The patty is the least demanding thing on the plate. Pair the toppings.
Zinfandel if there is bacon and barbecue sauce on it; a Grenache-based Côtes du Rhône if it is a plain cheeseburger. Both are ripe, generous and low enough in tannin to survive the ketchup.
A burger is not really a beef problem. The patty on its own is mild. What you are actually pairing is the sweet bun, the char, the gherkins, the sauce and whatever has been melted over the top — and those move the answer far more than the mince does.
Ketchup, relish, brioche buns and caramelised onion all bring sugar to the plate, and sugar makes a dry tannic red taste harder, drier and more bitter. That is the opposite of what a marbled steak does. A burger also arrives with a fair amount of acid — gherkins, mustard, tomato — which asks for matching acidity in the glass rather than structure.
So the qualities to hunt for are ripe fruit, gentle tannin and decent acidity. That rules out the serious bottle, which is the mistake wine lovers in particular make. I would rather drink a £10 Côtes du Rhône with a burger than a £40 Bordeaux, and that is not thrift talking: the cheaper wine is genuinely the better match, because everything you paid extra for in the Bordeaux is structure the burger cannot use.
Zinfandel by its other three names
Zinfandel was being grown in California by the 1850s, and for well over a century nobody could point to a European variety that matched it. DNA typing settled the question in two stages. In the mid-1990s the UC Davis geneticist Carole Meredith established that southern Italy's Primitivo is the same grape. Then, in December 2001, her lab and colleagues in Zagreb matched Zinfandel to cuttings taken from one grower's vineyard at Kaštel Novi on the Dalmatian coast — an all-but-extinct local variety called Crljenak Kaštelanski, of which exactly nine vines were found. Under its older Dalmatian name, Tribidrag, the grape appears in local records from at least 1518.
The practical upshot: if your shop has no Zinfandel, a Puglian Primitivo is not a substitute so much as the same grape relabelled, and it is usually cheaper.
Chill it more than feels right
Burgers get eaten in warm rooms and in gardens, and a 14.5% Zinfandel at 22°C tastes of little but alcohol. Half an hour in the fridge brings it to 15–18°C (59–64°F), where the fruit comes back.
If you fancy going lighter still, a chilled Beaujolais at 12–14°C (54–57°F) is a genuinely good burger wine — juicy, almost no tannin, and it copes with sharp toppings better than anything in the table above.
A Grenache-based Côtes du Rhône or a soft Merlot. A plain cheeseburger is mild and savoury, so you want ripe fruit and gentle tannin rather than structure.
Is Cabernet Sauvignon good with a burger?
It is the usual mistake. The sugar in ketchup, relish and the bun makes firm tannin taste harder and more bitter, so a serious Cabernet has structure it cannot use. Save it for a steak.
What wine goes with a bacon and barbecue burger?
Zinfandel. Barbecue sauce is sweet and smoky, and Zinfandel is the ripest and jammiest of the everyday reds, so it meets that sweetness instead of being flattened by it.
Is white wine ever right for a burger?
Yes, though it is a narrower fit. A full oaked Chardonnay copes with a very cheesy burger, and a dry rosé is the safest choice if there is any chilli involved.
Learn the wine in your glass
Scan any label to identify a wine, learn why it tastes the way it does, and build your palate. Free, with no in-app purchases.