A not-so-religious experience.


The Lord answered, “Bring me a heifer three years old, a she-goat, three years old, a ram three years old, a turtle dove and a young pigeon… and a really fuckin’ greasy cheeseburger”

– Genesis 15:9

So The Burger’s Priest is new in town, and people are understandably caught up in the trendy marketing and weird-ass name of this strange new burger joint.

Why is it called The Burger’s Priest…?

Do they sprinkle holy water on the buns?

Do they put the fear of hell into the hearts of sinners and disbelievers?

Do they offer free burgers to pre-teen boys in exchange for fellatio?

As it turns out, they don’t do any of the above. Besides some preachy seminars at the bottom of the website and a Genesis verse printed on the wall, this was just a normal burger joint.

Said Genesis verse. Complete with 5 degree, completely intentional camera tilt.

Said Genesis verse. Complete with 5 degree, completely intentional camera tilt.

Ah right, this is a restaurant review.

So the restaurant itself is very tastefully decorated. Nice usage of dark ceiling tiles, retro lighting and a metric fuckton of stainless steel.



It was so nicely decorated that it was almost hard to notice the 700 people stuffed inside.

Seriously. The place was PACKED.

No doubt people from the surrounding office buildings heard about the hype and decided to check it out. Take my word on this one, unless you’re willing to wait 50 minutes in a tiny restaurant next to a sweltering grill, wait a month until the commotion has died down, then go.

And the actual food?

I had “What’s Right”, or in normal-people speak, the double cheeseburger combo with a cookie, canned pop and chili cheese fries. This came to $17 something dollars before tip.

Well, to be honest, the burger was pretty GOD-damned good. You could tell that the produce was fresh and that nothing came pre-sliced out of a sealed plastic container. The bread was soft (as advertised) and the meat was definitely not frozen. You can see the heavily tattooed fry chefs pressing down balls of ground chuck (I’m assuming it’s chuck at least) on the flattop, which produced a noticeably seared crust on the burger.

While it doesn’t look huge or intimidating, the burger is drenched in what I’m assuming is beef grease and the extra oil definitely fills you up. Don’t let that scare you away though, besides the rivulets of fat running from the burger and dripping into a sodden puddle on the table, it’s hardly noticeable. It’s definitely not somewhere to go while on a diet (as expected, it’s a BURGER JOINT).

Not pictured: lake of grease.

Not pictured: lake of grease.

And everything else I ordered?


The cookie was soft, but way too sweet and otherwise plain, and the chili cheese fries were pretty underwhelming. This may be due to the fact that they were sitting in a box for 10 minutes, but that’s hardly an excuse for just really uninteresting tasting chili. It seems like they went hard on the ground beef and cheese and forgot all about the beans, tomatoes, spices and just about everything else that goes into chili.

The Verdict

The Good:

  • Burger
  • Coke
  • Decor

The Bad:

  • 50 minute wait/giant line
  • Everything other than the burger

The Ugly:

  • Stupid buzzwords and obnoxious, faux-trendy website (see below)

All in all, this wouldn’t be a bad place at all to grab a burger (and nothing but the burger) during lunch, before returning to your sedentary office life and not exercising.

Ah yes. The website.

The first thing you notice is the obese, neckbearded douche-bro video that was meant to be some lame jab at food bloggers, but really just ends up being a sad PSA on what happens to the human body after 30 years of burgers and neglect.

I wasn't joking.

I wasn’t joking.

Moving on from that, we have a jumbled mishmash of shit because websites that scroll down for 80 pages are apparently the future. (What are you looking at me for?)

In this steaming pile of horseshit, I managed to pick out a few shining shit-gems.

“custom blend of ultra premium beef”

“We believe in purity, simplicity and over a hundred years of grilling and grinding techniques.”

First of all, what the fuck is “ultra premium beef”?

After careful research (read: Google), I have come to the conclusion that they are either:

a) Ordering all their beef from Cedar Rapids, Iowa

b) Blending dog-food into the ground beef


c) Full of shit and just using normal fucking beef and the most pretentious of buzzwords.

Honestly. It’s shit like this that gets me.

Quick lesson on actual grades of beef.

See “ultra fuckin’ premium” beef on there? Yeah. That’s what I thought.

The only people who would read “ultra premium beef” and believe that it means anything shouldn’t be allowed to procreate.


“a hundred years of grilling and grinding techniques”

Holy mother of Christ this is stupid.

When I barbeque things over charcoal, do I brag to my guests that I believe in purity, simplicity, and over 40,000 years of grilling techniques?

No. I don’t. Because I’m not some un-creative schmuck who should really stick to making burgers and stay away from writing things.

Leave the writing to the bored professionals with nothing else to do with their life.

I’ll leave you with my Bible verse of the day:

Yet she increased her prostitution, remembering the days of her youth when she engaged in prostitution in the land of Egypt. She lusted after their genitals – as large as those of donkeys, and their seminal emission was as strong as that of stallions.

– Ezekiel 23:19

The Burger's Priest on Urbanspoon


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