The first thing we did when we got to Detroit last night was leave town. There's a bar in Dearborn that is widely considered, among people who track such things, to have one of the best burgers in the world. Once again, we were lucky to have the place almost entirely to ourselves, and owner/bartender Mark Miller schooled us on local history, the bar business, and most importantly, the ethos of his long-time burger outfit.
These really were some of the best, if not the very best, burgers we've ever had—Emily and I both agreed. (And as I told Mark, my grandfather was a cattle rancher, so I've had a few.) I ordered this one rare, and it actually was rare, and that was great, because Miller gets his beef directly from Detroit's Eastern Market, and knows where it walked around before that. Paired with some McDonald's-level-delicious fries (don't front) and a couple High Lifes (no relation to the bar, though their Miller distributor used to work there) it was just about heaven.
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