Since the burger itself is a bit of a wallflower, its friends need to be the life of the party. Go crazy with toppings. A heap of caramelized onions, a thick slice of ripe tomato, pickles, and a slather of grainy mustard can mask any lean-related sins.
I like to add a slice of strong cheddar, because if you’re using low-fat meat, you might as well live vicariously through the cheese. It’s like wearing sweatpants with a tuxedo jacket—a strange mix, but it totally works.
And don’t even think about a dry, whole-wheat bun. Get a brioche or a potato roll. The soft, sweet bread acts as a forgiveness cushion for the lean patty. You’re not eating a burger; you’re eating a construct designed for survival and satisfaction.
The Honest Verdict
Look, is low-fat hamburger meat ever going to beat a perfect, 80/20, fatty, dripping-with-juice cheeseburger? No. That’s like saying a rowboat is faster than a speedboat. It’s just a different vibe.
But when you’re trying to be a small bit healthier, or you just don’t want to feel like a human grease trap for the rest of the afternoon, it has its place. It’s the weekday burger. It’s the “I’ll have a salad tomorrow” burger.
So go ahead, buy that 93/7 pack. Just bring some personality, some moisture, and a forgiving attitude. With the right moves, you can turn that lean, mean, suspiciously-dry-looking meat into something you’ll actually smile about. Or at least, something you won’t have to feed to the dog.
