|
|
Abbey Burger Bistro
REWORKING “THE WORKS”: THE ABBEY BURGER BISTRO
In an age when you can order a pair of Nikes based upon your favorite team’s colors and mascot, or a bag of personalized M&Ms with your dog’s photo printed on each candy shell, it begs to reason why one shouldn’t be able to customize just about anything the heart desires. Now, thanks to The Abbey Burger Bistro, the category of “gourmet burger” falls within the category of items you can get your way, right away.
When I ducked in The Abbey on a miserably rainy weekday night, I figured the weather would ensure a near-empty dining space. Surprisingly, all of the tables in the downstairs bar area were full, and even half of those upstairs, where we eventually sat, were occupied as well. The crowd spoke well to the lure of this establishment within its well-traversed Federal Hill locale, and as I settled at the bar-height table and stool – glancing around at the dark-paneled wood and historic black-and-white Baltimore photographs – my anticipation grew.
We started with a round of beers on special for the evening: a Duvel Green for me, one of the Belgian brewery’s newest offerings that is available in only a handful of area bars, and an Ommegang Hennepin for my husband. At $4 and $2 for draught pulls, respectively, they were a great deal that we couldn’t pass up, despite the lengthy menu of noteworthy draught and bottled brews. Our choices did not disappoint, either, as I very much enjoyed the slightly lighter flavor of the single-fermented Duvel Green, as opposed to the twice-fermented flavor of the original.
Now it was time to get down to business: the burger-ordering business, to be exact. The decision to select one of the dozen, no-substitution sandwich combinations designed by the chef, or to fathom my own creation using the pre-printed “build-a-burger checklist,” was difficult. The set menu offerings were sometimes odd yet often compelling, suggesting such pairings as the Abbey Burger, a beef patty with bacon, a sunnyside egg, and Lincolnshire cheddar on an English muffin; the Fried Green Tomato Burger, with two slices of fried tomatoes topped with marinara sauce and melted provolone; or the Baltimore Burger, which resembled the Abbey Burger but exchanged crab dip for the fried egg. I opted to build my own, which only led to countless other decisions . . . Black Angus beef from nearby Roseda Farms, or wild boar? Lamb or portobello mushroom? Fowl in the form of chicken, ostrich, or turkey? I went with bison, sourced from local, all-natural purveyor Gunpowder Bison & Trading Company, and then made my way down the long list of options . . . out of the 6 types of breads, 9 cheeses, 13 extra-fee and 18 “free stuff” toppings, I emerged with gran queso (described as a “Wisconsin manchego”), white truffle oil, sprouts, Bibb lettuce, tomato, pickle slices, cucumbers, ketchup and whole grain mustard on a pretzel roll.
As we waited for the meal, I continued studying the checklist, second-guessing my selections – maybe I should have gone for chili pepper mayo instead, or spicy crème fraiche, or Point Reyes blue cheese? But when the burger arrived, my doubts went out the window: the bison was cooked to a perfect medium rare, with a nice pink interior, flowing juices and delicious flavor, and the amalgam of accoutrements blended together harmoniously. I particularly enjoyed the pretzel roll, which held up well against all the “stuff,” and you can never go wrong by adding truffle oil to anything. My dining companion – who had ordered the Peanut Butter Burger off the menu, a dubious-sounding concoction of beef, bacon, and peanut butter on a bun – rolled his eyes in pleasure, begging me to take a taste. I did, naturally, and was shocked by how well the flavors paired! The peanut butter, which had turned gooey and warm, almost took the place of melted cheese, but also offered that satisfyingly salty-and-sweet taste bud profile. The accompanying homemade chips provided a crunchy break from the hefty handhelds, and my husband’s sweet potato fries, while a touch too salty, were thick-cut and not at all greasy.
In case our evening wasn’t decadent enough, we couldn’t leave The Abbey without sampling one of their spiked milkshakes. We chose an obvious favorite, the Berger shake. A nod to local flavors, which The Abbey seems pleased to showcase, it blends vanilla ice cream with Stoli vanilla vodka, Godiva liqueur, and crushed pieces of that famous fudge-topped cookie. Needless to say, the liquid dessert/cocktail was divine, impressive in its drinkable consistency (not too thick to slurp) and the ergonomics of its design (the cookie bits were able to get up the straw!).
So if you’re looking for a place to take the standard burger-and-shake combo up a notch, head to Federal Hill and seek out a table in the dark, polished interior of The Abbey Burger Bistro. You could stick with the old reliable model, if you don’t care for adventure, but you’d be missing out on the best burger creation possible, the one that doesn’t even exist yet, that you originate yourself from the depth of your own creative impulse. Because if you can order something custom-tailored to your every whim, why not indulge your taste for power (and peanut butter) for at least one meal?
|
|
|
|
|
|
|