South Florida Sun-Sentinel (Sunday)
SHOW US YOUR BUNS
Atwhite-hot hamburger chain Culver’s in Margate, lunchtime drive-thru lines pack the parking lot like the second coming of Popeye’s sandwich fever. The Wisconsin joint debuted its first Broward location in August but already Culver’s has achieved cultlike status among fans. Although Culver’s does poutine and Rueben melt sandwiches, its juicy Butter Burgers and creamy frozen custard Concrete Mixers are undoubtedly the stars. Last year, the Restaurant Business Association dubbed it “America’s No. 1 burger chain.”
You can call me a Culver’s convert, too, and a hamburger hound who appreciates the blend and beefy flavor of a good patty. I’ve eaten delicious Cuban-style burgers in Pompano Beach and devoured sandwiches built with doughnuts and peanut butter. On camera, I once tried a hamburger the size of a steering wheel. I drank so much Pep to I’ll bet my stomach glowed pink under black-light.
Which had me wondering: In a comfort-food showdown, how does Culver’s stack up against fast-food empires like McDonald’s and Wendy’s?
In the name of burger supremacy, I decided to find out. I ordered drive-thru each time to observe COVID-19 safety. Each meal had to be consumed within fiveminutes of ordering for peak freshness— which meant I pulled over and ate in the parking lot. And in fairness to Wendy’s limited Frosty options, we only tried plain vanilla.
The verdict? One burger chain won a decisive victory, two ice creams ranked neck-andneck, and all the fries turned into cardboard. Before we reveal the rankings, I’d encourage readers to conduct similar research over multiple trips. For science, of course.
McDonald’s
Burger: What does the soul of a rapper taste like? That’s what McDonald’s tried to answer with its breakout Travis Scott meal, supposedly the Grammy winner’s go-to order during pit stops to the Golden Arches. So popular was McDonald’s
celebrity-endorsed meal that they reportedly ran out of ingredients. But the harsh reality is that the Travis Scott meal (I paid $9.19 after tax) is just a Quarter Pounder with cheese, bacon and lettuce, medium fries and a Sprite. When I ordered the
Travis Scott meal by name, the cashier said they didn’t serve it anymore, which is technically true: the promotion ended in September. So I ordered a Quarter Pounder and Sprite instead. First I overturned the bun, whichwas topped with awet slurry of ketchup, mayonnaise, slivered onions and un askedfor pickles, half-melted American cheese and bacon crumbles instead of strips. The Travis Scott meal tasted like McDonald’s smells: onions and grease. Not even watereddown Sprite could salvage this mess.
Fries: The French fries began with a pleasing crispy-salty crunch but hardened within two minutes. After drowning them in tangy barbecue sauce the flavor improved. Thanks for the condiment tip, Travis.
Ice cream: Cold, creamy and surprisingly decadent, McDonald’s vanilla McFlurry soft-serve (I paid $2.89) easily rivaled the thick richness of Culver’s frozen custard. It’s unhealthier, of course, and packed with corn syrup and cellulose gum, but each bite had heft and they’re a much-cheaper option than Culver’s in a pinch. Until you hear that one dreaded sentence that shakes every fast-food connoisseur to their bones: “Sorry, the McFlurry machine is down.”
Verdict: Avoid the Travis Scott meal unless you crave quarter-pounders, but the McFlurry’s surprisingly creamy base is a pleasing alternative to the more expensive treats at Culver’s.
Wendy’s
Burger: The house that Dave Thomas built added a hefty handheld to its October lineup: the Pretzel Bacon Pub Cheeseburger, billed as having a quarter-pound of beef topped with Muenster cheese, three applewood-smoked bacon strips, smoky honey mustard, warm beer cheese sauce, crispy fried onions and pickles between a pretzel bun. I had high hopes for this premium burger ($9 with a combo). I ordered no pickles but pickles came anyway, so the first order of business was peeling them off. The first bite crunched into the burger’s onion rings and thick pretzel bun, which was a cut above Wendy’s usual signature, stale-tothe-touch buns. But the beer cheese had an off-putting acidic flavor that overwhelmed the flavorless bacon, and quickly made me wish I’d traded it for a bowlful of Big Bear Brewing Company’s beer cheese soup. The second time, out of curiosity, I ordered it without beer cheese and the burger was juicier and the acidity, thankfully, was gone.
Fries: Withi n minutes, Wendy’s natural-cut fries — fried in vegetable oil and dusted in sea salt— had become inedible sticks. Crispy outside, they tasted curiously dry, without the moist, fluffy interior one craves in a fry of this thickness. If you must do spuds at Wendy’s, their baked potatoes are miles better.
Ice cream: Wendy’s Frosty does two flavors— vanilla and chocolate— so I picked vanilla. Thicker than soft-serve, Frosties have a weird crystalline texture, like shave ice. Yet each mouthful, a creamy hit of artificial vanilla and corn syrup, mademe pine for the decadent richness of Culver’s vanilla.
Verdict: I’d hoped Wendy’s pretzel bun and beer cheese might make it a dark-horse contender for top patty but its beer cheese added a strange flavor to each bite.
Culver’s
Burger: Culver’s ButterBurger is a smashed beefblend patty so named for its fresh, lightly buttered Kaiser roll. Franchisee Eric Pierce, who opened Broward’s first Culver’s in August (two other locations are open in Lake Park and Jupiter), sources his custom buns from Miami’s Flours Bakery. The burgers arrive fromthe distributor fresh, not frozen, Pierce says. I first ordered the Culver’s Bacon Deluxe
— a double patty— without condiments, which imparted a greasy crunch. The underside of the bun showed sear marks from the grill and the bacon tasted hearty and flavorful, although the thin strips were minutes from turning limp. The second time, with ketchup, the Bacon Deluxe had limper bacon, but still flavorful.
Fries: Both times I ordered, Culver’s crinkle-cut fries started salty, crispy and golden-brown but turned slightly mushy within minutes.
Ice cream: The drivethru experience is as well-organized as a Chikfil-A. Customers in line must attach a numbered sticky note to their windshield and pull into an assigned waiting area until a server runs out their bagged meal. On two occasions, I rode withmy pitbull mix, Ladybug, in the back seat, and both times the cashier offered us a “Pup Cup”— a condiment cup-size scoop of vanilla custard. When she finished slurping it up, Ladybug sported a healthy milk mustache. So did I. Culver’s plain vanilla was close to perfect. Each spoonful was a rock star— luscious, creamy and silky as it melts — with a rich butterfat content that lacked the cloying artificial sweetness of McDonald’s or Wendy’s.
Verdict: The most expensive of the three, my Culver’s total came to $18.79 after tax. Both hamburgers had their problems, such as a slightly dry bun and semi-limp bacon. But its fresh beef blend elevated Culver’s above the rest, and the creaminess of their custard helped me forget how quickly it melted.