maciek macak
Google
I didn’t even feel like writing this review. Not because the burgers weren’t good, on the contrary, they were dangerously good, but because they’re also affordable. And that’s a problem. Because now I’ve contributed to the very thing I fear: the slow, inevitable rise of the line-around-the-block era. I’ve already seen influencers influencing on-premises, ring lights in hand, chasing clout between bites. The clock is ticking.
But here we are.
Service is friendly, helpful, and refreshingly unpretentious. The food takes a minute, but it’s worth every second. No “how would you like your burger cooked?” interrogation—just a simple choice: “smashed” or “normal.” I chose “normal,” because I still believe in texture, dignity, and the right to a burger that doesn’t resemble a meat coaster.
My Burger Créole came stacked with spicy pikliz, tomato, cheddar, pikliz aioli, and extra bacon, all on a butter-grilled brioche bun that could moonlight as dessert. Juicy, fiery, and just chaotic enough to feel handcrafted. My wife went for the Bacon Cheeseburger—crispy smoked bacon, melted American cheese, pickles (twice, for emphasis), green leaf lettuce, and house sauce, all on a butter-butter grilled brioche bun. Yes, double butter. Yes, she fell victim to the “smashed” craze. We’re working through it.
She also tried the Jerk Wings, which were flavorful but a bit heavy-handed on the salt. Same goes for the Cajun fries we shared, delicious, but clearly seasoned by someone with unresolved feelings about sodium.
Still, Rogers Burger delivers where it counts. It’s the kind of place that knows its lane and drives it like a stolen Cadillac. No frills, no apologies, just burgers done right and a neighborhood vibe that feels earned.
Go now, before the TikTokers take over.