May. 03, 2006 - Issue #550: Why We Fight
The Baron von Burgher leads an attack on our appetites
I glanced up just in time to see the golden arches slide past on our right and was planning my next turn when another option presented itself. Reacting faster than thought, I pulled into the parking lot of a Burger Baron.
The history of Burger Baron is fascinating. A Belgian mercenary crossed the Channel with his troops to support the Yorkists during the War of the Roses. Klaus von Burgher soon fell in love with Britain and eventually spared the life of Margaret of Anjou, wife of Henry VI. In an act of clemency, the king awarded von Burgher a baronetcy and coat of arms.
Baron von Burgher was renowned for his skills in castle defense, especially with preparing the vats of boiling oil that crisped attackers nicely. The Baron’s heirs preserved the secrets of his boiling oil and began offering a variety of snacks dipped in the oil as war memorabilia—it was only a matter of time before people started devouring the tasty treats. A stylized image of the Baron von Burgher was used on their signs, and when the Baron’s descendants began fortifying outposts in Edmonton, they shortened the name to Burger Baron.
These days, Burger Barons are hermit crabs: they seize abandoned locations of other franchises and set up their bubbling cauldrons of oil. (Either that or there is a thesis project for students of convergent evolution in fast food architecture.) They have expanded from exclusively deep-fried fare to “Great Burgers,” sandwiches, donairs with Halifax’s sweet sauce and a wide assortment of milkshakes. We glanced over the menu posted above the ordering window, a little dazzled by the variety. Instead of building a burger for each customer, the Baron offers theirs with any number of permutations and combinations of intriguing toppings in single, double or belly-busting triple patties. The Oilers burger boasted cheese, lettuce, tomatoes, onions and pickles with 1000 Island special sauce. I wasn’t sure how that related to the team. Perhaps it became really popular right before playoffs, then poor management makes sure it comes off the menu before the second round is over.
I was tempted by a Salisbury burger with seasoned onions and mushroom sauce before I spotted Combo #4 ($5.79): a single swiss mushroom bacon burger with fries and a pop. My wife picked the single gourmet burger ($3.95) with ham, cheese, lettuce, tomato and special sauce to accompany her chocolate milkshake ($2.45). I threw in a side of deep fried mushrooms ($2.95) and we took our seats in the reclaimed KFC lobby.
A mere 20 seats accommodated the Baron’s sparse sit-down crowd, but the drive-thru line set off a series of “dings” inside the enormous kitchen area. Cars occasionally backed up on to 111 Avenue as they joined the drive-thru line during busy lunch rushes.
Our number was called quickly, and I carried our bounty back to the table. We quickly tore into the thin paper bags and started devouring, undeterred by the heat of fresh deep frying. The fries were crisp and steaming. Seasoning salt gave them a delicious tang over and above the mandatory ketchup.
I immediately made the rookie mistake of pulling my burger from its folded paper bag. One bite into the firm, meaty patty loaded with scrumptious mushroom sauce sent molten rivers coursing down my hands. My meal became barbaric and visceral as I smacked my lips: melted swiss cheese and crunchy bacon enhanced each greasy bite of heaven. The soft, white sesame seed bun was the perfect platform for the burger, and I washed it down with a swig of root beer.
My wife’s burger was that ideal product of a backyard barbecue, stacked with fresh lettuce and tomatoes. That slice of ham was a bonus, and she quickly grabbed her burger back before I could sample another bite. The real challenge was negotiating a taste of her rich chocolate milkshake: the dense shake delivered an instant (and cherished) ice cream headache.
Our real discovery was my spontaneous add-on, however. At first far too hot to eat, the deep-fried mushrooms had cooled enough by the end of our burgers to sample them without medieval war wounds. Once I had one, I couldn’t stop. Despite exceeding our oily capacity, we polished off the bag.
Each plump, juicy button mushroom featured a crisp shell of batter for a taste that blew away any onion ring I’d ever tried. We ignored the packets of ketchup in favour of simply shoveling them into our mouths. The batter held a few drips of oil in each bite, which painted our fingers with slickness and spotted the paper bag long before we were finished.
I popped a loonie on the counter for a quick root beer refill before we left, and my sated family made its way back to the car after washing our hands. For less than $17, I had completely satisfied the cravings of a pregnant woman without enriching the coffers of the evil McClown. No devoted husband could do more. V
Every day to midnight
Burger Baron
15250 - 111 Avenue
453.6897
?Not many people know the heraldic significance of Baron von Burgher’s coat of arms granted by Henry VI in 1470. White crosses on a field of blue in the second and third quadrants meant good omens, with the colours of sincerity on a background of truth. The first and fourth quadrants were originally left white, not only to represent the hoped-for peace after the War of the Roses but also to permit room for future honours. The Baron emblazoned each quadrant with his initials in an understandable if somewhat gauche display of pride.
The Baron’s coat of arms struck fear in the hearts of attackers, who knew they would be facing his enormous pots of boiling oil. His friends, however, would be assured of a tasty meal. V
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