There’s nothing I love more than myself. And so when my birthday comes around I try and do something special for me. As some of you know, one of those things is buy myself a cheeseburger.

It all began in, let’s say, 1994 when I decided I did not need to eat beef in order to have a complete diet. I had eliminated pork from my diet at least five years earlier for somewhat religious/spiritual reasons. Why did I need to continue to eat cows? I didn’t, and I didn’t think it would really be that much of a sacrifice. The only things I thought I might miss were cheeseburgers and chicken fried steaks. So I made a vow not to eat beef except for once a year – my birthday. On that most auspicious of days, I would consume a cheeseburger for lunch and a chicken fried steak for dinner.

The first of these birthdays found me in the Houston metropolitan area. I decided I would have the Ultimate Cheeseburger at Jack in the Box. It truly lives up to its name. Or it did back in those days. Back then, it was beef, cheese, bread, and their signature onion mayo. Deliciously elegant in its composition, and totally fulfilling. And filling. I don’t remember the chicken fried steak. It is not difficult to find one in Texas that fulfills all my requirements of such a meal, so it doesn’t particularly stand out.

The following several years I was in New York City on my birthday, specifically Manhattan. There are no Jack in the Box’s to be found, but there are several really good burger joints that will not disappoint. And surprisingly, there is a very good place for chicken fried steak – the Acme Bar & Grill. All the years I was in New York on my birthday (including a year after I moved away) this is where I got my CFS. I love this place, and ate there at other times as well, enjoying the Cajun Chicken instead with mashed potatoes and collard greens. They call it N’awlins Chicken now, the Cajun-fried option.

In the first 8 years I lived in Seattle I’ve struggled each year (minus the one I was back in NYC) to find a cheeseburger and a chicken fried steak that meet my criteria. On the CFS side of things, I suppose it’s not all that surprising that I can’t find a good one in the Pacific Northwest outside of Claim Jumper. I even went to Claim Jumper one year – it was good but grotesquely large, and I spent a lot of time agonizing over wasting it versus eating it for more than just the one day. Then a couple years ago I gave up searching. I decided that instead of the CFS, I would have a real turkey dinner on Thanksgiving, something I was beginning to miss more each year since I stopped eating poultry shortly after arriving in Seattle.

That just left the cheeseburger. There are a lot of “legendary” burger joints in the Seattle area. I think I had my birthday cheeseburger at a different place every year. The possible exception could be Luna Park Cafe, which I used to love. (They changed management and while it is virtually the same, there is something just a wee bit different and I don’t like it.) None of the burgers was quite what I wanted and every year I was a little disappointed. So last year, after lamenting that nothing was quite the Ultimate Cheeseburger, my friends convinced me I should just go for it. So, for the second time since I started this tradition, I had an Ultimate Cheeseburger for my birthday, only to discover that those clown-faced jerks changed it. It was more or less the same, but they served it with ketchup and mustard instead of the onion mayo. So, instead of just being able to walk up to the counter and say, “I want an Ultimate Cheeseburger and spicy curly fries,” I had to special order. The burger was amazing, but I was still disappointed.

This year, I decided to do something different. As it does some years, my birthday fell on Martin Luther King Jr Day. While not a holiday at my company, I took the day off anyway so that I could eat my cheeseburger in solitude. I considered trying to find a place that only sells organic free range beef (does that even exist?). I nixed that idea when I figured a place like that would probably want to put sprouts and avocados on my patty. So, instead, I thought that a high-quality steak house should be serving high quality beef – at least something higher grade than McDonald’s. I hope. There were a few steakhouses that came to mind – really just three after I eliminated the national chains. The Brooklyn, Daniel’s Broiler, and the Metropolitan Grill. I checked their menus online and opted for the Met, as it had the simplest cheeseburger.

The “American Kobe Style Beef” Works Burger
American Wagyu sirloin, cheddar and swiss cheeses, caramelized onions, drive–in sauce, lettuce, tomato.

I only made a couple requests – herb mayo instead of “drive-in sauce”, and no tomato. The sauce is their own 1000-Island dressing, something of which I’ve never been a fan.

I ordered it medium, it came medium well, which is fine for a burger. There were a bit too many onions, but that was easy to remedy. The first bite was pretty much heavenly. After that, it was just really good. Some bites brought back memories of the mesquite barbecued brisket of my childhood. My meal was accompanied by Sinatra, Gershwin, and other standards, as well as a vodka collins.

It was followed by a dish of Burnt Cream which had the consistency of thick pudding or slightly warm butter. After the burger and a few fries, I could only manage a few spoonfuls of the cream, so I boxed it up for home.

After my lunch, I walked it off by the Lusty Lady where I snapped their latest marquees, and then up to Pacific Place where I watched Charlie Wilson’s War. Another piece of evidence that there are some good things – besides myself – that come out of Texas.

And now My Day draws to a close. The only thing I regret is not telling my waiter it was my birthday. I probably could have got a candle in my Burnt Cream at the very least. C’est la vie. Next year I plan to celebrate my birthday in Baltimore, near the grave of fellow January baby and literary hero Edgar Allan Poe. Not sure if there’s a Jack in the Box nearby, but perhaps someone will give me a recommendation between now and then.

Aside: Considering the county Seattle resides in is named after Martin Luther King, Jr., you’d think this holiday would be a much bigger deal. Unless you’re looking, it is difficult to find any kind of celebrations or observances anywhere around the city. Quite sad.