Best Budget Bites: $5.80 Cheeseburger From Lions Tap

There's one thing on the menu. Don't overthink it.

10:03 AM CDT on September 19, 2024

Jay Boller|

DISCLAIMER: This is the $10.80 double cheeseburger, which—feel free to fight us here—we’re saying still falls within the sub-$10 BBB realm, though we’re headlining the price of the $5.80 single.

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The cost of things these days? Far too expensive! Inflation, supply chain, giddy price gouging from proprietors large and small—the boring factors are too numerous to count. To protect our readers, Racket launched the Best Budget Bites series, where we’ll showcase a toothsome, wallet-friendly food item that’ll actually fill you up for less than $10. Have a nomination? Hit us up: tips@racketmn.com.

What: Cheeseburger
Where: Lions Tap, 16180 Flying Cloud Dr., Eden Prairie
Cost: $5.80
Availability: 11 a.m.-7 p.m.

Overcooked. Under-seasoned. Previously frozen.

Those are the three demons a burger must slay to approach perfection and, sadly, most at the sub-$10 price point fail to do so. That's not the case at Lions Tap, a south metro burger institution that, we're happy to report, still deliciously executes the basics like it's 1984.

The history of Lions Tap dates back to 1933, when Severin II and Ernest Peterson began selling vegetables and, later, beer from 16180 Flying Cloud Dr. in Eden Prairie. The market became a gas station and, legend has it, a buzzing bootlegging and gambling destination. In 1958 Irene and Sears Lyons bought the place, renamed it after themselves (Lyons Tap), and began selling 25-cent hamburgers and 5-cent beers.

Bert and Bonnie Notermann took control in '77, tweaked the name, and introduced their secret spice blend, which isn't exactly a secret these days. Remodels and expansions would come in the ensuring decades, but Lions Tap still feels like an authentic (if slightly upscale) townie bar, steeped in decades of tradition and flat top grease.

These days, save for a some unsavory COVID-era crankiness, the Notermann family remains committed to delivering a hyper-streamlined menu of killer burgers that still draws lines—the place was hopping by 11:15 a.m. yesterday. Easy and obvious items like chicken and onion rings would only distract from the mission. Bert and Bonnie's son, Matt, knows what makes Lions Tap hum.

“We don’t like fancy, frilly stuff, and people appreciate that about us," he told Heavy Table in 2017, adding that his family has resisted expanding to multiple locations out of dedication to the family-like cast of staff and regulars in EP. "They know nothing’s changed, and they’ll get their favorite every time they come here. Why mess with it? It works."

Our Wednesday morning visit to Lions Tap coincided with the holiest of beefy holiday, National Cheeseburger Day. One waiter warned her coworkers that a rush might be incoming. "It's National Cheeseburger Day? That's awesome!" one of them responded. The zero-frills menu assures burger-heads they're in good hands: fresh patties assembled daily, each cooked to medium unless the diner incorrectly asks for additional griddle time. (Heavy Tables reports Lions Taps runs through 3,000 pounds of beef each week.)

My burger—double cheeseburger with grilled onions ("Our #1 Best Seller!")—arrived on a comically small paper plate that, teamed with seemingly dozens of tiny napkins, managed to keep me from making a total mess at the bar. Avid Best Budget Bites readers might be quibbling with the price tag ($10.80), one that doesn't quite make the de facto $10 threshold of the series; the single, enough burger to fill up most, is a steal at $5.80.

True to establishment's old-school approach, this ain't no trendy, highfalutin smash burger. It's a throwback that summons a plussed-up double QPC from McDonald's, albeit with slightly fatter patties. And, unlike at Mickey D's, that beef is cooked to pink perfection, crumbly and juicy with surplus proprietary spice blend. It's a greasy avalanche that strikes at all your carnivorous pleasure zones, the platonic burger ideal for those uninterested in the innovations and gimmicks of the past 40 years. The bun is a no-nonsense delivery vehicle; the gooey cheese is American, the only correct choice for burgers; the humble mound of fried onions exudes the smoky char of the experienced flat-top grill, which can be heard sizzling nonstop from the kitchen.

Expertly grilled to not-too-hot temps. Seasoned well and liberally. Never saw the inside of a freezer.

The formula might sound simple, but it takes true dedication to keep acing for this many years. Here's hoping for many more.