The 18 most supremely satisfying burgers in Philly

A standard-bearer in this town, the burger at a.kitchen is one for pickle lovers. Inside a dark, densely seeded and delightfully squishy High Street bun, you’ll find a pair of beautifully medium 3.5 oz beef patties made with a custom blend of chuck, shortrib, and sirloin trim from butcher DeBragga and Spitler. They’re pressed together with a layer of American cheese, then topped with a smear of Dijonnaise and chopped cornichons. Perfectly sized, it has real heft without being unwieldy. Available at both a.kitchen proper and its moodier sister concept, a.bar, across the hall through AKA Hotel’s lobby, it’s $24, but that includes the signature wedge fries, which are spears of golden-fried potatoes with surprisingly light and creamy centers that belie their stout appearance. — Kiki Aranita

The burger at Dave Conn’s fantastic Italian Market gem takes full advantage of the open kitchen’s charcoal-fired hearth. The thick patty recalls a deluxe backyard cookout beauty, but it’s taken to the next level by the dry-aged beef, which is topped with clothbound Cabot cheddar melting down its sides, aioli, and house BBQ sauce, all on top of caramelized onions. — Craig LaBan

Can you even call yourself a gastropub without a great burger? This Fairmount gem knows the answer. Chef Justin Koenig’s cheeseburger is almost as drippy as a cheesesteak (in a good way), thanks to a gooey slice of Birchrun Blue cheese, a slather of chipotle mayo, gingery house-made bread-and-butter pickles, and a heaping dose of caramelized onions emulsified in beef fat. Then there’s the burger itself: a 6-ounce beef patty from Happy Valley Meat Co. that’s grilled to order, then nestled on a tiny bed of arugula. It all gets stuffed into a Merzbacher’s sweet potato bun that you should eat judiciously — you’ll want a little left over to mop up all the juicy goodness. Thick-cut fries are one option, but our choice of side is Bad Brother’s insanely cheesy Caesar salad. — Jenn Ladd

You don’t have to order the signature $350 “meat trough” to get the message that Butcher Bar is a carnivore’s paradise. All you need is its $18 burger. The Royale with cheese, an ode to Pulp Fiction's dream burger, is a dauntingly tall stack of meats on a bun. It's also the best Big Mac revamp I've unhinged my jaws for in a while: two quarter-pound Pat LaFrieda beef patties, still juicy from the open-fired grill, layered on a butter-toasted Martin's roll with finely shaved pickles, lettuce, onions, and a blush-pink special sauce that mingles with a gush of burger juices trickling down the sides. A recent visit proved that magic has held steady since it opened nearly a decade ago. – Craig LaBan

Pasta lovers may be coming to this tony boutique hotel in Fishtown for the Sardinian pastas at Bastia. I’m just as happy to keep strolling through the lobby to Caletta, the cocktail bar tucked in back by the patio pool, where one of Philly’s best new burgers calls me in all its tallow-basted glory. Chef Tyler Akin lends this hearty $24 patty of ground short rib and brisket a decidedly Italian flourish with balsamic aioli and tapenade. But that olive, pepper, and caper relish is more than a chic accessory — it activates all the earthiness of the dry-aged funk blended into the meat, which is further bolstered by a hunk of dry-aged fat used to baste the burger in the pan before it’s covered with fontina and placed onto a pillowy brioche bun with caramelized onions. – Craig LaBan

“Less is more” has always been the mantra at Charlie’s Hamburgers, the Delco throwback to slider comfort that dates to 1935. A series of relocations over its history have not dimmed its appeal. Yes, its most recent move, six years ago, to a generic Folsom strip mall erased any traces of nostalgic ambiance. But Charlie’s pretty little patties have transcended it all, lovingly roasted by veteran cooks to order in doubles, loosely packed and almost crumbing at the edges inside the softness of griddle-crisped buns. They come in simple signature combos where the seemingly smallest variations can completely change the character of the burger. Raw onions and bright yellow mustard give the Bunny a buoyant tang, while caramelized onions, ketchup, and pickles, along with melted American cheese, foster an overall sweeter umami profile on Charlie’s Special. Double your patties with a smoky bacon crispy and you’ve got the Peg. All of them are under $6 a piece, which is pretty much a miracle for the magnitude of satisfaction they bring. – Craig LaBan

Cornerstone’s farmhouse burger is rich, indulgent, and particularly satisfying to gaze upon: The patty precisely fits the edges of the buttery brioche bun in the neatest burger stack imaginable. The exact recipe for its house blend of locally raised beef is fiercely protected by the staff, but it’s served with melted two year old English Barber’s Reserve cheddar that bubbles with crispy edges over slow-cooked, jammy onions, crisp romaine, and a fresh slice of tomato. Get it with Cornerstone’s excellent shoestring fries or a side garden salad (included in the $23 price tag); add a fried egg ($3) for even more richness, if you can bear it. — Kiki Aranita

Ember and Ash, once a study in blood, offal, and smoke, is now officially a “gastropub with global flavors,” which basically requires a declaration of intent in the form of a burger ($24). The live-fire cooking, beautifully applied to standout dishes like the whole beef shin, remains. Both shin and fire are put to work in the burger: The squat patty is flame-grilled in the hearth, then topped with Gruyere and extremely jammy onions that have been doused with the beef shin jus. On a recent visit, the seeded bun admirably retained its integrity for the entire lifespan of the sandwich, while the tangy slather of dijonnaise provided some much-appreciated contrast. The included shoestring fries are executed in classic fast-food style. — Matt Buchanan

Fountain Porter’s cheeseburger is Philadelphia legend for two reasons: its price — a nearly unthinkable $6, just a buck more than it was a decade ago — and its compact simplicity. The squat, well-salted patty wears a coat of melted American cheese and rides atop a slice of tomato and a wisp of lettuce, bookended by a potato roll and accompanied by two bread-and-butter pickle chips on the side. It’s not messy, it fits neatly in your palm, and it goes beautifully with the bar’s tawny French fries ($4, ask for vinegar). Add to this combo any selection from Fountain Porter’s meticulously curated beer and wine list and you’re pretty much guaranteed to fall in love here. — Jenn Ladd

The Good King Tavern is how one imagines a charming neighborhood bar, except it’s actually as good as it is in your imagination. The South Philly tavern by way of southern France offers a suitably Francofied burger with creamy, funky raclette that drips enticingly onto its two smash burger patties. It’s served on a smooth Metropolitan Bakery bun that feels positively old school in a sea of sesame and brioche burger envelopes. A perfunctory lettuce leaf and a generous smear of what’s listed as “special sauce” on the menu — a blend of cornichon brine, chopped cornichons, smoked mushrooms, and garlic aioli — makes it feel almost like made-from-scratch Le Big Mac. — Kiki Aranita

Yehuda Sichel didn’t intend to make burgers at his cheffy Rittenhouse sandwich shop. Then a snow day in 2021 delayed his usual delivery. He improvised by grinding fresh brisket into burger meat, and Huda has been a low-key haven for stand-out smash burgers ever since. Using a flavorful brisket-hanger blend sourced from DeBragga Meats, Huda’s 5-ouncers are smashed — but not too smashed — so they stay juicy. The smoky sweetness of dried urfa biber peppers lends the seasoning a subtle Mediterranean accent, while house-baked milk buns further elevate the sandwich. That milk bun advantage is even keener with Huda’s Patty Melt, as an extra butter-toasted bun slides in between two patties with onions cooked down in tallow. I might have quibbled with the lack of rye flavor in the mix to complete the classic Patty Melt paradigm (a dying art!) but I was far too busy devouring the whole thing. — Craig LaBan

Last year’s “it” burger — the Ramly — became a major draw for the long awaited comeback of Ange Branca’s much-loved Malaysian restaurant, Saté Kampar, which had closed during the pandemic. The successful relaunch of Kampar 2.0 in Queen Village took an unfortunate hit in February when a fire closed Branca’s restaurant again, although hopefully temporarily. When it eventually reopens, I’ll be one of the first in line at Kampar’s “Kongsi” bar for the city’s most distinctive burger. The Ramly is a reference to the Malaysian halal food cart favorite that wraps two patties with shaved cabbage and sambal mayo inside a sheer omelette that contains all the sauce. Pair it with a banana shrub-powered Karbonat spritz and thick-cut chips drizzled in Chinese curry for the complete experience. — Craig LaBan

Chef Randy Rucker likes to say his double-decker monument to burgerdom, the Mother Rucker, is a metaphor to show that River Twice doesn’t take itself too seriously. There is an undeniable sense of humor in following a precious modernist tasting menu of tuna with kumquats and swordfish with pumpkinseed mole with an add-on bonus of what is arguably the most irresistibly indulgent burger in Philly. But when you take a bite, the impact of each layer and how it’s designed to trigger a surge of pleasure is clear evidence of an incredibly serious kitchen. From the pair of quarter-pounder patties browned for maximum Maillard effect to the “umami rich” mayo, house-pickled onions, sesame-speckled milk bun from the Lost Bread Co. and “fromage Américain” (a.k.a. Cooper Sharp), this is a calculated ambush. Ironically, the Mother Rucker is one aspect of this free-wheeling culinary atelier that never really changes — except for its availability. It’s currently a Monday special to lure crowds on a typically slow night, available for $23 as an add-on to the $75 tasting menu, which might make it Philly’s first $99 burger. But not quite: Lucky walk-ins can order it a la carte Mondays, too, provided there are some left. – Craig LaBan

Even in the old days, when Spot was a bright yellow food cart on Drexel’s campus, Josh Kim’s mobile griddle game stood out because he ground his own beef. That’s still the case in the Brewerytown brick-and-mortar storefront where Spot has been an anchor for that neighborhood's ongoing revival since 2016. I’m often tempted by one of the many more involved topping riffs Kim brings to the juicy third-pound patties of fresh-ground sirloin — the BBQ sauce, ranch, and raw jalapeño spice of the “Rodeo,” or the Swiss, onions, and house steak sauce of the Ponderosa, which sits atop a raft of fries inside its puffy brioche bun. Kim also happens to make an impressively juicy fresh ground chicken burger. Ultimately, at my most recent visit, the signature “SpOt” beef burger was the clear favorite, a pile-it-on symphony of creamy red cabbage slaw with crunchy bacon, sharp cheddar, and snappy pickles to balance it out. – Craig LaBan

This trailblazing Northern Liberties tavern launched the gastropub craze in Philly a quarter century ago — and was arguably the first in the States. Its locavore dedication to sourcing beers from within a 100-mile radius also applies to its food menu, which raised the bar for craft and creativity in the genre. The Tap’s latest chef, Robert West, has carried that tradition on admirably, and he’s given special attention to the signature Standard burger. This 7-ounce patty of prime-grade Pennsylvania beef is a picture of fat burger perfection, char-grilled to a crusty exterior with uniform mid-rare pink inside (properly rested before being served!). It’s layered with house pickles, tender bibb lettuce, and a molten layer of cheddar on a pretzelized milk bun from Lost Bread — adding yet more Pennsylvania flair. In a world now dominated by smash patties, this plump beauty has once again become a standard-setter for Philly and beyond. — Craig LaBan

Plan your Wednesday around this Fishtown gem’s weekly burger night (4:30 p.m. till sell out — and they do sell out). Chef-owner Chad Todd serves up a handful of excellent burger variants, each anchored by a well-seasoned Gauker Farms beef patty (or two), flattened and frizzled till deep brown and crispy. The meat sprawls several inches past its sweet potato buns, like a smash burger on steroids. The finest choice here may be the pub burger, lacquered with so much sweet bone marrow butter it pools in the sandwich’s paper tray (sop as much up as your Merzbacher bun can take). The butter’s laced with just enough blue cheese to add a whiff of pungency that’ll make you stop and savor this puppy before you wolf it down completely. Add a side of frizzy onions and a milkshake (made with Fiore gelato) to round out the meal. — Jenn Ladd

There’s a plethora of burgers on the menu at this seasonally driven strip-mall star in Cherry Hill, including a feta-laden lamb burger and a house-made veggie take. The real Solomon’s judgment is between the Colonial burger and the Industrial burger. Both feature 6-ounce patties made from brisket-enriched blends of Creekstone Farms beef and served on Merzbacher’s sweet potato buns (evidently the region’s choicest bun). The Industrial is topped with red onion jam and yellow Cabot cheddar, whereas the Colonial comes with crunchy slabs of Nueske’s smoked bacon, sharp white Cabot cheddar, and caramelized onions for a couple bucks extra. It’s a tough call, but what tips it to the side of the Colonial is the tangy malt mayo — half-mayonnaise, half-whipped cream cheese that’s spiked with malt vinegar and Espelette pepper, reports chef and co-owner Josh Lawler. It makes a great condiment for Farm & Fisherman’s hand-cut fries, but you might be equally tempted to dip your burger, too. — Jenn Ladd

This technicolor bar is worth a visit just to mull its intriguing design, but don’t think twice about ordering its signature burger — a twice-smashed 5-ounce patty that’s topped with yellow American cheese and sandwiched in a potato bun that’s slicked with Thousand Island-style sauce. Sour pickles and onion add a hint of tang and sharpness. It all reads like a well-executed ode to a fast-food burger; it can go down just as quick, but it’s way more satisfying. At happy hour, 4-6 p.m. Tuesday through Friday, it sells for just $10. Pair it with a local draft beer, a vodka soda (Two Robbers is out of the hard seltzer game and onto canned cocktails now), or one of the bar’s specialty cocktails, which are often as interesting as Two Robbers’ only-in-Fishtown interior. — Jenn Ladd