Cheeseburger in Paradise is now Beef ‘n Buns ‘n Paradise because, it seems, Jimmy Buffett can’t abide others cashing in on his tropical fantasies. These days, McClure lives even nearer to this drive-through vacation spot for burgers, canines, shakes and a temporary respite from the commercial existence of East Frederick. She, in reality, lives subsequent door. About two years in the past, she purchased the trade and its adjoining apartment homes from the former homeowners, Rod and Vicki Sipes, who determined to make their very own paradise in Florida — without or with cheeseburgers.
McClure runs the trade with recognize for Beef ‘n Buns’ position in Frederick’s eating ecosystem, delicate to the neighborhood’s desires and economics. She has slightly touched the menu since taking on operations. She hasn’t added birria tacos, butter forums, ramen lasagna or some other dish that has had a second on TikTok ahead of crawling into the curio cupboard of Twenty first-century cooking. No, she understands why locals come to Beef ‘n Buns, and it’s no longer for the craze du jour. It’s for the relief. It’s for a sense of continuity in a international in large part absent of it. It’s for bubble gum Parrot-Ice after a Little League recreation.
Beef ‘n Buns is the kind of small-town burger joint that doesn’t generally live to tell the tale the march of time, on no account in an generation when Shake Shack, Five Guys and In-N-Out appear hellbent on muscling out any competitor with native colour. But McClure isn’t the sort to backpedal from a combat. She possesses the right combine of heat, just right humor and the lack to endure fools. There’s a signal above the order window at Beef ‘n Buns, not far from the fake palm-frond fan and the surfboards propped in the corner. It pretty much sums up the McClure ethos: “ATTENTION: Do you want to speak to the MAN in charge or to the WOMAN who knows what’s happening?”
McClure learn the room accurately when the Sipeses first regarded as promoting the store: If no longer for her intervention, the trade would have most definitely long past the best way of Freez King. Other consumers, McClure advised me, “just wanted the land, and they didn’t want the business. Or if they wanted the business, they didn’t want to keep it the same. They wanted to put something else in here. And I just got to talking with Rod and Vicki, and I’m like, ‘Look, what do I got to do?’”
Can a trade one that is helping keep native tradition ever be regarded as a hero, or no less than hero-adjacent? Probably no longer, as a result of of the monetary rewards they may be able to reap. I imply, this isn’t philanthropy. But regardless, McClure grades top on my inner Rate-a-Restaurateur scorecard. (Bet you didn’t even know that exists, right?) The verdict: First-time restaurateur buys a native establishment, all over a pandemic no much less, and units apart her ego to take care of the continuity of a position that’s been serving Frederick since 1995. Four stars.
The meals is lovely high quality, too. Start with — what else? — the burgers. The Cape Maye burger is a distillation of the whole thing I like about Beef ‘n Buns: the reliance on local beef, sourced from Wagner’s Meats and Mount Airy Meat Locker. The Maryland pleasure, manifested in the shape of a crab cake that’s perched atop the burger. And the devil-may-care perspective of a 3rd animal protein (sliced ham) as a result of, in this paradise, you’ll have no matter you want for, kind of like Seth Rogen and Jay Baruchel in the final scene of “This Is the End.” The Cajun Bleu burger (a patty dipped in sizzling sauce, then crowned with sliced ham, fries, lettuce, tomato, onion and a ultimate drizzle of blue cheese dressing) is simply as depraved because the Cape Maye — and simply as depraved just right.
The sizzling canines are the all-beef selection, fats and snappy. You can tuck one of those jumbo hyperlinks into a toasted bun, together with your selection of toppings, together with a housemade chili. I dig the canines. The chili tilts towards the candy finish of the spectrum, nearer to sloppy Joes than to the cayenne-infused Texas stew I favor. Should you check out the chili canine, I’d counsel ordering the model with a streak of nacho cheese, which cuts the treacly meat sauce. Unless, of direction, you occur to love the candy tomato shimmer of sloppy Joes; then, by means of all way, cross with the usual chili canine. This is paradise, in the end. All your wants must be happy.
Beef ‘n Buns offers a lengthy list of sandwiches and subs. I prefer the meat-heavy preparations to the salads mixed with tuna or chicken, which would benefit from a pinch more salt and pepper. But let me tell you about the pulled pork sandwich: It blew away my (admittedly low) expectations. McClure and crew occasionally trot out a smoker to slow-cook pork butts, which are pulled, sauced and tucked into a toasted kaiser roll. Smoky, tangy and a touch spicy, this pulled pork outperforms countless versions I’ve sampled at precise fish fry joints. The corned red meat for the Reuben is no longer ready in-house, however you received’t care as soon as it’s piled top inside of griddled slices of rye. The steak and cheese, with its neat row of tomatoes and squares of American cheese, would stay a Philadelphian up at night time, nevertheless it’s a tasty jawn all its personal.
A forestall at Beef ‘n Buns is basically a license to indulge. What I mean is that once you make the decision to go, all moderation and dietary rules should be temporarily suspended. Which doesn’t imply you must order no matter random temptations seem ahead of your eyes at the dizzyingly lengthy menu. You can safely skip the fried seafood, pre-battered and frozen, and save your guilt for actual indulgences, just like the malted shakes; floats; snow cones (known as Parrot-Ice); parfaits; or the aptly named Peanut Butter Overdose, in which vanilla ice cream is layered into a waffle bowl and accessorized with housemade peanut butter sauce, overwhelmed peanuts, whipped cream and crumbled Reese’s cups.
I must observe that Beef ‘n Buns is not a traditional drive-through. You don’t pull your automobile as much as the window, position an order and peel off together with your bag. You should name forward and select up; Beef ‘n Buns doesn’t do on-line ordering. If you’re no longer in a hurry, I’d counsel strolling throughout the store’s enclosed porch, the place it’s possible you’ll meet McClure or her daughter, Ashley, and even her mom, Terry Fox. Any one of them may well be running the entrance window. You can thank them for protecting native tradition after which convey your order to the patio, the place you’ll take a seat close to a gator protecting a soft-serve cone and stare on the Sheetz around the boulevard. You can mirror on what was — and what nonetheless is — in Frederick.
Beef ‘n Buns ‘n Paradise
1201 E. Patrick St., Frederick, Md., 301-631-0188; beefnbunsnparadise.com.
Hours: 11 a.m. to six p.m. Wednesday via Friday, 11 a.m. to eight p.m. Saturday and midday to eight p.m. Sunday.
Prices: $2.99 to $15.99 for all pieces at the menu.