Best Budget Bites: $8.75 Olive Burger From Sandy’s Tavern

Quality-wise, did the 'world famous' menu item survive a semi-recent ownership transfer?

1:42 PM CST on January 22, 2025

Nice.

|Jay Boller

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

What: Olive burger
Where: Sandy's Tavern, 6612 Penn Ave. S., Richfield
Cost: $8.75
Availability: 11 a.m.-11 p.m. Mon.-Thu.; 11 a.m.-midnight Fri. & Sat.; 11 a.m.-10:30 p.m. Sun.

In 2019, worry gripped the south metro dive-bar community. Sandy's Tavern, a Richfield beer/burger institution since 1933, had been purchased by restaurateur Matty O'Reilly, whose previous spots (Bar Brigade, Republic) sought to elevate their menus—a concept true dive-heads know to fear.

Mercifully, O'Reilly & Co. kept Sandy's almost exactly the same, save for some minor cosmetic updates and a slight branding refresh. The bulky pool table is gone; a nice patio now wraps around the homey Penn Avenue tavern, where credit cards are now accepted. Stepping inside still feels like stepping back to the '80s, and the no-nonsense bar food still rocks.

"We wanted to retain the feel Sandy’s has had for so many years," GM Rick Oknick told the city tourism board in 2020. "We just really care about preserving this place."

And the specialty cheeseburger at a place that positions itself as a burger mecca? Of course the "world famous" Sandy's olive burger didn't go anywhere. (Do yourself a favor and click that link above—it's a glitchy portal back to the original Sandy's website.) On a recent Saturday, as clumpy snow floated down on Richfield, I journeyed to Sandy's with Racket's pizza reporter and two City Pages vets. Our mission: make sure the olive burger, quality-wise, remains as frozen in time as the establishment selling it.

Vibes-wise, Sandy's must be considered a tie with the larger, equally divey Frenchman's Pub located three miles east—both are perfect. All the authenticity calling cards are there, including tiled drop ceilings, faux-wood tables and booths, thinly carpeted floors, and kitschy crap all over the walls. Activity nights—bingo, meat raffles, trivia, karaoke—keep the regulars coming back, as do those celebrated burgers. During our visit, questionable '90s rock hummed over the PA system while guests chomped and chatted away inside the mostly full, single-room bar.

But we're here to talk about the olive burger, right? Right. It arrived hot 'n' fresh, strewn with an eye-popping mound of olives. Take a gander...

As you might expect, those green bad boys provide an absolute wallop of salt that commingles with the two creamy elements—melty American cheese and a generous smear of sour cream. It's a maximalist taste experience. None of those topping doodads would matter if the patty stunk, which we're happy to report is not the case. Sandy's sizzles its fresh, crumbly beef to default medium perfection with the practiced skill you'll find at a Matt's Bar or a Lion's Tap; the flat tops at old-school places like these seem to achieve a sense of beefy/cheesy alchemy.

All that juiciness, creaminess, and saltiness pressed between a squishy bun? It won't fall out of favor, even for another 90+ years. "Folks come from all over for it," late ex-owner Jeff Erickson told the Strib's greatly missed Rick Nelson in 2018.

Crinkle-cut fries are extra ($4.50 for a heaping half order, $7.50 for full) and fine.