Yesterday the first In-N-Out Burger join in Texas opened its doors. The chain is unlike others in terms of the fervent loyalty it engenders in its fans, and they came by the thousands yesterday to Frisco, Texas to partake in its offerings. Some of them wore paper hats. Some of them ran out of gas. And then there's this woman, a Cali transplant, who openly cried on camera as she bit into the burger and memories of her childhood flooded back. That grilled patty was her madeleine.
I'll admit, the first time I had In-N-Out, I thought it was completely overrrated. I lived in the Central Valley, and all the In-N-Out's at that time were in SoCal. They had opened one near Magic Mountain, a place me and my friends visited relatively frequently. So we didn't have to make a trip into LA proper to get this mythical burger, whose modified "In-N-Out Urge" stickers graced many a lowered mini-truck (is that redundant?) in Kings County. After a hellacious wait, we got our burgers. It was good, but I couldn't help thinking, "that's it?". Kind of like the first time I had sex. But like sex, In-N-Out is something that just gets better with time. Those of you who've had In-N-Out once and were all like "meh, Five Guys is better", I get where you are coming from, but you are completely and totally wrong. Just eat a couple more Double-Double's, you'll see. It will all suddenly make sense. In-N-Out is by far the greatest chain burger in the world.
Speaking of which, I have managed to perfect perfection. Write this down and read it to the cashier for the ultimate In-N-Out burger:
Double-Double, medium-rare (you can tell 'em "roadkill" if you want to be cool), with
spread and tomato only (Lettuce is just unneccesary, textural filler. Onions overwhelm other flavors.), mustard grilled (they'll ask if you want the pickle, that's up to you), with sport peppers.