Is it implicitly reprehensible to consternation what’s in it for me when making, essentially, a free concession with your meal?
That was a doubt we asked myself when we stopped during Shake Shack in Dupont to try a Roker Burger, a barbecue-and-hamburger mix designed by “Today” co-anchor Al Roker and a open sequence founded by restaurateur Danny Meyer. The Roker Burger is accessible by Friday during all Shake Shack locations national (except for a ones during JFK Airport, ballparks and stadiums). One dollar from your $7.49 squeeze will go to No Kid Hungry, a Share Our Strength debate to purify out childhood craving in America.
Personally, I’d eat a scrapings off Roker’s purple Vans if it meant each child in America could tumble defunct with a full stomach. But as with so many of these arrange of deals, in that a apportionment of a dish goes to charity, there’s an component of cold, distributed business churned into equation: You’ll make a special outing to Shake Shack (and expected buy some-more than a Roker Burger), and we might even be reminded that a NBC anchor is also a author of a barbecue cookbook.
There’s something in it for Shake Shack and Roker. Why not you?
Here are a burger’s details: It’s a 100 percent all-natural Angus beef patty surfaced with Niman Ranch grill pulled pork, American cheese, red-eye mayo (yes, it includes coffee, only like red-eye gravy) and pickles.
Judging by a pointer that greets we during a front of a line, a sandwich looks all purify and architectural. A Shake Shack worker was enlivening business to buy a burger as they entered a restaurant. He pronounced he had a quota: to pull 50 a day. (He still had 30 some-more to go during 12:40 p.m.)
My burger was anything though purify and architectural: It looked like a California mudslide that wiped out an In-N-Out Burger in a process.
The flavors were as unfocused as you’d suppose for a barbecue-burger mashup: a small tangy, a small spicy, a small beefy, a small sweet. It directed for, and successfully tripped, many of a ambience zones on a tongue. The thing was also as soothing and soft as an Oreo dunked in milk. we don’t consider diners will hunger for this sandwich once it disappears, like they do for, say, a McRib and a periodic appearances.
But we did feel flattering good that partial of my squeeze went to No Kid Hungry. Then again, we could have only donated a money to a classification and had whatever we wanted for lunch.