The burger has many connotations. It is a culture, an icon, a cliché, even a slur. Much maligned as junk food and perhaps as abused as the glorious biryani.

Just like a plateful of yellow and white rice with a stringy chicken leg playing footsie with a broken piece of potato trying to break ice with an odd assortment of whole spices sadly qualifies as biryani, a rubbery greasy patty shoved in a dried-up bun, slathered with ketchup and mayo and a dead piece of lettuce pretends to be a burger — both being a purist’s nightmare.

Biryani and burgers may look simple but actually require clever cooking techniques and specific ingredients to produce the perfect look, taste, texture and smell.

What might have transpired in the Mughal kitchens may have died several deaths, as food vendors on the street make a quick buck by all kinds of bastardised versions of biryani for hungry lunchtime crowds at affordable price points. Likewise, the burger born at the Spinzer (Karachi) in the 1970s was romanced, worshipped, cloned, destroyed and devolved — and recently has been reincarnated. This happening in a nation confused about the ‘ham’ content of a hamburger, is quite incredible. (For the very curious among us, ‘Hamburger’ comes from Hamburger steak; beef grilled in the style of the town of Hamburg, introduced to the US by German immigrants).

Burger joints are mushrooming in malls, commercial areas and food streets. The newest kids on the block being the Gourmet Burger Company, the Burger Shack, Big Thick Burgers, MYOB (Make your own burger), Fat Burger, Burger King and many more.

From humble beginnings, the bun-kabab-gone-places-Tipu-burger, the good-old Mr Burger, modest burgers on wheels and fancy burgers on every restaurant and coffee shop menu; suddenly it’s nothing less than an all-out burger invasion. God help the bun-kababs!

Out of all these, which one actually delivers the magical burger moment? The divine moment of truth that arrives when you grab a burger. It has to be held with both hands, for if you can hold it with one, it is just not big enough and who said size doesn’t matter? The thick, juicy patty peeks out at you squished under a heavy load of caramelised onions, cheese, pickles and the sludge of smoky sauce running into ketchup that runs into mayo running into mustard. As you bite, the burger gives but does not crumble or break into two, nor does it threaten to. A burger that cannot withstand a bite or two without disintegrating has no self respect. It should elegantly sit on the plate, calmly waiting to be bitten again. A good burger follows the traits of a masochist in the Victorian era — it suffers in silence.

Eating a burger is a cosy affair. There is an intimacy involved in eating food while holding it in your hand, which you don’t get from the cold steel of a knife and fork or even a wooden pair of chopsticks. It is said that hand-held food rights our wrongs, turning a bad world briefly good.

Whether it is beef or chicken, crispy batter-fried (like the hundred wanna-be Zingers out there) or grilled, spicy or cheesy, smoky or Tex-Mex; a thick, tender, juicy patty is the heart of the burger. Nigel Slater prefers hand-chopped chuck steak or topside (yes it needs a bit of fat). Delia Smith advocates cooking it until drops of blood appear on the surface. One thing to beware of is that salt draws out fluid content and could dry up the patty, and an overcooked, dry patty is tantamount to burger-murder. Nigel Slater advises using salt sparingly beforehand, if you can’t bear the thought of an unseasoned burger. A matter of personal preference, generally a thickness of 2cm should ensure a tender burger on the inside and lightly charred on the outside. A ridged griddle or liquid smoke adds more flavour.

Matching the size of the bun to the patty is either state-of-the-art science or just pot luck. No one likes a forlorn little patty hiding under sad, aging lettuce, as though ashamed of its diminutive size. The fact is that as long as the texture is good, a bland patty can be dressed up. One can be adventurous with onions and mushrooms fried until softened, crispy gherkins, or a patty topped with flavourful sauces; but there is little you can do to cover up for stale, crumbly bread.

The burger bun must have three qualities. Fresh, fresh and fresh. There is no compromise on that. Give us a few fries, charge us Rs600 for the burger, but don’t give us stale bread.

Us Pakistanis, we love burgers. In frugal times we are happy with the basic that we can buy for a hundred something but promise us the ‘moment of truth’ and we are ready to dish out Rs600 plus for the upmarket, high-end burger. America’s quintessential comfort food has become ours too.