inches from the flames, flipping hundreds of burgers a day.
For some reason, for the first time in all of my burger exploits I did not order the burger suggested by my host. A burger at Charcoal Pit comes in two sizes, a thick half-pounder and a thinner quarter-pounder. He said to get the big one; I opted for the smaller. The thing about flame-grilling burgers is this—thicker burgers taste much better when cooked on an open flame because all of the moisture stays inside the burger. Thin patties have a hard time retaining that moisture. It’s much easier to cook a thin burger on a flattop griddle because the burger stays moist and tasty no matter what you do. I found myself eyeing a neighboring booth’s half-pound burger dripping with juices, cooked to temperature, and realized I should have listened to Frank.
The half-pound burger is served on a kaiser roll and the quarter pounder comes on a seeded, toasted white bun. Seems as though someone was paying attention to burger physics when bun decisions were being made. The fresh Angus patties are delivered daily to Charcoal Pit from a local supplier. “We probably go through over a thousand pounds of meat a week,” Frank told me, “and it’s always fresh.”
Not only are the burgers fresh, other items on the menu are house made, like their crab cakes, soups, and coleslaw. The first time I visited Charcoal Pit I found Frank and another employee in the kitchen straining what looked to be about 10 gallons of homemade vegetable beef soup. “We’re hands-on here,” Frank said as he hoisted the steaming vat of soup.
Outside of burgers, Charcoal Pit is ice cream nirvana. A sign out front proclaims simply, ICE CREAM CREATIONS and they are not kidding. The menu is heavy on ice cream and there is a sundae named after each of the nine local high schools. The thick, hand-dipped milkshakes are enormous and not to be missed.
Every year as the local high schools are letting out for the summer, Charcoal Pit can count on one thing—the prom. “It’s total chaos in here,” manager Joseph Grabowski told me, “They’re really into the Kitchen Sink.” For a minute I imagined a burger with enough embellishment to fill a sink, but Joe explained, “It’s 20 scoops of ice cream, whipped cream, nuts, etc., and two bananas.” Whoa.
6
DISTRICT OF COLUMBIA
BEN’S CHILI BOWL
1213 U ST NW | WASHINGTON, DC 20009
202-667-0909 | WWW.BENSCHILIBOWL.COM
MON–THU 6 AM–2 AM | FRI 6 AM–4 AM
SAT 7 AM–4 AM | SUN 11 AM–11 PM
“M ost people don’t want to eat with a lot of loud music. It’s just part of our culture,” a regular for four decades named Marshall Brown told me as we sat at the counter of this 50-year-old Washington, DC, landmark chili restaurant. Marshall was referring to the sounds of Bob Marley and Luther Vandross that were oozing out of the jukebox, not necessarily loud, but definitely present. One time when I was enjoying a breakfast chili cheeseburger, the guy next to me at the counter was eating his eggs, so consumed by the music that he started dancing in his seat. I’m positive that moving to the music made the food taste that much better.
Ben’s was opened in 1958 by Ben and Virginia Ali in a former silent movie theater known as the Minnehaha. Ben, who had emigrated from Trinidad, met his wife at the bank just down the street. “She was a bank teller,” the couple’s son Nizam told me. Ben passed away in 2009 and Virginia has retired, but two of their sons, Nizam and Kamal, run the restaurant today.
Ben’s is known for its tasty chili that gloriously adorns hot dogs, half smokes, and hamburgers. The bright, airy, neighborhood restaurant, with its incredibly colorful façade, also serves a memorable breakfast, but many return from all corners of the country for their chili dogs and burgers. Over the years it also became known for the role it has played in Black American history. Ben’s fed many celebrities performing at the clubs along
For some reason, for the first time in all of my burger exploits I did not order the burger suggested by my host. A burger at Charcoal Pit comes in two sizes, a thick half-pounder and a thinner quarter-pounder. He said to get the big one; I opted for the smaller. The thing about flame-grilling burgers is this—thicker burgers taste much better when cooked on an open flame because all of the moisture stays inside the burger. Thin patties have a hard time retaining that moisture. It’s much easier to cook a thin burger on a flattop griddle because the burger stays moist and tasty no matter what you do. I found myself eyeing a neighboring booth’s half-pound burger dripping with juices, cooked to temperature, and realized I should have listened to Frank.
The half-pound burger is served on a kaiser roll and the quarter pounder comes on a seeded, toasted white bun. Seems as though someone was paying attention to burger physics when bun decisions were being made. The fresh Angus patties are delivered daily to Charcoal Pit from a local supplier. “We probably go through over a thousand pounds of meat a week,” Frank told me, “and it’s always fresh.”
Not only are the burgers fresh, other items on the menu are house made, like their crab cakes, soups, and coleslaw. The first time I visited Charcoal Pit I found Frank and another employee in the kitchen straining what looked to be about 10 gallons of homemade vegetable beef soup. “We’re hands-on here,” Frank said as he hoisted the steaming vat of soup.
Outside of burgers, Charcoal Pit is ice cream nirvana. A sign out front proclaims simply, ICE CREAM CREATIONS and they are not kidding. The menu is heavy on ice cream and there is a sundae named after each of the nine local high schools. The thick, hand-dipped milkshakes are enormous and not to be missed.
Every year as the local high schools are letting out for the summer, Charcoal Pit can count on one thing—the prom. “It’s total chaos in here,” manager Joseph Grabowski told me, “They’re really into the Kitchen Sink.” For a minute I imagined a burger with enough embellishment to fill a sink, but Joe explained, “It’s 20 scoops of ice cream, whipped cream, nuts, etc., and two bananas.” Whoa.
6
DISTRICT OF COLUMBIA
BEN’S CHILI BOWL
1213 U ST NW | WASHINGTON, DC 20009
202-667-0909 | WWW.BENSCHILIBOWL.COM
MON–THU 6 AM–2 AM | FRI 6 AM–4 AM
SAT 7 AM–4 AM | SUN 11 AM–11 PM
“M ost people don’t want to eat with a lot of loud music. It’s just part of our culture,” a regular for four decades named Marshall Brown told me as we sat at the counter of this 50-year-old Washington, DC, landmark chili restaurant. Marshall was referring to the sounds of Bob Marley and Luther Vandross that were oozing out of the jukebox, not necessarily loud, but definitely present. One time when I was enjoying a breakfast chili cheeseburger, the guy next to me at the counter was eating his eggs, so consumed by the music that he started dancing in his seat. I’m positive that moving to the music made the food taste that much better.
Ben’s was opened in 1958 by Ben and Virginia Ali in a former silent movie theater known as the Minnehaha. Ben, who had emigrated from Trinidad, met his wife at the bank just down the street. “She was a bank teller,” the couple’s son Nizam told me. Ben passed away in 2009 and Virginia has retired, but two of their sons, Nizam and Kamal, run the restaurant today.
Ben’s is known for its tasty chili that gloriously adorns hot dogs, half smokes, and hamburgers. The bright, airy, neighborhood restaurant, with its incredibly colorful façade, also serves a memorable breakfast, but many return from all corners of the country for their chili dogs and burgers. Over the years it also became known for the role it has played in Black American history. Ben’s fed many celebrities performing at the clubs along
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