It's not exactly health food, but a small counter shop in outer Escondido seems determined to put all the best of intentions into the smashburger trend.
Called Farm to Smash, its name makes a cheeky play on the farm-to-table dining concept. And though its location — a couple miles northeast of the 15 freeway — puts it close to more fresh produce than any burger joint could want, the chief target of its efforts appears to be the removal of additives and processed ingredients from its cooking.
To this end, Farm to Smash grinds its own beef (brisket and chuck), fries its french fries in beef tallow, and makes its own mayonnaise and other burger spreads with pure avocado oil. It boasts that none of its ingredients are ever frozen, except for its trio of thick milkshakes (chocolate, strawberry, or vanilla, $7).

All of which is fine. But what really stood out to me was just how smashed they managed to get their burgers. These things were as flat as can be, almost like they put a big fat burger through a deli slicer and let it cut a thick slice of sandwich meat. Each patty starts out around 3.3 ounces, then gets smashed onto the griddle with a press so it comes out flat and wide and crispy.
The great promise of a smashburger is that more surface area of the beef makes contact with the grill, so more of the beef is charred. And since charred meat tastes better (thank you Maillard reaction), a smashburger that has more charred beef than juicy, in-the-center beef will, in theory, taste better. Well, Farm to Table's burgers are entirely char. Thinner than a schnitzel, each patty is merely the crispy outer layer of a burger, all the way through. The muffin top without the muffin, so to speak.
That makes for a fun and tasty burger. It also means that most burger devotees making their way to this outpost will want to order a double or even triple patty. The menu is set up to satisfy this demand, effectively charging $8 for a single patty, $11 for a double patty, and $14 for a triple (which would come to more than a half-pound of beef). All on locally baked, toasted brioche buns.
As I planned to chow down a couple of different burgers during my visit, I stuck to a single patty. This works just find if you stick to "The Original" burger option, which remains faithful to smashburger convention: pickles, grilled onions, and American cheese.

However, Farm to Smash is prepared to dress up your burger in myriad ways, and once you start to stack toppings — especially lettuce and tomato —a double patty is probably the way to go. Custom burgers may include the likes of jalapeños, pickles, raw onions, bacon (+$1), and mushrooms (+$1); plus a choice of garlic, chipotle, and "original" spread. They've also put together a few specialty burger options to show off tried and true favorites, including a garlic and mushroom burger, and a spicy "Flamin' Smash."
I put together a fairly classic burger, with lettuce, tomato, and grilled onions, but decided to give it a So Cal-style twist with the restaurant's chipotle sauce. I did want for a second patty to give me more to chew on, but I proved to myself something I've long suspected to be true: I'll take chipotle on my burger over thousand island, every time.
It's not exactly health food, but a small counter shop in outer Escondido seems determined to put all the best of intentions into the smashburger trend.
Called Farm to Smash, its name makes a cheeky play on the farm-to-table dining concept. And though its location — a couple miles northeast of the 15 freeway — puts it close to more fresh produce than any burger joint could want, the chief target of its efforts appears to be the removal of additives and processed ingredients from its cooking.
To this end, Farm to Smash grinds its own beef (brisket and chuck), fries its french fries in beef tallow, and makes its own mayonnaise and other burger spreads with pure avocado oil. It boasts that none of its ingredients are ever frozen, except for its trio of thick milkshakes (chocolate, strawberry, or vanilla, $7).

All of which is fine. But what really stood out to me was just how smashed they managed to get their burgers. These things were as flat as can be, almost like they put a big fat burger through a deli slicer and let it cut a thick slice of sandwich meat. Each patty starts out around 3.3 ounces, then gets smashed onto the griddle with a press so it comes out flat and wide and crispy.
The great promise of a smashburger is that more surface area of the beef makes contact with the grill, so more of the beef is charred. And since charred meat tastes better (thank you Maillard reaction), a smashburger that has more charred beef than juicy, in-the-center beef will, in theory, taste better. Well, Farm to Table's burgers are entirely char. Thinner than a schnitzel, each patty is merely the crispy outer layer of a burger, all the way through. The muffin top without the muffin, so to speak.
That makes for a fun and tasty burger. It also means that most burger devotees making their way to this outpost will want to order a double or even triple patty. The menu is set up to satisfy this demand, effectively charging $8 for a single patty, $11 for a double patty, and $14 for a triple (which would come to more than a half-pound of beef). All on locally baked, toasted brioche buns.
As I planned to chow down a couple of different burgers during my visit, I stuck to a single patty. This works just find if you stick to "The Original" burger option, which remains faithful to smashburger convention: pickles, grilled onions, and American cheese.

However, Farm to Smash is prepared to dress up your burger in myriad ways, and once you start to stack toppings — especially lettuce and tomato —a double patty is probably the way to go. Custom burgers may include the likes of jalapeños, pickles, raw onions, bacon (+$1), and mushrooms (+$1); plus a choice of garlic, chipotle, and "original" spread. They've also put together a few specialty burger options to show off tried and true favorites, including a garlic and mushroom burger, and a spicy "Flamin' Smash."
I put together a fairly classic burger, with lettuce, tomato, and grilled onions, but decided to give it a So Cal-style twist with the restaurant's chipotle sauce. I did want for a second patty to give me more to chew on, but I proved to myself something I've long suspected to be true: I'll take chipotle on my burger over thousand island, every time.