A big, messy, tasty burger... even before a big flavor injection

How good would a burger have to taste in order for it to be considered a work of art? Better than a double double? As good as a dry-aged ribeye? Or is it more important that the burger looks good? Maybe coat the patty in edible gold leaf and spatter condiments on it, Jackson Pollock style? These are the sort of questions you ask yourself when visiting a place called Art Burgers.

Technically the place is called Barrio Food Hub, the commercial kitchen complex in Barrio Logan that's home to an ever-revolving cast of ghost kitchens. They're mostly set up to work with delivery services, but the hub offers digital ordering kiosks and outdoor seating for anyone who wants to show up unannounced to order rice bowls, burritos, sushi, hot chicken—whatever happens to be offered at the moment.

Ghost kitchens and outdoor seating in Barrio Logan

I count at least 40 brands doing business there currently, though given the nature of ghost kitchens, there could be just eight working kitchens in there operating five virtual restaurants apiece. Or five kitchens operating eight restaurants. Or even one really, really busy chef. With apologies to a brand dubbed F#ck Carbs, most of these businesses aren't very high concept.

On the other hands, Art Burgers would almost have to be a high concept, even if that concept isn't immediately clear. Yes, the eatery gives its burgers names such as the Van Gogh burger, and the Frida Kahlo. But that the Van Gogh is topped with corned beef doesn't offer anything especially creative. The Frida burger goes a little farther—it's topped with jalapeños, elote, and Doritos—but I'd argue corn and corn chips on a burger falls short of being artful. Mind-blowing to a stoner maybe.

One of the brands at Barrio Food Hub

What really caught my attention about Art Burgers isn't what they put on their burgers, but in them. A couple of these burgers are served with a small plastic syringe filled with some kind of special sauce, to inject into the burger patty for extra flavor.

It's worth mentioning these are huge, half-pound burgers, which range in price from $17 to $22, usually indicative of how involved the toppings get. For $17 you get the Da Vinci, fairly typical with lettuce, tomatoes, and onions. For $18. you get the Michelangelo, which is the Da Vinci with cheese. An interesting selection of cheeses, actually: cheddar, provolone, gouda, goat cheese, or white American.

A syringe filled with extra juice, and instructions on how to use it

However, it's these two, standard-bearing burgers that come with the injectable juice. Thanks to the Food Hub's anonymous nature, there was no one around I could ask about this sauce. It tasted to me like a savory solution involving tomato and shallots, or something along those lines. Just past the ordering kiosks, in the lobby of the building, is a bank of electronic lockers, where you may retrieve your food without need for any artless human interaction.

No need to ask what to do with the syringe, though. My order came with illustrated instructions suggesting I inject the stuff into five points on my burger patty prior to eating.

I searched around to see whether injecting a burger this way is already a thing. I know a number of BBQ enthusiasts inject saline solutions into meat to create sort of an instant marinade, but this is done before the meat is cooked. The closest I could find to this scenario were reports of a burger joint in Dubai that offers syringes of hot, liquid cheese to inject into the cooked burger patties.

So whether or not it's overtly artsy, it does at least seem original, and operating under the pretense it will make the burger extra juicy. And my burger did turn out juicy. Then again, it's a thick, 8-ounce patty, so I believe it was juicy to begin with. And the juiced-up burger was definitely flavorful, though it also happened to be smothered in the house sauce, which (again I could be mistaken) struck me as a blend of ketchup, mayo, mustard, and steak sauce.

Ultimately, what I found most artful was the burger presentation. The Art Burger brand was seared into the brioche bun. The burger came served inside a square cardboard box, wrapped in something of an origami fold of foil paper, and atop a round cardboard tray. Quite elaborate packaging for what is by definition a takeout burger. Add the cost of a syringe, and we can assume the true cost of a burger is in the eye of the beholder.