Best Burger, located at 3401 Pleasanton Road, generated a lot of anticipation among our burger enthusiasts. Fresh off the heels of our comeback review of FattBoy's, morale was high among our burger-devouring forces as we headed to the South Side location of this neighborhood staple. We prepared our minds to enter Best Burger, fully aware that if the burger lived up to the name of the establishment in which it is crafted, we may be about to experience the best burger this side of the Adriatic.
Burger - 6.0
Unfortunately, the burger did not live up to its name, but don't let the disappointment of our lofty expectations dissuade you too much. Best Burger produces a solid burger at a very reasonable price, and perhaps we were a bit overzealous in expecting the "Roman Emperor" of burgers going into this joint. The burger was considered by all to be above average and contained all the necessary components of a satisfactory burger: a well-cooked yet juicy, flavorful patty; fresh toppings; and a buttery toasted bun. While we all left satisfied, the burger's above average yet unspectacular components combined to create an end product that fell short of the upper echelon of San Antonio burgers. Burger Boy summed it up best when he commented, "If I were in the area I’d eat at Best Burger waaay before I’d eat at Griff’s or McD’s any day. But I wouldn’t drive across town just to eat this burger."
Sides - 4.5
The sides were less impressive. The fries were greasy, grainy, and overall quite mediocre. The onion rings were slightly better, but still bad enough to keep average sides score below a 5. There was really not much worth mentioning about the sides, so I'll let the pictures speak for themselves.
Fry Daddy: The fries had a grainy texture, and the onion rings weren’t much better.
Ambiance - 3.5
Our bloggers found the ambiance to be the worst part of the Best Burger experience. The building is a stand-alone structure and as we approached, we noted the potential for a down home-burger joint was all there: freshly painted red brick exterior; an old, weather-worn, character-filled sign proclaiming "Best Burger"; and lots of old-school looking tin that gave the place an authentic Texas appearance. As we pulled into the parking lot, our hopes sank a little. The place appeared to be lacking any sort of character other than a self-advertisement hanging from the roof and some odd, Easter-themed "shoe polish" art that graced the windows.
Once inside, it became clear to us that appearance and character were not major priorities for this establishment. Although an American flag was painted on the window, the cinder blocks and white paint in this joint brought to mind a more Soviet-esque picture of soulless utilitarianism. Other bloggers had the same reaction:
Where's the Beef: Reminded me of when I worked at a county prison for a summer job in high school.
Fry Daddy: To arrive at a rating for ambience, we must look deep into the very soul of a burger joint and try to somehow quantify what we see there. Best Burger, however, is housed in a soulless cinderblock building where a tireless burger machine spits out gigantic, greasy, by-the-book hamburgers. The only reason I don’t give Best Burger a lower rating here is my fear that that soulless machine will become sentient and try to destroy me.
Flying Dutchman: Much like Newt Gingrich, this burger joint completely lacked character.