The Menu

The one Gerald made on a Tuesday in 2001 and never stopped making. Smashed beef patty, provolone, iceberg, white onion, pickles, and the Sauce — our proprietary blend that has never been written down and never will be.

Double wagyu smash, ghost pepper-infused bone marrow butter, cave-aged gruyère, and a bun that knows its place.

Wagyu smash, wild mushroom duxelles, black truffle shavings, brie, and the quiet confidence of someone who summers in Provence.

Smash patty on grilled sourdough, Swiss cheese melted past the point of return, and caramelized onions that were started three hours before you arrived. Gerald considers this his most honest burger.

Hand-pressed wagyu patty, truffle-kissed aioli, heirloom tomato, aged white cheddar, and a side of measured contemplation.

Grilled free-range breast, caramelized pineapple ring, pepper jack, pickled red onion, fresh jalapeño, cilantro-lime aioli. Gerald was against it. He made it anyway. The matter is closed.

Shatteringly crisp chicken, a tangle of chaos-cut onion straws, cave-blue dressing applied without restraint, and a cold leaf of iceberg that is not here to make friends.

A single, emotionally available wagyu smash, butter lettuce, heirloom tomato, and house-made thousand island for the person who knows what they want.

Double smash, properly aged Swiss (non-negotiable), thick-cut bacon laid with conviction, and a crown of hand-battered onion rings that arrived uninvited and immediately became the point.

Hand-cut frites, black truffle oil, Parmigiano-Reggiano, fresh chives. Simple. Correct.

Hand-shredded napa cabbage, house smash sauce, a whisper of celery seed. The slaw that slaw wishes it could be.

Rendered from the same wagyu as the patties. Crispy. Consequential.

Single-source alpine spring water, served at 52°F in a glass that has been described as 'assertive.'

Oat milk, Madagascar vanilla, a light drizzle of Maldon salt. Cold. Thick. Quietly superior.

House-made cola syrup, filtered water, a touch of citrus. We don't serve Pepsi. We don't serve Coke. We serve this.

A 12oz bottle of the proprietary house blend. The recipe has never been written down. This bottle exists anyway. Gerald did not want to sell it. He was overruled. He is aware of this.

A physical card you buy in advance and redeem on any future visit to upgrade any burger to a double patty. Gerald prefers you commit to the decision before you arrive.

A branded placemat. Maze, word search, connect-the-dots of Gerald's face. Technically complimentary but listed here for operational reasons Gerald has not disclosed.