BrickHouse Craft Burger's menu reads like a joke board — Best Damn Craft Burger, She's a Brickhouse, No 'Effin' Way, The G.O.A.T., 50 Shades of Blue, Hello Gorgeous — but the build under each name takes itself seriously. Patties are hand-pressed from fresh AAA chuck and cooked to order, and the kitchen lists 40 Creek BBQ sauce, house-made crispy onion strings, smoked bacon, and goat cheese alongside the punchlines. The restaurant sits on Simcoe Street in downtown Peterborough, a burger-and-beer establishment that has been working the same corner since 2012 and treats the comfort-food side as a craft rather than a default.
The burger board is where the personality lives. Best Damn Craft Burger leans on house-made barbecue pulled pork, 40 Creek BBQ sauce, Jack cheese, and crispy onion strings, and She's a Brickhouse keeps that crispy-onion thread under cheddar, BBQ sauce, and smoked bacon. No 'Effin' Way tops a patty with house-made mac and cheese, cheddar, and Hickory Sticks; The G.O.A.T. brings goat cheese, mushrooms, smoked bacon, and 40 Creek; the Peanut Butter Burger is exactly what it says it is. Beyond and Impossible plant-based patties slot into the same combos for diners who want the format without the beef. Around the burgers, the menu has real range: Single Wings by the pound, Brickhouse Poutine, an 'Effing' Mac 'n' Cheese Poutine, Peterborough Spicy Chicken Poutine, Fish Tacos, Dill Pickle Tacos, Beer Battered Fish & Chips, Maple Glazed Salmon, the Peterborough Club sandwich, and a Bringin' The House peanut-butter-and-OREO milkshake to land the meal.
The weekly calendar is what makes the bar side a regular destination rather than an after-burger garnish. Tuesday takes twenty percent off all appetizers; Wednesday runs wings at half price; Thursday packs wings and fries into a thirteen-dollar combo; Friday pairs ribs and wings at nineteen; Saturday drops wings to ninety-nine cents apiece; Sunday closes the week with a domestic pint and a pound of wings for seventeen ninety-nine, or a pitcher and two pounds for thirty-four. Brick House Lager and Pilsner sit at four ninety-nine every day from eleven-thirty in the morning to nine at night. That rhythm gives the restaurant seven different reasons to walk through the door, depending on the night and the appetite.
What sits behind the menu is built for that traffic. Ninety seats on the main floor, twelve at the bar, and a thirty-two-seat street-side patio give the dining room three different places to land, and twenty big-screen TVs plus seventeen beers on tap put the sports-bar register inside an actual burger restaurant rather than a sports lounge with food bolted on. Karaoke and live-music nights line up with the later closes on Friday and Saturday. Owner Steve Stewart is the public name behind the door; local reporting credits him with building the restaurant's own ordering app and directing part of the savings toward a local disability council — the kind of operating-side decision that reads clearly to regulars even when the menu does not advertise it.
Monday is the only night BrickHouse takes off. The rest of the week opens at eleven-thirty in the morning and runs to nine on weekdays, ten on Friday and Saturday, and nine on Sunday — the schedule of a restaurant that wants the lunch table, the post-work pint, and the wing-night dinner inside the same six days. Pickup, delivery, dine-in, and table booking all sit on the same ordering page alongside a SAVE10 discount for online pickup, so the kitchen reaches the table and the front step from one menu. Fourteen years into the Simcoe Street corner, the same hand-pressed chuck is still on the grill, and the same wing calendar is still printed on the door.