Swain Burger and Barbecue: A Welcome Blast From The Past

I abandoned my current healthy-eating initiative for a good old-fashioned burger the other day. And, rather than go to one of the numerous corporate Mc-burger stands surrounding our neighborhood, I decided to get some local flavor (quite literally) instead.

Heading East on Bruce Randolph from our street, between York and Colorado Boulevard, I had noticed in the past a place called Swain Burger and Barbecue. Located on a quiet block and in a quaint house, it was very inviting, at least for a fan of roadside-cuisine like myself.

Walking in the door, I was instantly greeted by a nice younger lady behind the counter. Her smile was sincere, and quite a contrast from the blank stare I have grown accustomed to in fast-food drive throughs over the years.

My eyes instantly were drawn to their menu posted on the wall. Catfish, Ribs, Chicken, Whiting (which I learned was fish), and, lo and behold, "Swain Burgers", their signature item, which, as the hostess shared, had been made here since before she was born. I thought, how can I go wrong with one of those? So I ordered a Swain Burger with bacon and cheese combo. Parting with just over $7 for the meal, I realized again: This isn't McDonalds. But, I reassured myself, this was going to be made fresh! And I was supporting a local, independent business.

There is no dining area at Swain Burger, only a few chairs pushed up against the walls of the limited floorspace in front of the counter, where I sat to await my order. I soon noticed funky, Fat-Albert-ish paintings depicting urban, African-American neighborhoods adorning the walls. A young girl came in who the staff knew by name. She informed them she had only $2.00 to spend, at which point the woman behind the counter began listing off all the possibilities on the menu that would fit her budget. The young girl settled on Peach Cobbler A la mode.

A moment later, cobbler and ice cream in hand, she was on her way. "My Mom will probably be back later," she said, walking out the door. "Because I'm not sharing!"

A few minutes later I was presented with a brown-paper sack containing my burger and fries. My soda came in a medium-sized styrofoam cup with one of those coffee lids with the pull-top. No Biggie Size here, but my waistline didn't need it. My combo also came with a very warm and sincere "Thank you darlin', come and see us again!", which warmed my cheeks like a beautiful girl's kiss. This was definitely not McDonalds.

I felt like I had traveled back in time, back to the day of the independent corner store and burger stand, before the days of 7-Eleven and McDonalds. Back when providing a quality product at a reasonable price was enough. Back when inexpensive food still was prepared with tender loving care, and before it became discount-driven, homogenous and highly processed.

I drove my food a few blocks home so I could enjoy it at the back yard table. The burger was huge, and well garnished with a big slice of tomato, lettuce, ketchup, mustard, mayo, and, of course, thick slabs of cheese and bacon. The bun, devoid of sesame seeds, had a welcome sweetness to it. The fries, clearly fresh-cut and fried, were nothing short of fantastic.

This was not McDonald's--And I was thrilled! Good, simple food, from even better people. How can you go wrong?

I only hope that others in the neighborhood catch on to their offerings so they don't disappear. In this day of corporate, cost-driven fast food, I can't imagine it's easy to profitably run an old-fashioned, independent burger and barbecue joint.

Give 'em a try next time you're in the neighborhood! I'll be there as much as my diet allows!