Stuffed burger is Minnesota’s food ambassador

MINNEAPOLIS — “That is one Juicy Lucy!”

So said the rhyming-prone guy — surely he was brandishing a thick, vowel-heavy Minnesota accent — who bit into the first cheese-filled patty of the burger that was later christened (and spelled) the Jucy Lucy.

That’s the folk legend, anyway.

The story of Minnesota’s contribution to the annals of American burger history can be culled from the Star Tribune’s archives.

And yes, the spelling fluctuates between “Jucy” and “Juicy.” The former is the proper Matt’s Bar verbiage, the south Minneapolis corner hangout where the burger is said to have been born (the misspelling wasn’t intentional, someone forgot the “i” and the error stuck), the latter is everywhere else.

The Taste section’s first Jucy/Juicy Lucy citation dates to July 9, 1975.

“Thanks to a tip from a faithful Taste reader, I have found the best hamburger in the Twin Cities, bar none,” wrote Taste editor Peggy Katalinich, in one of the section’s first restaurant reviews. “It’s the Juicy (sic) Lucy at Matt’s Bar, 35th and Cedar Av. S. For $1.35, you get a thick, juicy hamburger, stuffed with cheese, served with French fries.”

Three years later, writer Karin Winegar chimed in on the Jucy Lucy in a feature on the city’s then-plentiful neighborhood corner bars.

“Its customers claim Matt’s is the home of ‘Juicy (sic) Lucys,’ a south Minneapolis delicacy ($1.80) consisting of two hamburger patties crowned with fried onions and embracing a stratum of cheese,” she wrote. “They have been consumed at Matt’s Bar for 20 years.”

For a 1980 Twin Cities burger roundup, restaurant critic Jeremy Iggers crowned Matt’s Jucy Lucy as the region’s second-best, coming in just behind the cheeseburger at Shortstop Tavern in Coon Rapids.

Perhaps no one in the newspaper’s history embraced the Jucy/Juicy Lucy with the eloquence and passion of Dick Youngblood, a staple in the newspaper’s business section. Reading his observations of the cheese-stuffed burger all these years later, it’s apparent that the longtime columnist and editor could have had a career in food writing.

“Ah, the Jucy Lucy: two hamburger patties crimped around a slab of American cheese, fried to succulent perfection and enveloped in fried onions, the Jucy Lucy is a $2.60 delicacy (the 2019 price is $7.75) to be savored, although, in truth, it’s impossible not to savor it for several hours after eating one,” he wrote in 1984. “It’s not a burger for the weak of spirit. Its molten innards will scar the unwary neophyte — or even the overanxious veteran who ought to know better than to launch the first attack with wide-mouthed exuberance.”

Youngblood, who referred to the Jucy Lucy as “a misspelled, vaguely risque name,” also noted that while other neighborhood taverns were calling it quits, Matt’s continued to prosper. There was one big cheese-stuffed reason.

“Matt’s Bar, a dark, 24-by-55-foot cavern into which 78 famished patrons can be jammed on a busy day, started out in 1954 as a run-of-the-mill 3.2 beer joint with a 2-foot-wide grill as an adjunct at one end of the bar,” he wrote in 1984. “Today, it’s a 2-foot-wide grill with a 3.2 beer license as the adjunct.”

“There’s no doubt about it,” owner Matt Bristol told Youngblood. “If it weren’t for the Jucy Lucy, I’d be out of business today.'”

Bristol’s daughter Cheryl Bristol bought the place in 1990 and ran it with her father for eight years, until selling to current owners Scott and Kathy Nelson.

Today, the Jucy Lucy remains as delicious — and as popular — as ever.

“Eighty percent of our sales are from food, and 85 percent of those sales are the Jucy Lucy,” said Matt’s Bar co-general manager Paul Rees. “We get a lot of tourists coming in, because the Jucy Lucy has become Minnesota’s Philly cheesesteak or Chicago dog. People from all over want to come in and sample it.”

It should also be said that Jucy/Juicy Lucy is a beloved staple of several other bars, including the 5-8 Club. The Blue Door Pub has dubbed its take on the cheese-stuffed burger the “Blucy.”

No matter the source — or the spelling — here’s a measure of how the Jucy/Juicy Lucy has embedded itself into the American burger landscape: On the day that Matt Bristol died in 2014, President Barack Obama was having lunch at Matt’s.

He ordered a Jucy Lucy, of course.

Make-at-home Juicy Lucys

Makes 4 burgers.

Note: Adapted from a 2012 Taste story by Meredith Deeds. Instead of American cheese, substitute 4 ounces grated Cheddar, pepper Jack or crumbled blue cheese.

1 pound ground beef

4 slices American (2 percent) cheese

1 teaspoon olive oil

½ teaspoon salt

¼ teaspoon freshly ground black pepper

4 hamburger buns, sliced in half

Dill pickle slices

Fried onions, optional

Condiments such as ketchup and mustard

Divide the ground beef into 8 pieces of equal size, and form into balls. Press each ball into a thin patty. Cut or fold each slice of cheese into quarters. Stack and place cheese in the center of 4 patties. Place another patty on top and pinch around the edges until the beef is well sealed. Repeat with remaining patties.

Preheat oven broiler.

Heat the oil in a large skillet over medium-high heat. Place the patties in the skillet and cook for 5 minutes per side, lightly seasoning each side with the salt and pepper. Don’t press down on the patties or the cheese will ooze out.

Meanwhile, place the bun halves, cut side up, on a large baking sheet. Place 6 inches away from the broiler and cook until buns are lightly toasted, about 30 to 60 seconds. Remove from broiler.

Place the cooked patties on the bottom half of buns. Top patties with dill pickles (and, if you choose, fried onions) and condiments of your choice, and the top half of the bun.