The premise of 8oz Burger Bar is to be oh-so-much more than just a burger joint. With a celebrity chef name, and the accompanying upscale stylings, the concept conjures images of yes, burgers, but also of swank-ified sides and similarly spiffy patrons. In reality, 8oz is just a burger bar, but a darn good one. Its headlining of sustainability and its attempts to step out of the box are consistently unimaginative and underwhelming, yet the burgers themselves, including the epically important 'classic,' are quintessentially both meaty and balanced.
Despite announcing on the menu that all burgers will be cooked to order to MEDIUM or WELL only (their caps), burgers ordered medium-rare came out exactly that. For a place claiming not to know such a temperature, the burgers were close to the dictionary definition. Medium rare, with its light excess of juiciness, can be hard (or rather, too soft) on a bun, causing it to fall apart before the last mouthful of meat. Here the brioche bun held fast, not wavering to the other side of the equation either: becoming too hard or chewy.
The burger, while hefty, will leave you plenty of room for the side of fries. The fries are good, but it's worth an upgrade to the onion rings. Plenty of real onion is involved, and the rings don't fall apart, as is often the case. Simple sides that you expect at a burger joint are spot on here, and these are no exception.
What missed the mark were the appetizers. A fairly decent mac n' cheese was rendered nearly inedible by a heavy hand sprinkling cinnamon on top. Fried green tomatoes were well-fried with a crispy crust and came with a peppercorn aioli that gave a friendly bite, but were marred by the overwhelming and slightly musty flavor of thyme in the breading. Yet again, a return to the basics was in order, as an app order was redeemed by the mini-corndogs, a nod to nostalgia that made the whole table smile wistfully.