While staring slack-jawed at my TV, I happened upon a video from YouTube food critic Brennen Taylor, who has 4 million subscribers and a snarky attitude his viewers must find amusing.
Taylor was spending the day eating at “viral” Chattanooga restaurants and offering his thoughts on the food, service and atmosphere. His first stop was Lo Main, a neighborhood bar in the Ridgedale and Highland Park communities whose Murder Burger has achieved legendary status among locals.
Despite having never been to Lo Main, I was disheartened to watch Taylor and his crew stride in unannounced and shove a camera in the face of the guy behind the bar. When the man greeted this intrusion with perfectly understandable annoyance, Taylor proceeded to whine about his apparent lack of a sense of humor.
Things went downhill from there.
The Murder Burger failed to find favor with Taylor’s palate, and before leaving he wrote off Lo Main as a poor choice for diners.
Certain an injustice had been done, I grabbed my notebook, pen and photographer (my wife) and headed to Lo Main on a Friday evening to try the food for myself.
I’m outraged. Who does this Brennen Taylor guy think he is?
To be fair, everyone – including Taylor – has a right to an opinion. Likewise, everyone – especially Taylor – can be wrong.
I might be spoiling things before I get started, but having been to Lo Main, I can contend that it’s one of the best places to eat in its price range in Chattanooga.
Heck, it’s probably one of the best places to eat in any price range in Chattanooga.
You’re getting ahead of yourself. Tell me about Lo Main’s vibe. I heard it’s great.
You heard correctly.
Like Taylor, my wife and I arrived unannounced. After presenting our IDs to a nice gentleman seated outside the entrance reading Kurt Vonnegut’s “A Man Without a Country,” we stepped inside.
Unlike Taylor, we kept our cameras in our pockets.
The place was packed, which made it feel smaller than it actually is. It’s not Aretha Frankensteins small (if you know, you know), but it’s pretty small. Still, I don’t believe I’ve ever seen a more efficient arrangement of various and sundry tables – a truly cobbled-together collection of old eating surfaces – than the one at Lo Main.
The tables fit right in with the rest of the dining area, which has the vibe of a well-worn neighborhood bar. The building itself resembles a large shack squeezed between other buildings on East Main Street.
I mean all of this in the best way possible.
There are more tables outside, but as we considered our options, a couple vacated a tiny table for two. We snagged it after grabbing menus from the bar.
Ah, the menu. I’ve heard that Lo Main sells only one burger – and no fries! Is this true?
Your source was, once again, correct.
When you visit Lo Main, read the first page of the menu, which introduces the restaurant and its rules, so to speak. You’ll learn that they indeed serve one burger, nothing fried and no ketchup.
Lo Main also offers an assortment of domestic beer and “no mixed shots of any kind,” to quote the next paragraph.
Since I was there to try the Murder Burger, which on the menu is printed alongside a copyright symbol (©), I wasn’t concerned about a lack of options as I turned the page. Still, I was surprised to find a small rotating selection across just two pages.
Reminding myself that Lo Main is, at its heart, a bar, I dug into the selections, helpfully prefaced on both pages with the heading “Food.”
The Murder Burger sat at the top of the first page, humbly declaring a mouthwatering list of ingredients: two smashed beef patties, American cheese, grilled onions, lettuce, curry mayo (remember this) and chipotle crema on a brioche bun.
“Holy sizzling beef patties, Batman,” I uttered. “I need this in front of me now.”
A Lo Main patron seated within earshot turned in his chair, leaned into my personal space and said, “You’re going to love it.”
He explained that he and his two friends were out-of-towners spending the day eating at local spots. He then upped the ante by saying the Murder Burger topped all of his favorite burgers in cities throughout the Southeast.
“So the legend of the Murder Burger extends well beyond Chattanooga,” I noted.
Other sandwich options included a veggie burger, a pimento dog, an Italian hoagie and a turkey pesto melt.
The second page contained five appetizers and sides, each substantial enough to serve as a meal, I later learned. After I read “Kimchi Fried Rice” out loud, I heard the now-familiar creak of my neighbor’s chair. A moment later, his voice was nearly in my ear.
“You have to try that. It’s ah-mazing.”
With my wife having settled on the turkey pesto and smoked tomato hummus, I made my way to the bar, where patrons place their orders.
I’ve heard of the Kimchi Fried Rice, too. What did you think of it?
I’ll have to get back to you on that. They were out of kimchi.
When the gentleman next to me heard this, he turned his head and said, “Try the Arroz Con Elote instead. It’s incredible.”
The dish, as the menu describes it, consists of jasmine rice, roasted corn and red peppers, a house cheese blend, chipotle crema, jalapeños and Tajín, a Mexican seasoning blend made from chili peppers, dehydrated lime juice and sea salt.
Not yet immune to the copious amount of superlatives being tossed around, I made the switch.
Despite the large crowd inside and out, neither my wait in line nor our wait for the food felt long, and the next thing we knew, we were digging in.
I’ll begin with the Murder Burger, which I scarcely believe I can do justice.
If you’ve ever seen a restaurant review on YouTube, you know the moment when the host takes their first bite, closes their eyes, leans back and utters “Oh my goodness” through a mouthful of food.
This was me after one bite of the Murder Burger.
I don’t know if there’s a science to cooking smash burgers, but the warm brioche bun and the combination of perfectly seasoned and cooked patties, melted cheese and caramelized onions were, well, perfection.
Then came the curry mayo and chipotle crema, which gave the burger a smoky, tangy and warmly spiced flavor unlike anything I’ve tasted on a burger. It was, as our neighbor promised, “ah-mazing.”
So why am I more anxious to tell you about the Arroz Con Elote?
Served in a paper bowl and weighing what felt like nearly a pound, the steaming-hot dish immediately hit me with the tangy lime of the Tajín. The occasional bite of jalapeño added a welcome kick.
But the star of the show was the house cheese blend, which worked its way through everything. Nearly every forkful pulled up strands of melted cheese with rice and vegetables, giving the concoction a rich, gooey quality that played beautifully against the lime and heat.
It was so good, I nearly forgot about my Murder Burger.
I’ll read the rest of this review after I return from Lo Main. Bye!
Welcome back. I trust you enjoyed your meal.
I imagine you were also pleased with the prices. Think how many places in town serve mediocre burgers at hefty prices, while one of the best I’ve had costs only $10. My Arroz Con Elote was just $8, and I had to take some home.
In today’s restaurant climate, and under today’s economic conditions, that feels like a small miracle.
Taylor has since moved on to other cities and other restaurants. Too bad his opinion of Lo Main didn’t go with him.
I just hope locals who saw his video will give the place a shot and decide for themselves.
As far as I’m concerned, Lo Main is more than worthy of its viral status.
Lo Main
2315 E. Main St.
423 541-8787
Opens at 11 a.m. every day. The kitchen closes at 11 p.m. Sunday through Thursday and at midnight on Friday and Saturday. The bar closes an hour later.