I'm A Former Line Cook. Here's What Your Burger Order Says About You

Ask any line cook, and they will certainly tell you that there are right and wrong orders. Yes, there is a problem with well-done steak. No, I will not whip up an off-menu creation for you even if you ask nicely. Yes, "The Bear" is right; working brunch is the worst.

We would never complain directly to a customer, of course — we're professionals, for goodness' sake! However, when you ask for something really ridiculous, there is also a 100% chance that the cooks are gossiping about it. A lot of that chatter is just good-natured banter and dark humor to pass the time, though there are some orders that will really put a line cook in a bad mood. And after making literally thousands of burgers while working the grill and fry, I've developed some strong opinions (read: unimpeachable truths) about the type of person you are, depending on what sort of burger modifications you ask for.

Perhaps there is someone out there that can actually make the case for those gold leaf-adorned, truffle aioli-topped, foie gras-stuffed monstrosities that somehow became fixtures at every fine dining establishment trying to get noticed in the 2010s. I, for one, am firmly opposed to these try-hard hamburgers. If you walk into a restaurant and order your burger cooked rare, I'm going to assume you're someone that would gladly spend your hard-earned cash on the world's most expensive burger.

A good burger patty is charred and browned on the outside and juicy on the inside. A rare burger is soft and cool in the center. It doesn't have the strength to stand up to the toppings and bun, and it has a tendency to fall apart when you take a bite. A burger is not a steak, and it's not meant to be cooked like one. When you ask for a rare patty, you're getting an unideal final product in an attempt to show off to your server. Medium-rare is acceptable, but true medium is my ideal. Even better, go someplace that's known for perfect crispy smash burgers and trade in a patty with a pink center for a double with frizzled edges, over-the-top browning, and lots of processed cheese.

Speaking of glorious, golden processed cheese, asking for extra on your burger is definitely in the category of line cook-approved orders. It is a simple request that's easy for the kitchen to do, and it shows that you are trying to have a good time without making anyone's life harder.

I respect it because if I'm making a burger for myself back there, I am most definitely slapping on an extra slice or two. If I'm going to scarf down a meal while standing over a trash can during a lull in service, it better be worth my while.

In my view, there's no downside to doubling up on the cheese. You get better adhesion between the patty, toppings, and bun and ample creaminess to balance out those big, savory, smoky flavors — this is especially true for char-grilled or bacon-topped burgers. Really, if this is the kind of burger you like, you see the beauty in the small things, like an extra-gooey cheese pull.

The opposite of the kind, fun-loving person that orders an extra cheesy burger is the human that asks for everything on the side. You are annoying. This order is such a hassle. Don't do it.

Sometimes folks make this request when they just don't want vegetables but are too embarrassed to admit it — I know this because I see the plate (with lettuce, tomato, and onion untouched) when the busser brings it back to the dishwashing station. If you have gotten to adulthood and just want meat and cheese on a bun, own your truth. Don't make me waste food that I prepped with my own two hands because you can't communicate directly.

Additionally, cooks don't just care about how your food tastes; they also want it to look nice. When you get every ingredient on the side, your plate will be full of undressed mounds of veggies, clusters of ramekins, and a naked patty — which is ugly. It also messes up the line cook's flow because it takes much longer to plate an everything-on-the-side burger and actually make it look presentable.

A burger needs a sauce. It just does. It's one of those cardinal truths, like murder is bad. I'll give a pass on the plain-and-dry burger for babies that are still getting used to solids, but even that's hardly an excuse for eating a meal that has nothing but meat and bread. If this is truly how you like to eat a burger, thank you for ordering it this way and not the aforementioned everything-on-the-side abomination. However, I am still going to judge you harshly for having such a sad, one-dimensional palate.

I worked at a bar with a large outdoor patio, and sometimes folks would take this one step further and get an unseasoned patty for their dog. For the bottom line of the restaurant, I suppose this is acceptable, but it's definitely one of those things the cooks always had a laugh about.

Even the juiciest patty needs some sauce, especially on a burger that has vegetables like lettuce, tomatoes, and onions. I really shouldn't have to say this, but undressed meat and unsalted raw veggies are bad, and if you want to slap an unseasoned, unsauced mound between two pieces of bread, there's no question that you are in the wrong.

Ultimately, I don't really care what sauce you put on a burger as long as it has something to grease the wheels. Whether that is good old mayonnaise, whatever special sauce the kitchen keeps on tap, any kind of mustard, Thousand Island dressing, blue cheese spread, ranch dressing, or Carolina barbecue sauce, it's there for a reason. I'll even take it one step further: This pains me to say, but I would even rather you put ketchup directly inside your burger than eat it with no condiments at all. I have no idea why anyone would choose to eat dry food, which is why I think you have bad taste if you order a burger sauce-free.

A burger follows a specific formula for a reason, and a bun is crucial to the overall experience. If you order a burger without one, the line cook dropping that patty is rolling their eyes ... hard. Now, this is not an indictment of anyone that can't eat a bun because of allergies or dietary restrictions. My concern is that rather than ordering a salad, rice-based dish, braised meat, grilled seafood, soup, or stew — many of which are already gluten-free or can easily be made that way — you chose to get a burger that isn't even really a burger.

If you are the type of person to order a burger with no bun, I am guessing you also make other debatable decisions. These questionable choices might include buying bottled water when tap water is free, opting for lean Texas-style BBQ brisket when fatty is the only real choice, or paying a premium for bone broth (also known as stock with better PR).

Ordering the burger as it is listed on the menu makes the lives of the cooks easier, especially when the kitchen is slammed. It also means that you respect the effort that went into designing the dish. A chef thought through exactly which condiments, fresh or pickled veggies, cheeses, and extras would make for the best combination. Any place that's worth its salt is being intentional even with items as commonplace as burgers, and your friendly neighborhood line cook takes pride in executing each dish well. While some modifications, add-ons, and omissions are par for the course, line cooks absolutely love it when you just order the burger as it comes.

If you're the type of person that trusts the process (and the professionals), you know that you don't need a bun filled with every burger topping imaginable to have a good meal. You have confidence that everything always works out in the end.