Burger Joint

Burger Joint

Almost everyone who reads blogs reads Kottke.org. In the minds of many readers (and reporters), Jason’s blog defines blogging.

Earlier this month, I remember reading Jason’s entry about a burger joint hidden in one of New York’s swankiest hotels — Le Parker Meridien: “This is one of those classic New York juxatpositions: a burgers-only greasy spoon … in a midtown four-star hotel.” Intrigued, I made a mental note of the place.

I felt more than a little deja-vu, then, when our last-minute Priceline room in NYC turned out to be at Le Parker Meridien. (Our clever bidding snagged us a forty-two percent discount on rooms, by the way.) True to form, while other members of our little travel group enthused over the hotel’s luxurious accomodations, my first thought was: “Oh! That hotel with the hamburger joint!”

Our first act upon arrival, then (a group decision, I swear), was a trek to the Burger Joint. It is, indeed, hidden; the diner lies behind a thirty foot-tall brown curtain in the otherwise opulent lobby. A narrow path leads to the entrance. Apart from a neon sculpture of a burger on the black wall by the door, there’s no signage at all.

Inside, the funky decor is “accidental by design.” Movie posters adorn the drab walls. Pyramids of dusty industrial-size cans of ketchup decorate shelves constructed from cinderblock and spare wood. An impossibly small dining room is packed with dozens of unsteady tables and worn booths.

When we were there, every seat was taken. This turned out to be a good thing, though; because we were so focused on grabbing the next available table, we barely noticed how long we stood in line to place our order.

Thanks to the simple menu, those orders were placed and filled quickly. Within minutes, we were scarfing down delightfully crafted burgers, with thick meat patties that were crisp on the outside and pale pink on the inside.

Those burgers were definitely the star of the show (as much for their price as for their quality). The fries, served in a plain brown paper bag, were good, but ordinary. The brownie, while huge, was dry and dull.

Regulars sitting next to us lamented the fact that “the secret’s out” and recalled the joint’s glory days (“You could come in at 2:00 and the entire place would be deserted!”). Those days are over … but the Burger Joint is still a delight — and a bargin, too, since that little place behind the curtain serves up lunch and an experience to be remembered for less than ten bucks a head.

Almost everyone who reads blogs reads Kottke.org. In the minds of many readers (and reporters), Jason’s blog defines blogging.

Earlier this month, I remember reading Jason’s entry about a burger joint hidden in one of New York’s swankiest hotels — Le Parker Meridien: “This is one of those classic New York juxatpositions: a burgers-only greasy spoon … in a midtown four-star hotel.” Intrigued, I made a mental note of the place.

I felt more than a little deja-vu, then, when our last-minute Priceline room in NYC turned out to be at Le Parker Meridien. (Our clever bidding snagged us a forty-two percent discount on rooms, by the way.) True to form, while other members of our little travel group enthused over the hotel’s luxurious accomodations, my first thought was: “Oh! That hotel with the hamburger joint!”

Our first act upon arrival, then (a group decision, I swear), was a trek to the Burger Joint. It is, indeed, hidden; the diner lies behind a thirty foot-tall brown curtain in the otherwise opulent lobby. A narrow path leads to the entrance. Apart from a neon sculpture of a burger on the black wall by the door, there’s no signage at all.

Inside, the funky decor is “accidental by design.” Movie posters adorn the drab walls. Pyramids of dusty industrial-size cans of ketchup decorate shelves constructed from cinderblock and spare wood. An impossibly small dining room is packed with dozens of unsteady tables and worn booths.

When we were there, every seat was taken. This turned out to be a good thing, though; because we were so focused on grabbing the next available table, we barely noticed how long we stood in line to place our order.

Thanks to the simple menu, those orders were placed and filled quickly. Within minutes, we were scarfing down delightfully crafted burgers, with thick meat patties that were crisp on the outside and pale pink on the inside.

Those burgers were definitely the star of the show (as much for their price as for their quality). The fries, served in a plain brown paper bag, were good, but ordinary. The brownie, while huge, was dry and dull.

Regulars sitting next to us lamented the fact that “the secret’s out” and recalled the joint’s glory days (“You could come in at 2:00 and the entire place would be deserted!”). Those days are over … but the Burger Joint is still a delight — and a bargin, too, since that little place behind the curtain serves up lunch and an experience to be remembered for less than ten bucks a head.

Mark McElroy

I'm a husband, mystic, writer, media producer, creative director, tinkerer, blogger, reader, gadget lover, and pizza fiend.

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Who Wrote This?

Mark McElroy

I'm a husband, mystic, writer, media producer, creative director, tinkerer, blogger, reader, gadget lover, and pizza fiend.

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