Bread is Pain

Before I even moved to NDG people would say, “Oh! You’re moving to NDG? Have you tried X yet?” and my answer was always invariably no, because I didn’t live in NDG yet and hadn’t really spent any time out here until I did. One of those places was Copoli, and even though it is located directly across from the Vendome metro, it took me a while to even notice it. It just sort of became part of the backdrop, blending in with the depanneur whose building it shares.

When I walk in the door to Copoli during lunch hour, there are several customers, and just one guy behind the cash register talking on a telephone, who does not acknowledge me, and presumably hasn’t acknowledged the person standing in front of me that has been waiting to order for who knows how long either. I’m looking around the place for a sign, a chalkboard, anything to tell me what’s available, and can’t even find a menu. Though, who am I kidding? I’m really only here to test the claim of having Montreal’s best burger, so a menu seems unnecessary. Still, with nothing else to do, I find a stack of take out menus by the cash register and grab one, browsing the otherwise usual fare of wings, submarines, and pizzas that a neighborhood take out might have.

Waiting during lunch hour for what I assumed would be more or less fast food is a little off-putting, but it’s also the kind of nonchalant lunch environment that could be potential gold. Sure, it’s not the greatest business strategy, but it’s also a sort of confidence, as if to say, “We’re just assuming you’re here because we have the best burger in town – so you can wait.” So I do.

A second guy pops out from the back room, makes a quick pace of the open chrome kitchen, and makes his way back to take our orders. I get the burger, obviously, and take a seat by the window. All the seats are by the window. The sizzle of meat hitting the grill and the bubble of a basket of fries dropped in hot oil is a welcome change in soundtrack to the cordless phone conversation and my stomach starts to gurgle in anticipation.

Copoli is renowned not only for having the “best” burger, but the biggest: behemoth eight inch hamburgers rivaled by no other restaurant in the city. This cannot be disputed, as whole loaves of dense, fresh focaccia-like bread are pulled out of plastic bags and sliced up on the counter. Once it’s divvied up, you’re looking at four triangular wedges, each the average size of a fast food hamburger. The “actual size!” advertising certainly doesn’t lie: this will not be a puny burger, but a force to be reckoned with.

Or should I say, it is not a puny bun? In order to cover the area, the meat has been pressed quite thinly, and with a thick layer of vegetable toppings, the hallmark ingredient of the burger doesn’t even seem noteworthy in each bite. Although marketed as Italian cuisine and having a few hallmark Italian items, the Copoli burger tastes more like a chunk of kebab or shawarma. I actually really enjoy the dense and chewy texture of the bun, a perfect design to hold up in any ideal juicy burger scenario where a weaker vessel might’ve fallen apart entirely, but something so durable is certainly not needed in this situation. After a single wedge of four, I have to ask for additional condiments as everything is starting to seem rather dry.

Aside from the meat itself being an unmemorable disk, with an additional couple squeezes of sauce and some Tobasco, The Copoli burger is not a bad sandwich. It’s also certainly filling, and not a bad value for eight bucks. I’m having a hard time even classifying it as a burger though, let alone Montreal’s best. Although the bread is a nice foundation, no one should boast about a burger’s greatness based alone on the bread it’s served on, and the Copoli burger itself quickly takes a back seat to that and a salad of tomatoes, lettuce, onions and pickles.

For what could’ve potentially aided in making the whole thing a more memorable meal, the uniformly bland fries feel like an afterthought accompaniment picked out of a frozen foods catalog. Just a few of those flavorless potato sticks started to leave a powdered starchy tang in my mouth and were otherwise left untouched on my plate. The burger might make a better sandwich than a testament to the wonders of ground beef, but those fries are basically an insult to the potato.