Stack 571 Burger & Whiskey Bar

He said:

A friend told me to try the PB&J burger at Stack 571. That sounded strange to me, but he said he enjoyed it, even though he had been skeptical at first. So off we went to check it out. Our waitress agreed that the PB&J burger was a great choice, so I decided to order my own. But first things first.

Stack 571 just moved to Utah about three months ago, though they have several locations in the Puget Sound area. It is a bar as well as a restaurant, with an impressive collection of whiskeys, bourbons, Scotches, and ryes, which were evident from the long list on the menu as well as from the wall-to-wall set of shelves behind the bar that included a sliding ladder to reach the top-shelf spirits. Yet, despite that, we found it a family-friendly restaurant. We observed several families with young children, including several in highchairs provided by the restaurant. The menu included a “For the Kids” section. (Considering my objective for today’s visit, I found it odd that the kids’ menu didn’t include PB&J).

Our menu listed a dozen intriguing burgers, several sandwiches, and salads. While we waited for our order, we observed many fantastic (and large) burgers and salads on their way to other tables. Stack 571 doesn’t offer pedestrian hamburgers. Their hamburgers boast unusual flavor combinations. The Big Kahuna includes Kimchi slaw and grilled pineapple. The Bánh Mì has pickled daikon and carrot slaw. The Cambozola Pear Burger has balsamic maple relish, walnut bacon, baby kale, and grilled pear. Every one of these sounds great to me! When I saw that they had a Poutine Burger, I knew Kathy would have to try it and that she would either love it or hate it. We told the waitress that Kathy, a French Canadian, is a poutine snob. But I’ll let her tell you about that.

I had come for the PB&J Burger. I wasn’t sure that sounded as great as the others, but I was determined to find out. My trepidation only grew as I waited for it to arrive. When it finally did and I pulled back the top of the bun to see a very generous slather of mixed berry jelly, my apprehension only increased. I ate my waffle fries first. Finally, I could put it off no longer. Since it was quite large, with an irregularly shaped, hand-formed patty, I quartered it with my knife. Kathy laughed out loud as the jelly oozed onto the plate.

So how was it? Not bad. I had expected a jolting taste of the jelly, but it was actually hard to detect. The sweetness of the jelly just sort of disappeared into the other flavors. Into the charred juiciness of the burger patty. Maybe it melded with the bacon-whiskey jam. So that wasn’t a problem at all. Meanwhile, I found the chunky peanut butter underneath the patty. The peanut butter flavor did not hide among the others, but that’s okay. The flavor was interesting. However, it made me remember one of the reasons I don’t eat a lot of peanut butter sandwiches. But first, a story. Don’t worry; there will be a point to it.

Many years ago, I travelled with a colleague to Pacific Grove, California, for a week of work. On our last day there, we listened to a local radio station during our drive back to the San Francisco airport. In between songs, the DJ ran a contest. He issued a trivia question and took callers trying to guess the answer. He asked them to identify what “arachibutyrophobia” is. This was back before we could simply search the Internet for the answer, but I knew what it was. My colleague laughed at my answer and didn’t believe me. That’s okay, I told him. Soon, somebody would call in with the right answer and I would be validated.

However, nobody knew the right answer. Several guessed “the fear of spiders.” One guessed “the fear of British people” (the DJ had pronounced it “arachi-Britia-phobia,” so I guess that wasn’t so outlandish of a guess). I think somebody guessed “the fear of peanut brittle” or something like that. Knowing that “arachide” is French for “peanut,” I think that’s a reasonable guess. But none of these was right.

The longer we drove without getting the correct answer, the more antsy I grew. Eventually, we would reach the airport and leave without ever proving to my colleague that I had known the correct answer. In fact, we did reach the airport. As we drove toward the rental car return, I spied a pay phone near the sidewalk. I yelled, “Pull over!” and jumped out to use the phone. My colleague drove around the loop while I frantically dialed the radio station’s number. Busy. Redial. Busy. Redial. I finally got through and they put me on hold. My colleague arrived again and signaled to me that they were taking callers. I waited a moment longer and then heard the DJ ask me on the phone, “Do you know what arachibutyrophobia is?”

“That’s easy,” I said, still standing on the busy airport sidewalk. “Arachibutyrophobia is the fear of having peanut butter stick to the roof of your mouth.”

“That’s exactly right!” the DJ said. He then asked me how I knew that. I explained that someone had once told me about it when they discovered that I like to put a slice of lettuce on my peanut butter sandwiches. I don’t have a phobia about it. I just don’t care for the pasty, clumpy texture that doesn’t go down easily.

And so, we get back to Stack 571’s PB&J burger. I found the taste of the hamburger quite acceptable. The patty was ample and juicy. Even the peanut butter tasted okay. But I didn’t care for its thick, sticky texture. Fortunately, it was a small grievance that didn’t keep me from enjoying my meal.

The PB&J provided an excellent adventure, but I think next time I will order another option. They all look so great!

She said:

It seems as though one way or another that—by increments—I’m going to be coaxed into liking hamburgers. Stack 571 is definitely a specialty burger joint. The assortment of sandwiches included in the menu was impressive, and made choosing just one a bit difficult. Averse to spiciness, I immediately ruled out the Big Kahuna, the Bánh Mì, and the Three Pepper Bomb. However, the 571 seemed like a safe bet, and I was leaning towards giving it a try, especially after our waitress pointed out that it was a “basic burger.” However, my eyes lit up when I saw that there was a Poutine Burger on the list. I said to Brian, “Ooh, when our waitress comes back, I’ll ask her to tell me about that one!”

So, when she approached our table, Brian piped up. “Now, you need to know that she [meaning me] is a Poutine snob.” I interjected and explained that I was French Canadian, and I take my poutine very seriously. I explained to her what constitutes a really good, authentic poutine. She listened attentively and then explained how the Poutine Burger is prepared.

I said, “All right, you’ve convinced me. I’ll give it a try.”

So, while we waited for our lunches to arrive, I perused our surroundings. Everything looked hip and modern to me. Dark, mottled concrete floors, metal chairs, black-top tables, black chalkboards with artistically drawn menu items and sketches on them. Copper light fixtures. A wall dedicated to whiskey bottles and other kinds of alcohol; a spacious outdoor dining patio decorated with wood barrels upon which sat potted flowers. Classic rock tunes played in the background. I caught myself humming along to Bon Jovi’s “Bad Medicine” and “I Shot the Sheriff” by Bob Marley at a couple of points. The sunshine, the décor, the music, the friendliness of the waitstaff, and the happy chatter of our fellow restaurant patrons gave off a very relaxed and lovely vibe.

Now, about that Poutine Burger. Admittedly, I was prepared to be critical of it. Yeah, I know. That wasn’t very nice of me, but my expectations were low based on previous dining experiences. Anyway, can I just say, “Oh, wow”? The hand-formed beef patty was juicy and smoky, the fries were lightly seasoned, the gravy was savory and salty, and the bun tasted like the homemade creations one would expect from Grandma’s kitchen. Gourmand beware: this is a very rich burger and our waitress warned me beforehand that it would put me into a “food coma.” I ate my fill and took the rest home to enjoy later—and enjoy it I did! 😋

When our waitress stopped by to ask me what I thought, I told her it was absolutely delicious. She said, “Oh, good! I told our chef that we had a poutine expert in the house and if the burger didn’t come to snuff, he’d have to answer to you.” It was fun banter, and I left happy, satisfied, and full.

Oh, and Brian didn’t mention what he won from the radio’s trivia contest. Since he was about to return home, he declined a pair of tickets to some concert the next day, but the radio station mailed him some swag (a T-shirt, bumper sticker) and a three-pound bag of pistachios. Yeah, too bad he never got to enjoy the pistachios. When they arrived, I commandeered them and greedily ate them all by myself!

Conclusion:

We think Stack 571 may start winning Best Hamburger awards soon. If large, gourmet burgers are your thing, be sure to give this place a try.