K. LaMay’s Steamed Cheeseburgers

Oh, K. LaMay
K LaMay’s Steamed Cheeseburgers, Meriden
August 2023

I started “completing” the Roadfood “Eat Before You Die” list in 2009 or so. I actually plowed through the 60 or so places that was still open and then Michael and Jane Stern released another version of their fun book with a slew of new-to-the-list Connecticut eateries and food items.

My to-do list: expanded.

I did not grow up in central Connecticut and have never been a big “burger guy”… so who better to discuss steamed cheeseburgers? Regardless, I love the idea that Connecticut has its own thing – a unique Connecticut food item. And in this case, it’s even more specific to central Connecticut and almost exclusively centered in Meriden alone.

Now, the logical reaction to the preceding paragraph is “Why? Why are steamed burgers such a sub-sub-sub-regional food?” Or, “why are steamed burgers only successful in such a specific location?”

One answer is simply because steamed ground beef is gross and everyone knows and accepts that fact other than proud locals in Meriden and Wallingford, Connecticut.

Another would be that the fine people of Meriden and Wallingford, Connecticut are very protective of their delicious secret and want to keep it all to themselves.

On that latter point, there have been several attempts at expanding the steamy meat’s reach, but it just never seems to latch on. Forays beyond the Meriden-Middletown area always seem to fail. In fact, if you’re really interested in this topic, you should read what on my page about The Lunch Box – another Meriden steamer joint that closed in 2019.

So… what’s going on here? Gastro Obscura provides a decent history:

The epicenter of the steamed cheeseburger is Meriden, Connecticut. The recipe has been traced back to the 19oos when it was simply steamed cheese on a roll served from a horse-drawn food cart. When a beef patty was added later, the steamed cheeseburger was born. It’s still a local specialty.

Steaming a burger requires a special process. Cooks pack ground beef into rectangular metal molds, which are suspended in custom stainless steel boxes that can cook dozens of burgers at a time. The bottom of the steamer contains water that heats up and cooks the meat in boiling vapor in about 10 minutes. It’s a delicate balance—burger patties steamed too long become rubbery and dry, especially since a lot of grease is lost in the cooking process.

Meanwhile, chunks of cheddar cheese steam in separate containers until they become molten. Once the burgers are done, cooks slide the soft, grayish patties onto rolls and pour the cheese into a gooey mass on top, along with a pile of lettuce, tomato, and condiments. The meat becomes infused with water from the steamer, leading to one juicy burger.

Divorcing the burger from the grill may seem profane. But the steamed cheeseburger is a legacy of a more fluid burger culture. A bit of burger history: According to the Library of Congress, the birth of the hamburger took place in New Haven, Connecticut, in 1895. Like many new inventions, burgers went through several permutations before arriving at the current grilled and bun-clad form. The steamed cheeseburg is one of several variations that survived from an era when the idea of a hamburger wasn’t fully standardized.

Right, but it’s only survived in one tiny little place! It’s so weird!

Obscura didn’t mention anyone by name, but Ted’s Restaurant right up the road in Meriden is the epicenter of the epicenter – even though they didn’t start steaming meat until 1959 – 64 years after Louis’ Lunch supposedly invented the hamburger as we know it down I-91 in New Haven. Ted’s calls itself “World Famous.” Kevin LaMay worked at Ted’s as a teen and later left to try his hand at improving upon the original. (No one told him that flame-broiling or grilling might do the trick.)

Beginning in 2006, LaMay operated out of a few places before landing in a small Main Street strip where they still operate today. Right next to an adult store. All things steamy in Meriden.

K. Lamay’s one-ups Ted’s at every turn. Everything is bigger here. The space itself is bigger. The 1/3 pound burgers are bigger. And the giant Kaiser buns are bigger… We were off to a good start. I ordered my cheeseburger “with everything but ketchup” and before I knew it, I was handed a bag with a giant steamed burger in it. Got the required Foxon Park White Birch Beer (duh) and moved to the outside picnic tables. That are in the parking lot, not too far from the dumpsters. Not exactly idyllic, but we’re eating steamed ground beef, so it’s okay.

Holy cow… errr, Steamy Cow! This thing is huge and only nine bucks. The patty is malformed and a bit of a mess – which is normal with steamed burgers. Lettuce, tomato, mustard, pickles, and massive raw white onion. I removed the onion. I’m not a monster.

Roadfood Says:

As national interest in regional American food has blossomed in the last several years, the steamed cheeseburger has been discovered. While it is no longer an obsession known only to denizens of central Connecticut, it remains and acquired taste, the acquisition usually quite difficult for those who did not grow up eating it. Unlike renowned hamburgers elsewhere, this patty has no crunch whatsoever to its surface. At its worst, it resembles a wet sponge. But at its best, it is all juiciness and flavor.

It most definitely is at its best at K. LaMay’s. Kevin LaMay began work in the burger field at Ted’s, which is the grand old institution of steamers. When he opened his own place, he decided to improve upon the formula. His burgers are bigger – one-third pound, rather than one-quarter pound; they are generously draped with steamed-soft cheese, and they are insanely juicy. One burger with the works, which would e tomato, lettuce, mustard, ketchup, and /or a dollop of Sweet Baby Ray’s BBQ sauce on each table, is a big, sloppy, delicious mess. On the side there are French fries and onion rings, interesting potato chips, and locally bottled Foxon Park sodas.

I didn’t hate it. I still don’t really get it, as I rather love the taste of char on meat. Sure, it was juicy, but these things are just lumps of wan steamed meat. The thick robe of Wisconsin cheddar was wonderful, and the heaping heap of add-ons were great. But the burger itself? It just got kind of lost in the bread and mustard and… nostalgia.

K. LaMay’s and Ted’s are successful. There are others around the area that come and go. Locals love them and they win all sorts of “Best Ofs” all the time. But if we’re being honest with ourselves, Connecticut, neither Meriden’s steamies nor Louis’ Lunch’s old timey sandwich bread burgers are anywhere near the top 50 burgers in the state. Objectively speaking.

However, again, it’s awesome that these antiquated, weird, unique little restaurants with their antiquated, weird, and unique little meat steaming contraptions positively thrive here to this day. I really do love that, and you should too.