Over 100K votes cast in Indy's Best Burger Bracket. See who won.

After four rounds, more than 100,000 votes and some strongly worded feedback, IndyStar’s Burger and Fries Bracket Challenge is complete.

Capping off a dominant run, No. 3-seeded Flamme Burger defeated No. 1 317 Burger 7,972 votes to 1,341. The five-time Indy Burger Battle champion showed no mercy through four matchups, crushing its competition by an average of 6,789 votes. Even owner Henri Najem, who sent the bracket to thousands of customers, said he was surprised by the gap.

I’m not here to relitigate Najem’s or any other restaurateur’s campaign strategy. I’ve been far too busy with something much more important: eating burgers.

Every restaurant is someone’s favorite for a reason. I recently visited some fan-favorite Indy burger joints, searching for the cause between pillowy brioche buns.

Is Flamme Burger truly the best? How many cheeseburgers in one week is too many? Does anyone else feel a little lightheaded?

Here’s what I learned in my search for Indianapolis’ one true Hampion.

One snub probably should have made the bracket

After we unveiled the bracket, multiple readers emailed me insisting I visit Smash’d Burger Bar, which opened last summer at 10 Johnson Ave. in Irvington and did not make it into the competition.

The menu is small but deceptively varied, with toppings like pineapple, honey-roasted peanut butter and Tajín. At owner Jared Showers’ recommendation, I opted for the Aristocrat: grilled mushrooms and onions, garlic aioli and Swiss cheese. I ordered mine with two patties, bringing the damage to $12 and an unknown amount of arterial plaque.

A poorly constructed smash burger feels like a cruel experiment to determine how much slop can be crammed between two buns before it ceases to be a burger. In the Aristocrat, the ingredients complement each other yet remain texturally distinct.

A light kick of garlic hits you in between bites of faintly vegetal mushrooms and sweet onions. Griddle-seared beef crunches at the patty’s edges but becomes heartier as you approach the center. Whatever doesn't reach your mouth can easily be scooped up with some featherlight, crispy sweet potato fries ($5).

If you like thin patties and a little funk, Smash’d is worth a visit. The myriad toppings threaten analysis paralysis, but that’s just the cross a curious eater must bear.

Workingman’s Friend is exactly what you think

234 N. Belmont Ave., (317) 636-2067

After 106 years, there isn’t much new to say about Workingman’s Friend, which fell to 317 Burger in the Frynal Four. Those who love the cash-only Near Westside staple will defend it tirelessly, while its detractors will insist it’s overrated.

Balancing precariously between bready buns are patties smashed so thin you can see through the lacy edges, sheets of caution tape-yellow American cheese, unforgivingly bitey onions and a grease trap of shredded lettuce.

The double cheeseburger's middle bun feels like a wild amount of bread for such thin patties, but you can order yours without it. I’m almost positive that would not be considered outright heresy.

The restaurant itself, which looks so intensely Middle American it could be a period piece movie set, seems to imbue the food with a little extra flavor. It’s not my absolute favorite burger in town, but it’s hard to walk out and not feel like more of a Hoosier.

317 Burger deserved second place — or better

915 E. Westfield Blvd., (317) 251-1317, 317burger.com

My trip to 317 Burger in Broad Ripple reminded me of childhood stops at fast-casual family restaurants — unparalleled luxury to a 9-year-old — where my dad would let me order a too-big burger that was hardly gourmet yet made me feel like a king.

Per owner Bill Ficca’s suggestion, I ordered 317’s Strawberry Hill burger: a half-pound Black Angus patty, habanero and ghost pepper cheese, bacon, peanut butter and spiced strawberry compote ($15).

The patty is a mouthful, but not so thick that you have to go full anaconda to get your jaw around it. The beef is juicy, not excessively greasy, and readily crumbles apart as you chew. Rather than overwhelm your palate, the toppings simply sneak in hints of sweetness and heat. Paired with lip-puckeringly salty skin-on fries, the burger tastes unpretentious and classic in a way no dish featuring the word “compote” has any right to be.

I know I’m eating a great burger when my stomach hurts a little and my hands are a mess, yet I can’t fathom putting it down. Once I picked up the Strawberry Hill, it rarely returned to the tray.

Flamme Burger’s award-winning technique is literally patented

8487 Union Chapel Road, (317) 436-1929, flammeburger.net

There’s a trace of mad science in every creation at Flamme Burger (pronounced “flame”), which Najem opened in Fishers in 2015 before moving to Keystone at the Crossing in 2018. In the year before Flamme opened, Najem experimented with 52 different beef blends — the final iteration features brisket, ground chuck and a little short rib — and developed his own patented grill. Patties char on V-shaped slats, dripping grease onto oak chips that send up ribbons of smoke and fire.

The burgers at Flamme are thick. Messy, too. The signature Flamme burger comes draped in applewood-smoked bacon, Swiss cheese and a tangy house sauce. A handful of serrano peppers complete the fiery motif.

A few bites in and the bottom bun is fighting for its life. The Flamme — a beautiful nine-napkin nightmare that somehow gets each flavor across through the saucy carnage — will make you wish you were the kind of person who carries around a Tide stick. Lip-prickling peppers and zesty aioli might be too much on a different burger, but the fatty short rib here offers a welcome counterbalance. The rustic, garlicky skin-on fries are perfect for any sauce-related damage control.

Whether or not his burgers are the best in Indianapolis, Najem is unquestionably meticulous. No ingredient feels like an afterthought in Flamme’s kitchen, probably the closest thing I’ve seen to NASA's Houston Mission Control Center.

“I got consumed by it honestly, just trying to create the best burger,” Najem said.

With so many different toppings and regional styles around, identifying the best burger is a bit of a fool’s errand. Where some are drawn to thick burgers with minimal additions, others prefer thin patties stacked amid a Cheesecake Factory menu’s worth of toppings. Both can be thrillingly delicious.

I know the bracket didn’t go how everyone wanted — that's inevitable with a competition — but hopefully it pointed you toward something new to try. Steak or smashed, flame-grilled or griddle-seared, classic or gourmet, the best burger is whichever one you get to eat next.

Contact dining reporter Bradley Hohulin at [email protected]. You can follow him on Twitter/X @BradleyHohulin.

This article originally appeared on Indianapolis Star: This burger was voted Indy's favorite — but is it really the best?