I see you. I see you over there with your ciabatta burger bun. Your pretzel bun. Your artisanal seeded slow-rise sourdough bun. And don’t even get me started on baguettes. Or English muffins. It’s a muffin! It shouldn’t be holding a hamburger, it should be spread with jam.
What’s so terrible about good old fashioned white bread hamburger buns? I will tell you what: nothing. They are perfect. With their preternatural bronze exterior, styrofoam white interior, and occasional sesame seed, the classic American bun is a marvel. These yeasty sweet delicacies are literally engineered for greatness.
For example: they are the perfect size. The difference between a good hamburger and a great hamburger often comes down to the ratio of bun to burger, and if you’re using some sort of softball-sized homemade atrocity, you’re going to need one giant hunk of a hamburger to achieve the ideal. For me, the best hamburgers are diminutive in size and over-the-top in flavor. I’d rather have four bites of something so rich I don’t miss the fifth, than a giant burger that tastes like nothing.
Texture is also important. The bun is, more than anything, a foil for your burger; your teeth should barely register its existence on their way to appreciating the density of the patty. Why, then, do some insist on buns that are obstacles not just for your teeth but for your jaw as well? Do they truly have so little respect for ground beef? Give me buns like tissues, like pillows, like clouds: give me a light, airy, golden dome that’s full of beefy promises.
There is one other acceptable option, and that is the Martin’s potato roll—it’s wonderfully squishy and also the chosen vessel for Shake Shack, which few people can argue with. Martin’s fans are steadfast, and I do not want to cross them. Poppy seeds on burger buns are also acceptable. And if you want to add some extra special flair, go ahead and brush your buns with melted butter and warm them on the cooler side of the grill for a few minutes, until they gleam like little golden beef carriages. But other, fancier variations I will not allow. Your hamburger has done nothing to deserve such humiliation.
So this weekend, while you’re standing in the bread aisle at your local Supermarket contemplating the grilling season ahead of you, I want you to think long and hard about the buns you pull from the shelf. Those pretzel rolls and fancy artisanal whatevers may look flashy, but they are mere dalliances.
Stay true to the classic. Small white bread buns toasted in butter and thin, juicy beef patties draped in American cheese are soulmates. And who, honestly, are you to stand in the way of destiny?