A 27-year argument, settled by the guy who chose fire
I've been cooking burgers over open flame since 1997. People ask me all the time — why fire? Why not a flat-top griddle like most burger places? It's a fair question. The short answer is flavor. The long answer is everything below.
By Abraham Dababneh · April 2026
Here's the thing — both methods make good burgers. I eat flat-top burgers at other restaurants and enjoy them. But they produce fundamentally different results, and once you understand why, you'll taste the difference every time.
| Factor | Flame Grill | Flat Top |
|---|---|---|
| Heat source | Direct radiant heat from below | Conductive heat from metal surface |
| Temperature | 500-700°F at grate level | 350-450°F surface |
| Fat behavior | Drips down, creates smoke and char | Pools around patty, fries the edges |
| Crust type | Char marks, smoky flavor | Even Maillard crust, buttery |
| Juiciness | High — fast sear locks moisture | Medium — longer cook time |
| Flavor profile | Smoky, charred, primal | Savory, caramelized, rich |
| Best for | Thick patties (1/4 lb+) | Smash burgers, thin patties |
| Difficulty | Harder — fire is unpredictable | Easier — consistent temperature |
A flat top gives you control. Temperature stays consistent, the patty sits on an even surface, and you can smash it thin for that crispy lace edge. It's a reliable, repeatable process. Most burger chains use flat tops because they're forgiving — a new cook can make a decent burger on day one.
A flame grill is the opposite. The fire moves. Hot spots shift. Fat drips and causes flare-ups. You have to watch every patty and adjust constantly. It takes months to get good at it and years to get fast. Most restaurants avoid it because it's harder to train staff on.
But here's what fire gives you that metal can't: smoke. When beef fat hits an open flame, it vaporizes and rises back up through the meat as smoke. That's the flavor you're tasting — the char, the depth, the slightly wild edge that makes you close your eyes on the first bite. You can't get that from a flat surface. Physics won't allow it.
Both methods use the Maillard reaction — the chemical process that browns meat and creates hundreds of flavor compounds. But they trigger it differently.
A flat top heats the entire bottom surface of the patty evenly. You get a uniform golden-brown crust with consistent flavor across the whole patty. It's beautiful, and it tastes great.
A flame grill heats in stripes where the grate touches, and through radiant heat everywhere else. You get char marks at 600+ degrees with gentler cooking between them. The temperature variation creates more complex flavor compounds because different parts of the patty are reacting at different rates. It's messier, but the flavor profile is wider.
On top of that, the dripping fat creates what food scientists call "lipid pyrolysis products" — fancy words for smoke compounds that deposit back onto the meat. Flat tops don't produce these because the fat has nowhere to go but sideways.
I'll be honest — for a smash burger, flat top is better. A thin patty pressed hard against a hot griddle develops an insane crust that flame can't match. The entire surface becomes crispy while the interior stays barely medium. It's a different kind of perfection.
Places like Calibur in the Sunset do this really well. Their smash burgers have lacy edges that shatter when you bite through them. I respect it. It's just not what we do.
We use half-pound patties. That's thick. On a flat top, a patty this size would take 6-8 minutes per side and risk drying out the edges before the center cooks through. On our flame grill, we sear it hard for about 2 minutes per side — the outside chars while the inside stays pink and dripping. The fat renders through the meat instead of pooling around it.
Then we rest it for 30 seconds on the cooler part of the grate before it hits the bun. That rest lets the juices redistribute. Skip the rest and you get a puddle on your wrapper. Wait, and you get a burger that's juicy through the last bite.
It's not better or worse than flat top — it's different. We chose fire because Abraham likes the way it tastes, the way the restaurant smells when the grill is running, and the challenge of cooking over something that fights back. After 27 years, he wouldn't trade it.
Next time you eat a burger, look at the patty. Distinct grill marks with lighter areas between them? Flame grill. Even golden-brown crust across the whole surface? Flat top. Both are signs of a cook who knows what they're doing. Neither is wrong. But now you know what you're tasting, and why.