Rockwell and Sons

It’s another outing…

rockwell4..For the biggest category of my blog. The one I’m constantly accused of basing my blog around. But seriously, when the category of burgers in Melbourne is so strong, it can’t really be helped. If I started this entry with ‘American chef, diner focused menu, brioche etc’ you could be mistaken for thinking this was any other of the number of entries I’ve made.. But Rockwell and Sons is different.

It was your typical Burger Tuesday adventure, except for the fact that it was on a Thursday, and Rockwell and Sons was one of the last cards in the deck left to play of Melbourne’s elite. (Funnily enough, Rockpool Bar and Grill –  considered the holy grail, is all that remains). We arrived just before 8 to a packed restaurant consisting of a solid wood Southern American dining environment where we were sat opposite the open kitchen and were able to see the American classics like Southern buttermilk fried chicken sandwiches, pressed rib sandwiches (not burgers)  and, of course, their trademark double patty smash – a burger filled with a pair of juicy patties,  some crunchy greenery to add texture, one of the most delectable extremely buttery brioche buns (buttermilk i suspect) and.. of all things, Kraft slices. A myriad of  cheeses were tested initially, but owner Casey (pictured above) ultimately decided that this Aussie classic would get the gong. For good reason too, because this creamy, dreamy, calorie laden packet of goodness set my taste buds in a tango.

A fantastic craft beer selection (With lots of exotic American specimens – some even with matching exotic price tags) and an eclectic wine list compliment food beautifully.

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There was just something special about the burger. The way it got the flavours flowing was baffling, testament of obvious skills and expertise from the kitchen. It might not look the best, it might not have the most inspiring of ingredients, but the way everything just worked together, that the seamless patties were cooked to perfection and blended straight into the burger without dominating it.. And finally, that special sauce.

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Thick, hand cut fries were huge, and unfortunately (And I stress – on the night) uninspiring. Dry and withered, they were the only disappointment of the night. I’m sure on a good day these would deliver however.

I know it probably etches into too creamy territory, but these guys get away with it. Ignore the obvious fact that the lactose intolerant will by next morning be inseparable from their porcelain thrones due to the high dairy content, and just get on down to Rockwell and Sons. Because, and I can’t stress this enough, it will be one of your crowning life achievements to have eaten here.

Rockwell and Sons
288 Smith St, Collingwood
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