It’s big. Monstrously big. A colossus, really.
It smolders with that special glint of bygone Hollywood glamour.
And dear lord, is this thing ever beautiful.
Since that rules out that Attack of the 50-Foot Marilyn Monroe grotesquerie currently flashing unsuspecting tourists on Michigan Avenue, it must be this...
The enormous burger you’ll soon be demanding at 25 Degrees, an LA transplant that, starting Monday, turns an old Chicago blues club into a late-night burger and boozy shake shack. (Note: “shack” had a very different meaning in Old Hollywood. “Boozy” did not.)
No, it isn’t yet another bar with a sideline in burgers. Well, strike that. It kind of is. They do have burgers—big, fat nine-ouncers that you’ll customize via dozens of toppings (e.g., jalapeño bacon), sauces (e.g., garlic parmesan) and 15 kinds of good cheeses (e.g., not Velveeta).
But picture a place where Bogie and Bacall would hole up in a red leather booth while she nibbled french fries off his plate—obviously, you’re Bogie in this scenario, and the fries are, naturally, bacon-wrapped dates. Or picture a bar where John Wayne swaggers in after a hard day on the set, slams his fist down and demands a Guinness milkshake.
It’s the part you were born to play.