A meal at Becks is a visual barrage of propaganda, from Texas Monthly kiss-ups to six-square-foot food-porn images of burgers, steaks, and chicken; even the sandwich-basket paper is striped with laudatory quotes from the Houston Press and USA Today absorbing the fry grease. Other than the occasional splash of red paint, self-promotion is this restaurant’s sole interior-decorating motif.

Still, the hype is justified. The ground beef is not Prime, as suggests the name, but it’s Choice, ground and formed in-house, well seasoned, and grilled over mesquite. Sweet buns, smeared with mayonnaise-based “Prime Sauce,” absorb the juices well. The kitchen-sink-style “Bill’s Burger” adds sautéed onions, jalapeños, bacon, cheddar, and lettuce along with that sauce, but the patty is good enough to warrant just a basic cheeseburger order.

The much-crowed-about fries are inconsistent; sometimes they’re crispy and sometimes limp. Shakes are too thick, while grilled and butterflied hot dogs are good. Burgers, although enormous, are pricy; one with fries and an iced tea costs nearly $15—not prohibitive, but definitely toeing the line. Is all the self-promotion meant to reassure sticker-shocked customers that their money has been well spent? It has. But the proof is in the basket on the table, not in the writing on the wall.