That Time I Brought Home In-N-Out Burgers for Nana

Unlike Shake Shack, In-N-Out isn’t coming to Hawai‘i anytime soon. So I vowed my 84-year-old Nana would get a taste of its full and complete glory.

1 hour ago

Kayla Luke Colon,

Photo: Kayla Luke Colon

Ten In-N-Out burgers. One beefy carry-on bag. 2,500 miles across the Pacific. My mom’s friend was telling us about her recent haul from California.

“Was it still good?” we asked.

“Surprisingly, yes,” she said. “It tasted exactly the same.”

That was when my mom looked over and casually dropped a bombshell.

“Your Nana has never had In-N-Out.”

My Nana is a Chinese-Hawaiian woman who hasn’t left O‘ahu in more than 15 years. She is perfectly content spending time with her grandchildren and eating local food. California’s most iconic burger simply never crossed her path. A mission was born. I would bring back an In-N-Out burger on my next visit home from college.

For those unfamiliar, an In-N-Out cheeseburger is a beautiful thing. A soft toasted bun. A juicy beef patty fresh off the grill. Melted American cheese draped over the edges. Crisp iceberg lettuce that’s “hand-leafed,” according to In-N-Out’s website. Slices of fresh tomato and sweet onions. And the famous sauce—tangy, creamy and slightly sweet, it ties everything together in perfect harmony.

Months later, the day arrived. Before heading to the airport, I stopped at In-N-Out and ordered five cheeseburgers with toppings on the side to prevent sogginess. I asked for extra sauce packets.

Then I packed my five burgers and separated toppings into a plastic bag and placed it in an insulated lunch pail with two ice packs. The photo evidence went to my family.

Photo: Kayla Luke Colon

My burger-filled carry-on and I sailed through TSA and boarded the six-hour flight to Honolulu.

The first hour was uneventful as I kept watch over the precious cargo under the seat in front of me. At hour two, I opened my bag to pull out a book and was immediately engulfed in a cloud of onions and grilled beef. I spent the rest of the flight worrying that the girl sitting next to me thought I’d skipped on deodorant.

Finally, Honolulu came into view. My parents picked me up, and we headed straight to Nana’s house.

This was it. At age 84, Nana would experience the complete and full glory of an In-N-Out burger. She waited patiently as I unpacked burgers, buns and the carefully separated toppings. Then a terrible realization hit.

There was no sauce. The secret weapon. The unifying finishing touch. It was nowhere to be found. In-N-Out forgot the sauce, and I forgot to check for it.

I could feel my mother’s disappointment radiating across the room. But Nana was a good sport. She carefully reheated her burger, added the toppings and took a bite.

“Well,” she said, “it tastes like a burger. A good one.”

Not exactly the life-changing review I had imagined the whole flight home. My mission was a failure.

“I can’t believe you forgot the sauce.” My mom was staring at me. “That’s the most important part!” Then and there, she vowed that next time she visited California, she would complete the mission herself.

This time, I know for sure Nana’s getting extra sauce.