Restaurant Review: In-N-Out - the Cult of the Hamburger

When a person like me visits California from a staid Midwestern state like mine, one of two reactions is bound to occur. Either people love the offbeat and the weird or they absolutely hate it. Sure, it's California, and you expect the people there to be fanatics of one thing or another. If it's not the wackiness of Venice Beach or the laid-back trip back into the 1960s on the Haight-Ashbury, it's something else. Californians are known for electing actors for posts as mayors, governors and beyond. The state houses a colorful assortment of celebrities, mass murderers, environmentalists, artists, musicians and just plain folks. Visiting the state is almost like visiting a foreign country, except you won't need to shell out $90 for a passport.

So too, goes the food. California is known for its gastronomical delights (ask my scale, I think I may have gained ten pounds in six days), and the food snobs are militant about their California cuisine. However, there's another side of California, one that celebrates the glories of fast food. All along the Left Coast (and now in Nevada and Arizona), there are compact establishments of uniquely Californian fast food that continually thumbs its collective nose at the big chain burger joints. This little burger joint that could is known as In-N-Out.

I've never understood the appeal of this little red, white and yellow hamburger stand. I don't eat fast food, and make it a point not to eat many hamburgers at all if I can help it. There's a long line of high cholesterol and heart disease in my family, and while I'm no vegetarian, I'd rather waste my allotment of meat products to a nicely grilled and almost raw filet mignon. If I'm going to die of a heart attack, I want to make certain that I do it with the best of grub, not with junk food.

My introduction to In-N-Out occurred when my son moved to San Francisco three years ago. Granted, he's still a growing boy, a starving college student and he'll eat just about anything. Once introduced to the legendary hamburger, he was smitten. I couldn't quite get the cultish appeal of the place. My son and his friends spoke of the hamburgers in hushed and reverent tones. There was a secret menu, he said. The Masons owned it, he said, and that was why there were cryptic references to Bible passages printed on the cups and hamburger wrappings. Yeah. It was all Greek to me. I still didn't get it. In-N-Out looked to be a glorified White Castle, and that was nothing to write home to mom about.

When my son finally coerced me into going to an In-N-Out, I still didn't get it. However, I was willing to try it. How could one argue with a line of customers going out of the door, the drive-thru jammed with cars? The place was packed to capacity, it wasn't lunchtime or dinnertime and this was not the In-N-Out located in busy Fisherman's Wharf, but the one in blue collar Daly City. I could see the rapture in the faces of those in line. For many customers, a pilgrimage to In-N-Out appears to be a deeply religious experience.

I'll admit that my double-double (double meat, double cheese, a mini-heart attack on a bun) was pretty good. It tasted fresh, and the lettuce and tomato was crisp. The burgers are served in paper, attractively folded in such a way that a third of the burger peeks out as if it's a papoose rolled up in a blanket. Two or more on an order are arranged like little donuts in a box. My son had his usual, a four by four (four meat patties topped with four slices of cheese, a massive coronary on a bun), which was dripping wet. He also ordered the "animal fries" which is also on the "secret" menu. These are topped with onions and cheese. I cringed as he downed his entire meal, and then scarfed up my leftovers.

While I was in California last week, he begged me to take him to In-N-Out. This time I made the trip into an investigative jaunt. Again, I witnessed the masses as they approaced the counter with glazed eyes. In-N-Out is the heroin of the fast food nation. Since it was near the lunch hour, an employee was sent out to the small drive-thru to collect orders before the cars made it to the take out window. Inside, In-N-Out's kitchen is open to the small dining area, and you can witness workers hustling butt to complete orders. It's amazing, but they do so with a certain amount of grace, and it looks much like a fast food ballet.

My son ordered his beloved four by four, I had a one-patty cheeseburger, my daughter had the double-double, and my son's girlfriend, who's a vegetarian, had hers meatless (more tomatoes instead of meat). The four of us received a filling lunch for $22.

I hadn't realized it before, but In-N-Out only serves burgers, fries and drinks. There are no lattes, burritos, chicken or fish sandwiches, or fake riblets. Looking at the web site, you will see that In-N-Out is family owned and has been in business since 1948. They own their own meatpacking plant which churns out 100% beef patties, use fresh American cheese, slice up all their vegetables in each restaurant, including lettuce and tomatoes, and hand cut each potato as they are needed. In-N-Out doesn't employ the use of heat lamps and none of the restaurants have freezers. They make their own buns, too. You can't argue with freshness like that.

It's got to be a great place to work, because some employees have been there 20 years. Of course, with a decent starting pay ($10 an hour) and complete benefit package including health, life, vision and dental insurance, 401K, and paid vacations, is it any wonder? I wonder if McDonald's, Wendy's or Burger King can say the same.

I haven't joined the In-N-Out cult yet, but I'm leaning in that direction.

Check out the web site at www.in-n-out.com for a location near you.