When we say “their version,” what we mean is that there are wood-fire ovens, a full bar and a very large wall of wine bottles. Your banquette can be curtained off, for full burger-eating privacy, and is equipped with a roaring fireplace in the form of a flat-screen showing a roaring fireplace.
Now, to food things...
The Classic Burger’s much different from the Spotted Pig or Breslin ones.
This one more resembles a Big Mac, as forged by Michelangelo from beef raised on enchanted pasturelands, cheese that melts into every last crag of patty and pickle chips hand-ridged by Scandinavian artisans, smothered in a sauce so special that all the kindergarten teachers in the land couldn’t praise it enough, and nestled between sesame seed buns that sprang forth from the Hindu god Vishnu.*
There’s a Filet-O-Fish, too.
Instead of “fish,” it’s made with tempura-style fluke and topped with tartar.
The hot dog is almost a sacrilege to the concept of a hot dog.
In that the house-smoked beauty is almost too good-looking to be considered a hot dog. It’s got dill sprigs. Dill sprigs, we say.
They’re thick enough to necessitate those giant bubble tea straws. If you want boozy, try the grasshopper. If not, there’s a toasted-marshmallow variety complete with the eponymous toasted marshmallow on top.
There are pies.
It—it just keeps going. Just look at it all.