Eat the Match: USA vs Australia

Two countries that take their grilling seriously and refuse to agree on anything else.

Group Stage · Los Angeles · June 20, 2026 · Gusto

The Americans and the Australians have something in common that neither will admit: they both believe, with complete sincerity, that they invented the right way to handle a piece of meat outdoors. The Americans will tell you about the burger. The Australians will tell you about the barbie. Both are correct about the importance of the occasion and wrong about the superiority of their technique.

I have no interest in settling that argument. I have every interest in feeding you while it plays out.

For this match, I am giving you the smash burger — the American contribution to the flat-top canon — with a method that is not complicated but is absolutely unforgiving. The smash is not a metaphor. It is a physical act that happens in the first five seconds and determines everything that follows. If you do it wrong, you have a sad little patty. If you do it right, you have something the Americans call a burger and the French call une chose bien faite — a thing done correctly.

The Australian meat pie makes its appearance as the side. I will not attempt to replicate a proper pie pastry under these conditions — the crust demands time I am not giving you on a match day. What I am giving you is the filling: a properly braised beef and onion center, thick enough to hold its shape, seasoned without apology. You can fold it into a ready-made shortcrust shell and no one needs to know.

The smash burger and the Australian meat pie.

Ingredients

Method

  1. Start the pie filling first — it needs time and the burger needs none. Heat a heavy pan over medium-high. Add a splash of oil and sear the beef cubes in batches until dark on all sides. This step is not optional. A pale braise is a sad braise. Remove the beef and set aside.
  2. In the same pan, cook the diced onion over medium heat until soft and slightly golden, about 8 minutes. Add the garlic, cook one minute. Add the tomato paste, stir it in and let it cook for two minutes — you are caramelizing the paste, not just warming it. This changes the flavor completely.
  3. Sprinkle the flour over the onion mixture and stir. Add the beef back in, pour over the stock and Worcestershire. Season generously. Bring to a simmer, cover, and cook on low for 25 minutes while you build the burgers. The filling should be thick and glossy, not soupy. If it is soupy, remove the lid and reduce.
  4. For the burgers: divide your mince into 8 loose balls, roughly 85g each — do not pack them, do not season them yet. Heat your flat griddle or heaviest skillet to high. Add neutral oil, let it smoke. Place a ball on the griddle and immediately press it flat with a heavy spatula or a burger press, leaning your weight into it. You want a thin patty with ragged edges. Salt and pepper the top. Do not touch it for 90 seconds.
  5. When you see the edges turn grey halfway up the sides and the top is no longer pink in the center, flip. Immediately add one slice of cheese. Stack a second patty directly on top of the first and add a second slice of cheese. The cheese melts between the layers. This is the move.
  6. Toast the buns in butter on the same griddle. 60 seconds, cut side down, until golden. This is not decoration.
  7. Assemble. Sauce of your choice — I prefer a sharp mustard and mayonnaise situation. The onion goes on raw, beneath the double stack. Eat immediately. The burger does not wait.
  8. Spoon the hot pie filling into your pastry shells just before serving. Top with a small pastry lid if you have made the effort. Sauce — tomato or brown — on the side, as god intended.

The smash — why the crust is the point

When you press the ball flat against the hot griddle, you are forcing every gram of fat into direct contact with the surface simultaneously. This creates the Maillard reaction across the entire face of the patty in 90 seconds rather than the 4-5 minutes a rounded patty needs. The result is a deeply browned crust with lacy, caramelized edges that a rounded burger will never achieve. The thinner the patty, the more crust relative to interior. That is why two thin patties outperform one thick one every time.

On the cheese: Processed American cheese melts into a sauce. Aged cheddar does not. I am not asking you to like this. I am asking you to use the correct ingredient.

The smash is not a metaphor. It is a physical act that happens in the first five seconds and determines everything that follows.

Why two thin patties beat one thick one.

A thick burger patty has a problem: by the time the center reaches a safe temperature, the exterior has been cooking long enough to become something closer to grey leather. The solution the Americans arrived at — without any French assistance, which pains me — is to make the patty thin enough that the center cooks almost simultaneously with the surface.

Two thin patties doubles the crust. Doubles the cheese melt. Doubles the layers of Maillard-browned beef. The interior stays just barely cooked through, which at 80/20 fat content means it remains extraordinarily juicy despite being fully done.

The Australian meat pie operates on similar logic from the other direction: low and slow braise until the collagen in the beef chuck has dissolved into gelatin, thickening the sauce from the inside. The result holds its shape in the pastry without becoming dry.

Both dishes are engineering problems solved through experience. Both are correct.