When this gourmet hamburger renaissance gathered steam around 2008, restaurants operated on the shock-and-awe philosophy: "Just how nuts can we concoct our burgers?" We witnessed foie gras, lobster tails and Perigord truffles between buns, and it was, for lack of a better term, crazy sauce. Now, the trend seems to be chefs course correcting for their overindulgences. It's why I like Chef's Burger Bistro, which took over the Boston Blackie's Streeterville space in February. The bistro burger — its malty and soft buns baked in-house — is the most prim and aesthetically pleasing sandwich I encountered on this expedition. The thick tomato is sliced in perfect parallel, the lettuce crisp and golf course-green, the charcoal-broiled half-pound patty hand-formed with precise geometry. You almost feel obligated to eat it with silverware. My two favorite traits: Gouda, lending considerable funk, is the default cheese, and the crunchy bread-and-butter pickles lend a sweet zip against the beefiness. This ain't an in-your-face rock 'n' roll burger: This was made by chefs who took their time.