
The burger: Climbing the stairs to Annie's Parlour, I made a sobering calculation. I've been eating cheeseburgers at this Dinkytown institution for nearly 40 years. How did I get to be that old? The only reassuring part of that equation is that, during that time, I don't know that the formula for the burgers has ever changed.
I'm old enough to remember when Perine's Books occupied the building. When the longtime U of M staple disappeared in the late 1970s, multiple tenants moved in. That's when restaurateur John Rimarcik opened Greenstreets on the second floor.
It didn't fly. "Greenstreets' food will not have anyone racing back," wrote Minneapolis Star critic Karin Winegar. Ouch.
Fortunately, Rimarcik (owner of the Monte Carlo in the North Loop) had been operating a very successful burgers-and-malts joint since the mid-1970s on the other side of campus, on Cedar Avenue in the West Bank neighborhood. It was called Annie's Parlour, and he eventually imprinted the name and the concept on Greenstreets; it's been popular ever since.
With good reason. The burgers are excellent. They always were.
In an era when diner-style, double-patty cheeseburgers blanketed in gooey American cheese are the standard, it's refreshing to occasionally revisit a different kind of classic.
At Annie's Parlour (and at Rimarcik's other burgers-and-malts operation, the Convention Grill in Edina), the format is different: a thick single patty (it must weigh in somewhere in between a quarter pound and a third pound) that reaches to the bun's edges.
The seasoning could never be described as aggressive, and that freshly ground beef is cooked to a no-nonsense medium-well on a flattop. The exterior gets a bit of crispy char, the interior remains juicy and all traces of pink have disappeared.