It’s been two years since I raved about Engine No. 9 and chef-owner Jason Esposito’s obsession with elevating burgers and hot dogs to fine-dining standards. Though there are other excellent burgers (and dogs) around the area, most are offered in traditional ways without the flights of culinary imagination that mark No. 9 — and now at its splendid sibling, Engine Rose.
Just a little farther west, about five minutes down Central Avenue from No. 9, Engine Rose is a casual place, a shiny Airstream trailer surrounded by a patio of picnic tables and umbrellas. While the eats are in the same vein as Esposito’s flagship, this Engine has its own not-so-loco motives.
We begin with pork “wings.” They’re tiny tender porcine shanks that come fried crispy, glazed and served with yummy caramelized cinnamon apples. Next appears a ginormous bowl of Canadian poutine with a spicy Cajun twist. The absolutely huge portion of battered fries is overflowing with chunky cheese curds, New Orleans-style debris gravy, hot sauce and slivered green onions. Our eyes are rolling back into our heads and we, zombie-like, mutter a “must stop” mantra, lest we end up unable to eat our entrees and accompanying sides.
The Sorry Charlie “lite” burger features seared ahi tuna that is most decidedly not StarKist, featuring plenty of zing and crunch from wasabi, ginger, Asian slaw and a large mound of avocado pulp, topped with a generous handful of shiny edamame. Like the entrees that follow, it’s a bit sloppy. For me, taste tops all, but some at my table are overwhelmed. The food is not designed for the fastidious patron. In fact, these sandwiches demand that diners get down and dirty.
Case in point is the delicious Pepper Bacon Burger, which takes 8 ounces of juicy prime Angus beef and then layers on peppercorn bacon, caramelized onions, sautéed mushrooms, a little romaine, Brie and a tasty white truffle aioli. It is luscious, but strikes one at my table as too much. I, on the other hand, love the layers of flavor. Just because it can't be eaten neatly does not earn food a demerit. In fact, my rule is that as long as you don’t need to be hosed off, sloppiness is largely a virtue in this situation. You’re outside with a cold adult beverage, and there’s something primal about the mess. It makes me want to paint a cave.
The pork belly grilled cheese is striking for its height. The super-thick slices of golden bread stand tall on the plate and are stuffed to the gills with both creamy white and yellow cheddar. This alone would be a wonderful sandwich, but the lusciousness provided by a fried egg with oozing yolk and seared pork belly pushes the envelope. However, they’re not done yet. There’s also heat and savory notes from crisp jalapeño bacon, plus some fried mac and cheese, well, just because they can. It’s a wonderful grilled cheese bursting with all things bright and beautiful.
Let us not forget the superior hot dog offerings that start with 9-inch, 100 percent Vienna beef franks on toasted buns. My choice is topped with enormous pieces of tangy, warm kimchi, Korean soul food. The pickled cabbage leaves are torn rather than shredded, and a hot mustard sauce ties it all together. This is a dog worthy of a pedigree.
If you dream of classic desserts, there are surprising twists on two childhood favorites. Instead of the OMG-are-you-going-to-eat-that-whole-thing funnel cake, Engine Rose takes the same batter and serves long, thin funnel cake “fries” dusted with powdered sugar. They share the popular hot-from-the-grease flavor, yet are much more manageable. I enjoy them plain, but chocolate and triple berry dipping sauces are nice additions.
Then, s’mores arrive like a geology lesson in a tall Mason jar. Strata of crushed graham crackers, marshmallow cream and chocolate are layered to the brim. It’s all finished with whole marshmallows and squares of chocolate that have been torched. The warm melting texture and scorched surface bring the table smells and tastes of the campfire. My guests are ooohing and aaahing like scouts in the woods.
And that’s a good thing.
Jon Palmer Claridge dines anonymously when reviewing. Check out the explanation of his rating system.
This article appears in Jul 2-8, 2015.