Romance with a Burger Joint - GMA News Online by Katrina Stuart Santiago

I have romances with restaurants, the kinds borne of very particular loves and how these always lay claim to spaces: this one’s ours because we love the food here, that one too because we had a really good conversation there, here because you said you loved me.

And then there are those that I discover for myself, by myself, the ones that I can call mine with a flourish. Burger Joint is farther than I’d usually go for comfort food, but it is reason enough to extend that map of the city that I have in my head. That is, go the stretch of Ortigas Avenue Extension which, traffic willing, quickly changes landscape from the urban development of Pasig to the provincial structures of Rizal.

Burger Joint is American diner Pinoy style.

Cainta, Rizal to be exact. It surprisingly isn’t as far as one thinks.

In fact, it’s a leisurely drive even when there’s a bit of traffic owing to roads that become narrower as these become more provincial, with tricycles on the main thoroughfare and plenty of motorcycles, too. Rublou Place is a bright new building on this stretch of road, one that’s filled with the idiosyncrasies and cognitive dissonances that can only happen in the provincial milieu.

A posh nail spa is near a store that specializes in massage done by the blind. A dry market of vegetables and fruit takes over the building’s main area, which might otherwise be used for bigger concerts and events. A wet market is tucked neatly behind the fruit and vegetable stalls, only there for those who look for it. A gift shop cum sweet shop seems out of place. Two bakeries stand side by side, though Kuya Jun’s Bakery is rocking my world. A bar is in one corner of the building’s second floor.

The basic Chicken Burger with condiments that make for good sauce.

Right beside it, and in the midst of what would otherwise be a chaotic combo of shops, is Burger Joint. And in this context it could only really be a redefinition of our notion(s) of the diner, American as that is. Of course diner food and culture isn’t new in this urban space we live in, but always it is two things: (1) overpriced and (2) inaccessible. Both point to the kind of market these spaces want to create and cater to: the yuppy crowd wanting to define their own turf and taste. This is what makes Burger Joint different.

They serve mostly the same things (save for milkshakes), but they do so at prices that are affordable, and with a freshness that is not only because there’s a market on their building’s first floor, but also because it’s the only way to do it. The chicken and beef burgers (P75 and P80 each) are served hot, on soft slightly sweet whole wheat buns sourced locally, with a mix of condiments that almost seems like a dressing: it’s a reminder that when mixed intelligently, the most basic combinations can make the difference.

Yet that doesn’t seem to be enough at Burger Joint. There is the option to add-on your choice among their special sauces (P25 each) which go beyond the usual bleu cheese on the side, garlic mayonnaise in the burger, some jalapeños put in for good measure. Their mushroom and cheese sauce is a bright yellow of creamy goodness that isn’t too salty and is perfectly cheesy. The honey mustard sauce is for the Pinoy palate that’s sweeter than most.
What I swear by though is Burger Joint’s taco sauce, which is farthest from the packed taco sauces that might be served elsewhere. Instead it is a perfect combination of tomatoes, spices and a wee bit of heat. Put it in their chicken burger and I am telling you that it will make your day, if not your week. It will also make you want more.

Which is what’s also on Burger Joint’s menu. When not in the mood for burgers, there are their chicken wings (P120 for five pieces), cooked in and slathered with a layer of some sour and spicy sauce (with a non-spicy alternative available, too) that makes not for the usual buffalo wings, but for fantastic pulutan to pair with the local beers served here (starting at P35). Not in the mood for drinks? The Super Dawg (P100) was what I had last at Burger Joint, and I must say: that’s one solid piece of frankfurter slathered with some cheese, mustard and pickle relish, that doesn’t at all remove from the spiciness of the dawg itself. With bread toasted to save it from sogginess, there is nothing in the Super Dawg that does not satisfy.

The Super Dawg lets that frankfurter shine

That may be said for Burger Joint itself. They’ve got Tacos (P50) and Fish and Chips (P100), both of which I’ve yet to try. There are also some happy desserts here sourced straight from Ernest Zabala’s kitchen, she whose kalamansi pie I still hanker for. On opening night, it was her Chocolate Chocnut Cupcake (P60) that capped off our meals, moist and not painfully sweet, and with that layer of happy that only memories of childhood with chocnut can bring. The Oreo Cheesecake Cupcake (P65) has a whole Oreo cookie in the bottom, a generous sprinkling of Oreo bits in the batter, and a tartness that melds beautifully with the sweetness. Zabala’s kitchen gives Sonja’s a fight, I tell you.

That too is what might be said of Burger Joint’s food. On the one hand, it seems like the dishes that we’d see in the usual American diner-inspired restaurant in the metro; on the other it is a menu that goes beyond it, perfectly fitting in the Pinoy taste for food. Some sweetness here, some heat there; fried food that isn’t too oily, sauces that are healthier than the commercially packed and easily accessible.

This Chocolate Chocnut Cupcake brings back memories of childhood, and ain't as sweet as it looks, sourced from Zabala's kitchen at Burger Joint.

But most importantly there is a freshness to the food at Burger Joint, which it promises by apologizing beforehand for the time it might take to serve your orders. This is what makes it so different as well: right here is some good ol’ Pinoy service, a lot of Pinoy love put into making food, plenty of the provincial freshness. Right here is some food for the Pinoy soul, diner-style. – GMA News