic delight before I ever think to recommend a certain burger to another person. The simple fact is they may not enjoy it in the same way I do.

But over the weekend, I encountered a place so special I had to proclaim its greatness publicly. On Saturday, still a little hung over and tired out from a long day’s hiking and fishing, some friends and I enjoyed the bounty of the Burger Barn, in “downtown” Dunsmuir, California. (On Interstate 5 approximately 49 miles north of Redding.)

The Burger Barn is one of those places that used to exist everywhere in America: the small town burger spot. Generally, these restaurants were one to a town and were run by a well liked local family who made their living feeding their neighbors after sporting events, on holidays, weekends and casual but special family occasions. As time marched on and fast food giants replaced Mom and Pop establishments, the Burger Barns of the world began to drop off one by one. Thank god this one is still here.

I spoke to the owner – a nice woman whose name I unfortunately cannot recall – while her husband was giving my mates some advice on the best spots in town to fish. She told me that she purchased the Barn from the previous owner, a man who had run it for thirty-five years. He taught her everything he knew. “And other than adding a few items, we haven’t really changed anything at all,” she informed me. This is the secret. They are making hamburgers at the Burger Barn in exactly the same way they were made in the late 1960’s.

My friends and I all had the same item: the double cheeseburger. Mine was topped with Swiss and also bacon, as well as the obligatory special sauce, which looked like thousand island dressing. The preparation and attention to detail were the cornerstones. Each patty had its own slice of cheese, which was fully melted and completely covered the juicy meat. Also, each layer had its own two bacon slices, which were crisscrossed on top of each patty. I hate when you get a bacon burger and the slices protrudes two inches from beyond the bun – you are forced to take a bite of only the bacon just to even the sides out. This is not a problem at the Burger Barn, where the bacon is thick but fits entirely within the bun. With every bite, there was some bacon involved. Delicious. Also, our group split a large fries and onion rings, which were more than enough for five of us. They were crispy and well cooked but left almost no grease at the bottom of the basket. How they accomplish this is a secret I don’t need to know.

I was very thirsty, so was drinking a coke. Two of my friends, however, got milkshakes. They nodded assent to one another while consuming them and one said, “Damn, this thing is thick.” A good sign. At the end of my meal, I was craving something sweet, so I got a soft serve swirl cone. It was made of real dairy and not the imitation crap they are serving all over nowadays. The perfect end to the perfect meal.

Bottom line: from now on, any time when I’m traveling north or south on I-5 I’m stopping in Dunsmuir at the Burger Barn. You should really do the same.