B2A2 Updated Rankings: Every Entry Through Number Thirteen
Thirteen burgers in, the series has an argument. Here is where everything lands.
The B2A2 series started as a simple question: what is the best burger in Ann Arbor? Thirteen entries later, the question has gotten more complicated in the right ways. That is not a complaint. It means the series has found real range.
We went to Ypsilanti. We went to Detroit. We went to a James Beard semifinalist kitchen and to a steakhouse and to a counter where you specify your toppings to a cook working a flat-top right in front of you. We ate at a Cuban street food restaurant that may not technically make a burger and is almost certainly the most interesting item in the series. We visited two brewpubs and found different things at each. Thirteen entries, eleven distinct burgers to rank, one very clear top tier, and a lot of middle ground worth explaining.
Here is how everything lands.
The Rankings
The frita wins the series so far, and it wins on terms that the series had to develop vocabulary for. The chorizo-beef blend, the shoestring fries inside the bun, the eggy pressed roll: this is a burger that arrived at its form through a different tradition than everything else on the list, and the result is more interesting than anything a straight beef patty on a standard bun can accomplish. It is also the most repeatable entry in the series. I keep going back, and the burger keeps being worth it.
Echelon has held near the top since the mid-series rankings, and the argument for it has not changed. This is a James Beard semifinalist kitchen applying full intent to a bar item. The sear is precise. The bun holds. The toppings are restrained and correct. If the only criterion were technical execution, Echelon wins the series outright. What keeps it at two is that the frita is doing something the smash burger, done correctly or not, cannot do: it is a genuinely different food. Echelon is the best version of a familiar thing. Frita Batidos is an unfamiliar thing done exactly right.
The sourcing argument, stated plainly: the Grange burger tastes like beef that came from somewhere specific and was handled by a kitchen that understood what it had. The temperature was right. The toppings did not obscure the patty. The fat in the grind was distributed correctly. Grange earns the third position because it is making an argument the rest of the series is not, and the argument holds up on the plate.
The Ypsilanti entry, still the best bar burger the series has found. The wagyu makes a real difference, and the house-made bun elevates the whole thing above what you expect from a pub. Sidetrack held the top spot in the mid-series rankings, and it has since been displaced by three kitchens making more specific arguments. That is not a demotion it did anything wrong to earn.
The institution entry. You build your own burger at the counter, and what you get depends on your decisions. Sixty-plus years of this routine have produced a counter process that knows what it is. The patty is thinner than everything above it and the bun is standard, but Blimpy has fed more Ann Arbor residents than every other entry combined, and the cultural weight of that is real. The cultural weight does not change the patty. The patty is still what it is. But fifth place does not mean not worth going.
6. Raven's Club
The smash format, executed well in a dark cocktail bar. The sear has depth. The garlic aioli is the right call. The fries are better than they need to be. Raven's Club started the series and it belongs in the top half of the series. Where it falls short of Echelon is that the argument for Echelon is sharper: a higher-intent kitchen, more precise execution, a burger that feels like someone decided that this is what a burger should be. Raven's Club is a very good smash burger. Echelon is a statement.
The wood-fired brewpub entry. The oak sear gives the crust a quality that a flat-top cannot replicate, and the beer pairing at Jolly Pumpkin is the best food-and-drink match in the series. The burger is not the reason you go to Jolly Pumpkin, and that honest fact keeps it out of the top tier. It is very good. It is also the supporting character in a restaurant with a stronger headliner.
8. Grizzly Peak
The neighborhood brewpub entry: consistent, properly executed, right for the room and the pint. The burger has been made by a kitchen that has been making this burger long enough that it comes out the same every time. That is a real thing. It is not the same thing as a kitchen that has made the burger into an argument.
The steakhouse entry. The beef is better than most of what appears above it on a molecular level, in the sense that a prime beef kitchen starting from better raw material should produce a more flavorful patty. The execution reflected a kitchen that takes temperature requests seriously. The reason it lands here rather than higher: the burger at The Chop House exists for the person at the table who does not want a steak. It is correct. It is not a destination. There is a difference.
10. Sava's
The campus standby. Sava's applies full-service kitchen discipline to the burger, and the result is reliable. A reliable burger is worth something. It is not worth a special trip to State Street. Order it when you are already there, and it will not disappoint you. That is the honest ceiling for this entry.
The slider bar in Corktown where almost everything costs three dollars. The beef slider is thin, griddled with sear, and served on a soft roll. The value proposition is the strongest argument in the series: eat four sliders for $12 and you have had a more varied meal than anything else on this list. Green Dot lands eleventh not because the food is bad, but because a slider is a different thing than a burger, and this series has been careful about what those differences mean. The most interesting value argument in B2A2. The most structurally distinct entry. Worth the drive to Corktown even if it ends up ranked last.
How to Read This
A note on methodology, because the ranking above puts a $3 slider next to a James Beard semifinalist and a bar burger at a Ypsilanti pub in the same list.
The B2A2 ranking reflects two things simultaneously: what each burger does within its own context, and whether the burger itself is worth seeking out for someone who just wants a great burger. Green Dot Stables is remarkable value. It is also a slider, which is a different format with different proportions and a different eating experience, and that difference affects where it lands. Frita Batidos is not a traditional American burger. It is Cuban street food with its own lineage, and it is the most genuinely interesting item in the series, which is why it sits at the top.
A bar burger is being evaluated against a James Beard kitchen burger. The ranking does not pretend otherwise. What it tries to do is weigh both the technical quality and the ambition of the thing. Some entries are trying to be the best burger in Ann Arbor. Some are trying to be the right burger for a specific moment. The ones that do both at once are the ones in the top tier.
The Top Tier
Three entries have made the strongest argument for doing something the others cannot do.
Frita Batidos earns the top position because the frita is the only entry in the series that genuinely could not be produced by a different kitchen. The chorizo blend, the shoestring fries, the pressed bun, the sauce: these are not interchangeable components. Eve Aronoff Fernandez built this dish around a Cuban street food tradition and the result is a burger that has been winning best-burger awards in Ann Arbor for over a decade. The series started by asking whether it was really a burger. Thirteen entries in, the answer is that the question was the wrong one to ask.
Echelon belongs at two because the technical execution is the standard the rest of the series gets measured against. A wood-fired oven and a farm sourcing program are interesting. A James Beard semifinalist applying full attention to a smash burger is precision, and precision produces the most repeatable high-quality result in the series. You can go back to Echelon and get the same burger.
Grange makes it to three on the strength of an ingredient argument that actually holds up on the plate. Lots of restaurants talk about sourcing. Grange's patty demonstrates it. The fat is right. The texture is right. The temperature holds. A farm-to-table kitchen that applies the same rigor to a burger as it does to the rest of the menu earns its spot in the top tier, and Grange has earned it.
Where the Series Goes from Here
Thirteen entries is a picture, not a verdict. Entry fourteen is already being considered. There are kitchens in the region the series has not reached yet, formats it has not tested, neighborhoods it has not visited. The answer to "what is the best burger in Ann Arbor" is still not settled.
That is exactly the point.
Read the full B2A2 series: Best Burger in Ann Arbor: The Running List.