On my birthday, back on a very cold and snowy day in early February, I decided to indulge in a hamburger, something I had not had in well over a year. Why? Because in my attempts to reduce carbs, the bun was off limits. However, on this day, I decided to indulge and ordered a glass of champagne and this simple sandwich for lunch. It came out practically raw, with limp lettuce and a stale tomato. To say I was disappointed, was an understatement. I had been looking forward to it for quite some time. You know when you have a craving for something special and it is less than perfect than what you remember? This was definitely the case on this dreary day. But this whole sad episode got me thinking about my favorite burger and where I had indulged in it.
Many years ago, my dad took us all to Georgetown in DC. We walked around and went shopping and stopped for lunch at Houston’s restaurant, part of the Hillstone Restaurant Group. On that first visit, I recall we ordered the famous spinach and artichoke dip, and it was served with sour cream, salsa, and tortilla chips. I had never had this before and decided on the spot that it was my new favorite dip, beating out my cousin Cindy’s hot artichoke dip by just a hair.
My sister and I ordered a cheeseburger next that came with these thin crispy fries. Growing up in London, my favorite burger at the time came from the original Hard Rock Café on Park Lane. In a land of few good American treats, to me, this was the perfect restaurant and my dad took us frequently. But wait a minute. What was this? This new burger at Houston’s was a revelation. It was served on a perfectly sized bun with crisp iceburg lettuce, fresh tomato, pickles, and American cheese. Everything was in perfect proportion and nothing fell onto my lap. We agreed we had a new favorite and decided to return frequently after that first trip.
From then on, we continued to visit Houston’s and tried some of the other locations of the restaurant in Rockville, and Bethesda MD. Occasionally, we might order the peanut salad or even a Hickory burger, which came with barbeque sauce. My memory was of a really solid restaurant that did everything very well. So much so that I recall begging my friend Emma to drive me into Georgetown so we could have this amazing burger. The two of us made quite a pair taking her white Jeep Wrangler into DC. Upon parking the car, we were flashed by a man literally wearing an old-fashioned raincoat. Emma being British immediately laughed out loud and said the man was very “wee,” which caused him to run off never to be seen again. We went straight to Houston’s and apparently Emma said I inhaled my “massive” burger and proceeded to tell me this for many month’s afterwards since apparently I hardly ate anything the rest of the time we were together!
Flash forward years later and I was reading an article in Bon Appetit, where the author, Andrew Knowlton, waxed poetic about his love for all things Hillstone entitled “Welcome to Hillstone, America’s Favorite Restaurant.” Well, this article really struck a chord with me. But unfortunately, all of the Houston’s restaurants in my area had closed. I honestly never understood why. They were always crowded and popular. Maybe the real estate became too expensive? Regardless, now I had a problem since I needed to introduce my kids to the greatness of my favorite indulgence.
I forgot all about my pondering for Houston’s until recently when I was on vacation and we walked by a restaurant in Montecito, CA called the Honor Bar. I was with my sister and she pointed out that it was a Hillstone restaurant. Suddenly, my interest in going there was top of mind. We started out our first night having a glass of wine on the sidewalk as we waited to dine nearby at another restaurant. The wine was generously poured (this is always a point of concern for me and my sister) and came from some of the best purveyors in the region. I looked over at the patio and the patrons were indeed the beautiful people. This was the land of celebrities and important people after all. There happened to be a fireplace crackling and it was all quite lovely and peaceful. I decided I needed to return the very next day.
We woke up early and John, my sister, and I decided to go on a hike to the Montecito Hot Springs. I dressed in my stretch yoga pants and an ugly mustard colored t-shirt for the walk with my dusty Allbirds on my feet used to hike to Inspiration Point in Santa Barbara the previous day. I was a complete slob and about to get messier, as I ended up crawling on my hands and knees to negotiate a rather slippery hill to climb up to reach the Springs. I was a complete and utter mess by the time I made it back to town. Although, Montecito is the town where Prince Harry and his wife Meghan Markle have settled and everyone seems to wear white and look perfect, no one batted an eye at us as we walked into boutiques and finally took our seats on the outdoor patio of the Honor Bar.
We ordered a glass of champagne and it arrived chilled and in a beautiful glass with a little bee imprint on it. We next ordered the dip duo and out came guacamole and a warm queso dip with too few tortillas. Immediately our disappointment was registered and more tortillas came. I decided I had to order the cheeseburger and fries for my dad, who would have thoroughly enjoyed it. My sister ordered chicken meatballs with mustard sauce and an emerald kale salad with peanut dressing on the side (see recipes recreated and posted on Gaelic & Garlic!) Just as one might expect, both of these items were terrific, but the burger was magical.
It arrived cut in half with toothpicks supporting the mass. The bun, baked in house, was light and perfect. You could see all of the layers starting with homemade coleslaw at the top, followed by tomato and pickles and ending with the burger on the bottom with the right amount of cheese grilled to perfection. I was instantly transported all over again to the 1980s and my first visit to Houston’s with my dad.
Food has a way of doing that. Of bringing back the happiest memories and the good times. Although we have all become weary of pandemic life, that taste of a childhood memory meant the world to me. I learned recently that Hillstone owns another restaurant in Bethesda, Woodmont Grill. I looked at the menu and it appears they have the spinach and artichoke dip and the burger on the menu. I suspect in the not too distant future, Ryan and Luke will be making the trip with me to check it out!
John said the burger was “okay,” but to me it is the epitome of perfection and I’m almost glad it is far away, since I would need to have it a bit more often than I probably should! Bravo to Hillstone for the excellent experience, the memories and for not turning away a muddy trio when we showed up on the patio!