The tattoos on the back of Tony Stanton's arm tell a story. There's a depiction of a hamburger oozing from the center with cheese. And next to that, dollar signs.
"That's because 'Jucy Lucy' pays the bills," said Stanton, who has manned the grill at south Minneapolis dive Matt's Bar for a decade.
Stanton flips more than 400 Jucy Lucys in a day for a devoted fan base, who believe Matt's Bar to be the birthplace of this cheese-stuffed burger.
Three miles down the road, the 5-8 Club has its own set of Juicy Lucy devotees (obviously the spelling of the burger is up for debate). This 70-year-old speakeasy insists it invented this stalwart of Minneapolis bar cuisine.
There's a war going on in south Minneapolis between two rivals, and the only weapon is an endless dribble of scalding hot cheese. For half a century, these two bars on Cedar Avenue South have claimed to make the original, and best, Juicy Lucy.
While both sides were racking up supporters and media attention, their ooey-gooey burgers became as intrinsic to Minnesota food culture as hot dish.
"It's what we're known for," said Amy Thielen, a Midwest food expert and author of the new memoir, "Give a Girl a Knife."
"Minnesotans love to go to a dark dive bar and eat something it's known for, something fun and something that will potentially burn your face," Thielen said. "There's an element of risk."