International Burger Day – May 28

It may surprise you to know that while the hamburger is the shining star of American fast food, its true origins remain murky and hotly debated. Long before it became the drive-thru favorite we know today, the hamburger had a far more complex and globetrotting journey.

Believe it or not, some trace the burger’s backstory all the way to the military barracks of Genghis Khan, where Mongol horsemen supposedly carried minced meat under their saddles to soften it while they rode. Fast forward a few centuries, and minced beef shows up on German steamships docking in New York Harbor, further fueling theories about its European connections.

Despite being named after the city of Hamburg, Germany, the exact story behind the hamburger’s invention is lost in a whirl of claims and culinary folklore. The name likely derives from a dish called the “Hamburg Sausage,” which appeared in a cookbook as early as 1758. Some food historians also suggest that the Hamburg America Line, a cruise company in the mid-1800s, served passengers beef patties between bread—perhaps planting the seeds for what would become the burger we know today.

One of the strongest claims to burger fame belongs to Louis Lassen, a Danish immigrant who lived in New Haven, Connecticut. In 1900, he supposedly created the first American hamburger by serving grilled beef between two slices of bread to a customer in need of a quick meal. This fast fix earned him a spot in culinary history—at least according to fans of Louis’ Lunch.

Another competing tale centers around the 1904 St. Louis World’s Fair, where the burger was dubbed a modern food marvel. The New York Tribune described it as “the innovation of a food vendor on the pike,” further igniting its popularity among hungry fairgoers. While Louis Lassen’s burger came first, this event gave the dish a national spotlight.

Then there’s the lesser-known but intriguing story of Otto Krause, a German cook whose involvement in burger history often gets overlooked. One reason? His name appears with multiple spellings in historical records—a classic case of lost-in-translation fame.