AN ACRES HOMES BBQ SPOT HAS BIRTHED A BURGER JOINT.
It seems like the most natural thing in the world that the family of the late Roy Burns, legendary Acres Homes barbecue pitmaster, would establish a burger stand next to their very fine barbecue joint. It’s a walk-up affair with an umbrellashaded dining deck that is at its best right now, with everything blooming and green in this bucolic neighborhood.
From the shady grove across the street, to the neighbor’s old-timey amaryllis patch, to the fruit-laden loquat tree on the grounds of the little white New Hope Missionary Baptist Church next door, you could be in small-town Texas. It’s hard to believe the sound and fury of Interstate 45 is a few minutes east.
Swaddled in their aluminum wrappers, the Burns Burger matches the old-school setting. Find a parking space in the big paved back lot (good luck with that, if you come at a popular barbecue hour!) and let’s check it out:
PRICE: $6.50 for the Burns Burger with American cheese; $1.75 for fresh-cut fries; $3.75 for a vanilla-bean shake, for a pretax total of 12 bucks.
ORDERING: Line up at the window, consult the wall menu, place your order and find a seat at one of the hexagonal picnic tables while you wait for your food to materialize at the window.
ARCHITECTURE: Salad stuff
on the bottom. On a bun that has been griddle toasted on both sides goes a swipe of mayonnaise, torn iceberg lettuce leaves, dill pickle slices, rough-cut raw onion, a couple of thin tomato slices and a halfinch beef patty. Next comes the cheese, plus swipes of both mustard and ketchup on the top bun.
QUALITY: The Burns Burger is very much in keeping with the hefty, well-done burgers that are traditional in Houston’s historic black neighborhoods at places like the late Adrian’s, the nearby Leonard’s, or the recently reviewed Chief Cajun Big Baby. But because this burger begins with local 44 Farms beef, it has a built-in advantage in flavor terms. Add zesty levels of saltand-pepper seasoning, and you may not care that the sear on the patty seems a little tentative, or that well-done is the default griddling mode.
As a sandwich, this burger has its own peculiar charms. I loved the mixedbag condiment bounce, right down to the snap of tart-salty pickle and the unusual-in-Houston hint of ketchup against the ballpark mustard. And the fact that the onions were chopped big enough to produce a satisfying crunch pleased me enormously.
OOZE RATING: Strictly condiment-based, although the interior of the patty was not dry. LETTER GRADE: B plus.
VALUE: Good.
BONUS POINTS: Oh my gosh, the fries. So many fries, and so reasonable at $1.75! Fresh-cut and skinson, they have that combination exterior crispness and interior slick/softness that I associate with the Dad-made fries of my childhood, right down to the variations in texture I prize to this day. (Give me a wee bit of flop here and there, and I’m blissful.)
Mention also must be made of the delicious and immaculate vanilla-bean shake, one of the best ones I have had in Houston. It should not be missed.
LOCAL COLOR: In the temperate spring evenings, it’s very much a low-key neighborhood scene out on the deck. Huge shop fans churn the air. A sheriff’s deputy, his smartphone plugged into a handy outlet,
listens intently to his earbuds. Teenagers and young couples and Uber drivers wait for their orders to come up. The loquat tree at the southern edge of the porch groans with golden fruit, and a barbecue employee in a red Burns T-shirt strolls over to grab a few for a snack.
On the way back to your car, pause for a moment to take in the new wall mural honoring the history of Burns Original BBQ, which dates from 1973.
There’s a visual nod to the major league baseball career of Carl Crawford, who with his brother, Cory, revived the business in 2012 after founder Roy Burns’ death; an inscribed roll of all the various Burns family members who have contributed to the business (and there are a lot of them); and a cameo of Anthony Bourdain, who featured the restaurant in his Houston episode of CNN’s “Parts Unknown.”
But the real hero is Roy Burns, who smiles front and center under a ball cap. He’s the man who got me to appreciate the glories of a chopped beef sandwich and served me many a mighty, barky rib. I bow down.