Grab and go dining – four hands on picks that go big on flavor

Cutthroat Burger

It’s been a stubborn point of contention of mine forever – an expertly cooked old school burger beats these new-fangled smashed things. I’ll take a messy, slicked forearm all day long. I am, of course, an old man shaking his fist at the clouds, and the first to admit that there are exceptions to the rules pigheadedness.

Cutthroat Burgers are just that, a bread and meat rebuttal of all my nonsense. The menu is intentionally concise with just five beefy selections. There’s also a Beyond Meat-powered option for vegetarians. The wildest concoction is the still relatively restrained Elvis, coming with peanut butter, bacon, and cherry peppers. Prices are fair, starting at ten bucks for a single, twelve for a double.

The patty has that signature lacy perimeter down perfectly, caramelized edges that deliver sweetness and brittle crisp. It’s a quality patty that hasn’t been Hulk-smashed to within an inch of its life. It also packs a notably beefy punch with smoky char from furious cooking.

This is by no means a dainty burger. It’s not one you’ll pick up and plop down, intermittently swirling a wine glass. No. This is the messy type of burger that demands table talk temporarily stop; once you pick it up, you’ll be focused on finishing in a single concerted effort. Silence falls across our table as we all do just that. It’s a very good burger, one of the most enjoyable I’ve tried in a while. I will happily concede that it puts me in my place when it comes to smashing. I won’t ever recant my pearl-clutching position on brioche buns, though. It’s cake, you can’t convince me otherwise.

I finally managed to catch CB over at Epic Brewery on State with the added (check their IG, they appear at Fisher and Thieves Guild regularly) allure of checking out the brewery’s new tap room. No sitting on concrete parking lots here. Yes, I know, I’ll say it again, I am an old man. The front of Epic still retains the bottle shop and a few seats at the bar, but poke your nose out back, past the brewing gear, and there’s a whole new room.

I didn’t manage to snag a photo this time, as the room was plenty busy, a mix of folks demolishing burgers in quiet contemplation, and others taking part in a make-your-own-suncatcher class. From chatting to the bar staff, it looks like they’ll be expanding their programming at the new space.

If it’s been a while since you swung by here, it’s worth a revisit. There are high and low tops, counter seating, and the whole thing opens up onto a spacious outdoor East side patio. The latter is noteworthy as it’ll remain plenty shaded in the inevitable scorched earth of a Summer we should see any day now.

BB.Q Chicken

You’ve almost certainly noticed the inundation of fried chicken joints these last few years; the Wasatch is teeming with pressure fryers vying for your wallet’s attention. Local contenders, celeb-backed brands, and international empires alike. BB.Q Chicken falls into the latter camp, operating in nearly 60 countries with 3,500 locations. South Salt Lake was the first outpost for the South Korean brand in Utah last year. It’s absolutely worth a detour if you’re headed Southbound on State.

Lest the name confuse you, there’s no Traeger in the kitchen, no lusty post oak smoke. Indeed, the moniker refers to the chain’s “Best of the Best Quality” mantra. In the context of the fast casual world, my first visit experience was an excellent one. Look, I don’t know what the syllabus looks like at BB.Q Chicken’s “Chicken University” (yes, they have one), but I’d love to take a semester.

Without said schooling, I can only assume the kitchen uses magma in the kitchen. The chicken sandwich (even after a brief journey home) remained remarkably juicy; a water balloon of hot schmaltz exploding on the tongue. Be careful. I went with the spicy option that did manage to deliver some modest brow tingle, but nothing particularly oppressive. There’s nothing particularly complicated going on here, which I mean in the most flattering way of course; it’s just very well executed fried chicken, which, as John Lennon famously penned, is all you need. Just go with it…

Bonus points: skip the fries and try the So Ddeok So Ddeok – a popular South Korean street food, effectively an interleaved skewering of dense chewy rice cakes and emulsified mini sausages. The completed lattice is brushed in a sweet and slightly spicy sauce for a final flourish.

Alhambra Shawarma

I have said over and over – I eat like a child when left unsupervised. If a dish says suitable for two, I typically take it as both a challenge and a personal affront. That’s me in the corner of the restaurant, weeping over the calamitous aftermath of muttering, “molcajete for one, please.” The above is the Supreme Shawarma from Taylorsville’s Alhambra Shawarma – the brick and mortar outgrowth of their food truck original. The company describes it as “a 13-inch Masterpiece”. I won’t argue.

This thing is huge, as big as my forearm. The inside is stuffed to the tensile limits. Falafel, French fries, and a parsley-speckled tabbouleh, which delivers a lovely jade glimmer. There’s a mayo-powered garlic sauce, and heapings of shaved shawarma. You can pick beef, chicken, falafel, or a mix of all of them. I’ll let you guess how my inner child tackled that decision.

Before you ask, I wasn’t up to the task of toppling this in one sitting. Eyes bigger than the belly. Always.

El Morelense

For the first time in as long as I recall, possibly ever in fact – I found myself asking for a torta, not a taco. Wherever that random inspiration sprang from, thanks, universe. This thing was sublime.

I believe the bread in question here is a telera roll (do correct me if my Mexican-baked goods taxonomy is off the mark), and it does a remarkable job of supporting the completed ensemble. There’s a slightly crisp exterior with chew, and loads of floury, pillowy softness. Inside there’s tomato, guacamole, onion, mayo, jalapenos, and the star of the show – al pastor, sliced directly from the trompo.

The shaved pork is mesmerizing stuff, as it always is. There’s a prominent backbone of warm clove, maybe allspice, and just a hint of sweetness. It’s wonderfully seasoned, packing a powerful salty punch. You can order the al pastor, dorada style, which is, I believe, a sizzling crisp finish on the flat top, but I can’t imagine messing with the meat as is – perfectly juicy as it is from the rotating spit. I won’t disagree with anyone who lists this as the best in the city.

On the side, I receive a trio of salsa, each knock your socks off into next week good. There’s an earthy guajillo, an herbaceous, fresh, and assertive jalapeno/serrano type salsa, and what I think might be a cremosa – a sort of creamier, oil-emulsified sauce. All three deliver unrestrained heat and flavor.

I spend the next five minutes dunking, dipping, pouring, and making a monstrous mess of the kitchen counter. A child, I tell you.

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Stuart Melling

Hi, I’m Stuart, nice to meet you!  I’m the founder, writer and wrangler at Gastronomic SLC.  I’m a multiple-award winning journalist and have written in myopic detail about the Salt Lake City  dining scene for the better part of seventeen years.

I’ve worked extensively with multiple local publications from Visit Salt Lake to Salt Lake Magazine, not least helped to consult on national TV.   Pause those credits, yep, that’s me! I’m also a former restaurant critic of more than five years, working for the Salt Lake Tribune.    I’m largely fueled by a critical obsession with rice, alliteration and the use of big words I don’t understand.   What they’re saying about me: “Not inaccurate”, “I thought he was older”, “I don’t share his feelings”.

Want to know more? This is why I am the way I am.