Helen, Help Me: On the Phenomenology of Cheeseburgers

"Honestly, I've never really considered pickle relish to be one of the hamburger's totemic toppings. Sliced pickle rounds, certainly; spears on the side, without a doubt. But relish, that finely chopped, neon-hued, marmalade-textured stuff? To me, that's a hot-dog thing-which I mention here not to issue judgment but rather to illustrate how distinct my own personal associations are from your own. Herein, I think, lies the answer to your real question, which is not actually about the sweetness of the relish."

"Regarding the substance of the burger itself, the same accoutrements that might show a slim, lacey-edged smash patty in its best light-a little slick of mustard, a few circles of raw onion, and a melty cap of American cheese, say-might be too flimsy against the brawny heft of a half-pound bar burger that can sustain degrees of sweetness, richness, and piquancy (your barbecue sauces, your secondary meats, your nontraditional cheeses) that would suffocate a smaller patty."

"But what you're really asking, I think, is what makes a burger great not as it's being eaten but as it lives on in memory. Or, more to the point, how can we know that our memories of happiness are true? I spend an inordinate portion of my professional life creeping around in my own psyche, untangling knots of nostalgia and pleasure and, god, so many emotions, not least"

Pickle relish is often perceived as a hot-dog topping rather than a hamburger topping, while sliced pickle rounds and spears suit burgers more naturally. Topping choices should relate to the patty's character: delicate smash patties benefit from mustard, raw onion, and American cheese, whereas half-pound bar burgers can sustain sweeter, richer additions like barbecue sauces and nontraditional cheeses. Sweet relish can compete with ketchup on smaller patties but can complement more robust burgers. The mood of the establishment, the time of day, and the eater's personal associations and nostalgia influence whether a combination feels right or memorable.

Read at The New Yorker