Sandwich Of The Week: Exploring New Mexico's Green Chile Cheeseburger Trail

New Mexico is so proud of their regional riff on the hamburger that the New Mexican Tourism Board has posted a map charting more than 80 of the natives' favorite places to get their green chile cheeseburger fix. Forget about getting your kicks on Route 66 (which also runs through Albuquerque), the GCCB Trail should be referred to as the stairway to heaven. On my recent trip to Santa Fe I was determined to get a representative experience of this Darwinian burger mutation. Though my family wouldn't let me hit all 80, I sampled three distinct styles of green chile cheeseburger in and around Santa Fe.
 

Bert's Burger Bowl has been family owned and proudly boasts but one location nationwide. Though they have recently added Kobe beef, ostrich, and as options, the traditional beef burgers are the way to go for less than five bucks. The green chiles add a nice kick hidden as they always are under their cheese blanket, which in Bert's case appears to be the same bright orange American cheese found on any fast food burger. Ketchup or other condiments are superfluous.

Bert's, which may have a legitimate claim to having invented the green chile cheeseburger, charcoal-grills each burger as ordered. As a result, there's a 10 to 12 minute wait, the resulting decent-sized, backyard barbecue tasting burger is worth every second.

They also have a fairly extensive menu extending from breakfast burritos to fried chicken (including gizzards) to grilled ham and cheese sandwiches (including green chile grilled ham and cheese). I'm fond of their chicken-stuffed flautas — think Mexican chicken stuffed, fried mini-cannolis served with a tortilla bowl filled with guacamole, salsa, and a side of green chiles. Bert's has lifelong devotees. (Photos courtesy Yelp: janel a. and L.S. Love)

Literally across the street from Bert's on Cerrillos Road you can find people lined up at all hours (Bert's closes inexplicably at 6:45 p.m.) in front of one of 75 examples throughout New Mexico of Blake's Lotaburger. (Photo courtesy Flickr/teofilo)

Blake's originally started in Albuquerque before emulating Mickey D's and branching out but only within New Mexico. It is very much a fast food operation and for my first green chile cheeseburger there I allowed them to fully garnish (which I didn't at Bert's). This included lettuce, tomato, raw onions, pickles and, interestingly, mustard. The condiments actually improved the non-descript burger while not detracting from the spicy green chiles and Cheddar cheese as I had feared.

The price was on a par with Bert's. Assuming more meat was appropriate for a joint referred to by the natives simply as Lotaburger, I then ordered a double with just cheese and chiles. Bert's charcoal-grilled flavor was still far preferable.

Like the other green chile cheeseburger joints, even fast food Blake's claimed to use Hatch green chiles. Hatch, New Mexico, south of Santa Fe, is the undisputed capital of green chiles which, unfortunately, do not travel well. Hence, the inability to replicate the green chile cheeseburger experience in New York City. Schnipper's makes a good attempt but falls short. Bill's Burger Bar doesn't even try and uses jalapeños instead of Hatch green chiles, which is green chile cheeseburger heresy.

Then it was time to go out of town, down the Old Las Vegas Highway — the original Route 66, to the green chile cheeseburger joint hailed by Hamburger America's George Motz, Roadfood's Jane and Michael Stern, Food Network, and even Bon Appétit as not only the zenith of green chile cheeseburgers, but perhaps one of the greatest burgers period in the US of A. A 10-seat diner sitting atop a desolate, dusty dirt hill, Bobcat Bite was named after the local fauna that would ravage the garbage cans at night looking for tasty leftovers.

Unlike Bert's or Blake's, Bobcat's ginormous 10 oz burgers are cooked to temperature preference — the menu carefully distinguishing between rare, medium rare, medium, medium well, and well. The green chile is actually even tamer here than Bert's or Blake's, blanketed under white American cheese. Or it may be that the beef steals the show. No fast food burger here.

If Pat LaFrieda's proprietary Black Label burger blend of meats is the pride of New York City's burgers, I'd like to introduce Pat to his New Mexican counterpart whom I'll name "Chuck." Bobcat Bite freshly grinds its beef daily from 100% whole boneless chuck which delivers the perfect beef to fat ratio in my humble opinion.

Not only is Bobcat Bite the greatest green chile cheeseburger you're likely to ever experience, I think it's fair to say that nobody beats Bobcat's meat. Their unique huge ciabatta-like buns are soft but sturdy enough to sop up the Christmas-colored mix of red blood and green chiles on my perfectly cooked rare burger. If you choose to explore the New Mexican green chile cheeseburger trail, you can be assured of striking gold at Bobcat Bite.

(Photo courtesy Flickr/uberculture)