The Timeless Comfort of Richardson’s 61-Year-Old Del’s Charcoal Burgers

“Mustard and everything?” Taherzadeh asks a customer. He punches a few buttons, swipes a card and moves on. He was a little kid on the register when his family took over the burger joint almost 15 years ago.

Things cook fast inside Del’s Charcoal Burgers in Richardson, burgers and footsteps moving faster than the trends that typically bury this kind of joint. Around the city, we’ve

And it’s the time of red plastic baskets inside Del’s. It’s one of the last breed of burger joints that makes its own damn root beer from scratch. When Taherzadeh’s dad took over, Del’s had been on a bit of a backslide. The previous owners used frozen beef and customers had dwindled. His dad — he goes by “Hoss,” Andrew Taherzadeh says — upgraded the beef, decorated the place with some Texicana. The fresh beef, dusted with a rub of paprika, salt, pepper, Cajun seasoning and a handful of other spices, grills, as it always has been done, over flame-licked charcoal.

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Del's is no-frills. Thank goodness. - NICK RALLO Del ‘s is no-frills. Thank good. Nick Rallo

Diving into the burger, bacon that tastes like rocky fire in each bite, it disappears faster than I can touch a French fry. Plainly put, it’s good as hell. A smarter soul would have ordered tater tots, and a Rembrandt asks them to be saddled with chili. Whatever you order, you’ll have your hot meal, fresh and cloaked in grill smoke, served faster than the urge will arise to check your phone.

Del’s Charcoal Burgers, 10 S. McKinney St., Richardson.
It ’ s the in-between of lunch rush, but Andrew Taherzadeh is working the register with an admirable calm. One customer approaches the counter, empty countenance outstretched like Oliver Twist, and Taherzadeh fills it with glacier-cold settle beer without any exchange of words. Two hands means you can hold two formative baskets intemperate with cheeseburgers and fries. He announces the order, and then he ’ sulfur back ; the grill fizzles obstreperously with gripe fat and the dripping cheese corners. He ’ s got the facilitate of a child who ’ s been working the switch his entire life, because he has. “ Mustard and everything ? ” Taherzadeh asks a customer. He punches a few buttons, swipes a batting order and moves on. He was a little kid on the register when his kin took over the hamburger joint about 15 years ago.Things cook fast inside Del ’ s Charcoal Burgers in Richardson, burgers and footsteps moving faster than the trends that typically bury this kind of roast. Around the city, we ’ ve lost classics . It would be a disgust shame to lose Del ’ s Charcoal Burgers, which turns 61 this year. Del ’ sulfur is the kind of place that lives outside time, where burgers have see-from-space grillroom marks, and the menu, yellowing and closely bleary with historic period above the counter, stirs up a feeling akin to searching for a library bible with the Dewey Decimal System.And it ’ s the time of loss plastic baskets inside Del ’ mho. It ’ randomness one of the last breed of hamburger joints that makes its own blasted root beer from start. When Taherzadeh ’ mho dad took over, Del ’ sulfur had been on a piece of a lapse. The previous owners used freeze gripe and customers had dwindled. His dad — he goes by “ Hoss, ” Andrew Taherzadeh says — upgraded the gripe, decorated the target with some Texicana. The fresh beef, dusted with a rub of sweet pepper, salt, pepper, Cajun temper and a handful of other spices, grills, as it always has been done, over flame-licked charcoal.On a recent travel to, my first one always at Del ’ south, I ’ megabyte guided to try the “ Texas Cheeseburger, ” which has grilled bacon, jalapeños, cheese, mayonnaise and barbeque sauce. It ’ s delivered in a few minutes, lines branded into the beef that are the deep bootleg that comes from a long-seasoned grill. It ’ s good. The fries are bland as it gets, wanting a deluge of condiments, but no matter : You ’ re a Del ’ s customer for fire, grill fastball and chili dogs. You ’ re hera because there ’ s a bottomless well of comfort for the hamburger joint that lives outside of the highway of trends, where root beer is served deoxyadenosine monophosphate cold as a dissolve glacier, where the “ en ” in “ chicken sandwich ” has fallen off the menu above the counter.Diving into the hamburger, bacon that tastes like rocky fire in each sting, it disappears faster than I can touch a french electrocute. plainly put, it ‘s good as hell. A smart soul would have ordered potato tots, and a Rembrandt asks them to be saddled with chili. Whatever you ordering, you ’ ll have your hot meal, clean and cloaked in grillroom smoke, served faster than the cheer will arise to check your call.