

The double burger at CaliBurger is an analogue to the mythical Double-Double at In-N-Out. (Katherine Frey/The Washington Post)

Even in this age, when almost everything can be purchased with the swipe of a finger, we’re still fascinated with objects and experiences beyond our smartphone’s reach. The aurora borealis. Terra Cotta Army. Chichen Itza. In-N-Out burgers.

Family-owned for more than 65 years, In-N-Out has so far rejected the manifest destiny of similar burger chains that have steadily marched across America. The Irvine, Calif., based company has spread its sunny, SoCal ground-beef empire no farther east than Texas, leaving many of us with only memories of In-N-Out burgers past. Over time, those memories have bloated into full-blown myths: burgers so juicy, ingredients so fresh, employees so ridiculously cheery that no other hamburger chain will do.

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Enter CaliBurger, which debuted more than four years ago in Shanghai as an acknowledged In-N-Out imitator, one more American knockoff in a country rife with them. The family behind In-N-Out sued the California-based owners of CaliBurger before they could even open their doors in China, successfully blunting the copycat’s connections to the beloved chain. CaliBurger agreed to make changes to its menu and decor.

But as I walk into the CaliBurger outlet in Columbia, the first of several planned for Maryland, I’m struck by how much the operation reminds me of In-N-Out. The color schemes are not an exact match, but the shades of yellow and orange splashed around CaliBurger generate a Pavlovian response: I’m all but aching for an Animal-style Double-Double. (For the uninitiated, that’s a double-meat, double-cheese burger in which the patties are fried on the griddle with mustard.) CaliBurger even incorporates a palm tree into its signage, as if the chain has the same connection to the slender palm as the late founder of In-N-Out did.



The CaliBurger in Columbia is the first of several planned locations of the chain in Maryland. (Katherine Frey/The Washington Post)

If CaliBurger earns a demerit for a lack of imagination — for the record, Sumeet Goel, the area developer for CaliBurger, plays down any connection to In-N-Out — it also scores points for understanding what makes the original SoCal chain so popular. Both trade on freshness, with everything cooked to order. Both also build burgers with ground-beef patties formed to their own specifications. (Although In-N-Out has its own processing facilities, while Goel relies on a third-party butcher.)

I went weak in the knees the minute I laid eyes on my first order from CaliBurger. It was a single cheeseburger in which the diced onions, all browned and semi-translucent, were embedded in the gooey slice of American cheese that was starting to droop over the sides of the glistening patty. It was one of those moments I hated being a critic: I just wanted to inhale that sucker and let its sweet greasiness take me on a rip-snorting roller-coaster ride without interference from the brain. But even with the occasional pause for notetaking, I was impressed with the burger, which like its inspiration was half-sheathed in a colorful, branded wrapper.

Nothing, sadly, compared to that first experience. On two occasions, I ordered the CaliDouble — the equivalent of In-N-Out’s Double-Double — and both times I found it underwhelming. The problem lay with the twin stack of meat, which seemed only to emphasize the shortcomings of the lean beef. Or the shortcomings of the griddle cook. Or both. The patties had been cooked to the consistency of squeaky cheese, with little evidence that the rendered fat had been allowed to crisp around the edges. Nothing could mask the bland chewiness of the beef: not the iceberg lettuce, not the slices of ripe tomatoes, not the double layer of American cheese and not the thick squirt of “signature” sauce (yet another Thousand Island variation).



The meat on the chipotle BBQ chicken sandwich is dry and would be bland except for the sauce. (Katherine Frey/The Washington Post)

CaliBurger prides itself on a menu that ventures beyond the burgers, shakes and fries found at In-N-Out. This strikes me as a case of misplaced pride, the politician who claims his stubbornness is a virtue.

The chipotle barbecue chicken sandwich contained a thin plank of arid breast meat, almost bereft of seasoning. If not for the piquant sauce, the bite could have been mistaken for coach-section airline grub. The grilled cheese laughed in the face of everything good about the classic: Slices of barely melted American were smothered inside a pillowy hamburger bun, a conceptual bust that deprived you of the hot, buttery crunch that defines the sandwich. The bleak garden salad was, essentially, a bowl of burger toppings covered in signature sauce.

So skip the salad, even if you’re tempted to appease that scolding dietitian inside your head who insists on balancing greasy burgers with a bowl of leafy greens. Stick with the fries, which are cut fresh from skin-on russets. They’re double-fried to a crispy edge and seasoned with just enough salt to release the potato flavor locked inside. Don’t let the counter employee entice you into the Cali-fries, either; those minimalist potato sticks are buried under a splatter painting of sauce, cheese, onions and whatnot.



The fries are quite good, but the “Cali-style” option tends to cover up what’s good about them. (Katherine Frey/The Washington Post)

CaliBurger’s regular fries blow away the ones at In-N-Out, which I sampled (twice) on a recent trip out west. In-N-Out uses Kennebecs, a low-water-content potato that makes for a strangely cakey french fry, as if the spuds were baked in an oven. These are not the fries of my dreams. It’s funny, but like many others without easy access to the chain, I have been guilty of idealizing In-N-Out, a behavior that, as with any romantic fantasy, can only lead to a deflated experience when confronted with the messy reality. Sure, In-N-Out can deliver a tasty burger, garnished with toppings that seemed as if they were picked from the garden that morning. But this is also a high-volume chain, with more than 300 locations, fraught with human error and overcooked patties.

In-N-Out’s genius, I think, is its ability to conjure an idyllic California of the mid-20th century: the immaculate white uniforms, paper hats, impossibly vibrant colors, drive-through windows. It’s postwar Americana, sans global warming, forever preserved in a Los Angeles back lot of a burger joint. CaliBurger pushes that carefully crafted image into the 21st century with an emphasis on technology, including a video wall. It’s a legit adaptation, I guess, but I’d be a lot happier if CaliBurger would just serve up a consistently juicy hamburger. I mean, it has to establish a solid reputation first before it can tarnish it with overexpansion.