Welcome to the best burger in town. Hidden behind red velvet curtains inside the swank Midtown hotel Le Paker Meridien, is this staged hole in the wall, complete with fake wood paneling and vinyl booths. The menu and ordering instructions are written on cardboard, and you better be ready to roll by the time you make it to the counter (by that point you will have been in line for ten minutes, minimum). Nonetheless, this is well worth the long wait and jockeying for a seat. Sit down with a burger, fries that come in a brown paper bag, and a pitcher of beer. No talking.
I once saw a man at Shake Shack, dressed in a suit and setting a formal table. On the small metal table he placed a white tablecloth, fine silverware, a candle, and some flowers. For a moment, I was overcome with joy at the beautiful event that was about to unfold before me … this man was about to propose to a burger.
Unfortunately, a woman soon arrived and the man instead professed his undying love for her. Nonetheless, I was inspired, and had learned something important. I now realized that I could live a fulfilled and happy life devoted to a single hamburger – The Shack Burger.
There are two lessons to be learned from this story. First, Shake Shack is the burger by which all other New York City burgers are to be measured. This is hamburger perfection, and the epic lines are the only thing preventing weekly Infatuation visits. Second, there is a huge badass somewhere out there that proposed to his girlfriend over a burger and fries. Well done sir.
“Selling out” will always be a hotly debated topic. Growing up, my friends and I would spend hours arguing about whether or not our favorite bands were sellouts. Green Day, Rancid, Bad Religion, all bands that were supposed to be so punk, yet signed on with a major label at one point in their careers. Were they sellouts? To a 16 year old, absolutely. But looking back, can you really blame them for trying to make some money? After all, music is a business just like everything else. Is LeBron James a sellout? Hells yes. Sure, he took less money to play in Miami, but LeBron’s selling out doesn’t have to do with the green stuff. Not only did he sell out the city of Cleveland, he sold out his own legacy and all the fans he fooled into believing he had the make up and desire to be one of the greatest players of all time and lead his own team to a championship.
Now on to restaurants. Is Danny Meyer a sellout for popping out Shake Shacks faster than The Duggars pop out Mormon children? Nope, he’s just an opportunistic businessman flippin’ burgers in a silly hat, Reel Big Fish style. Shacks are multiplying at record speed, across NYC and beyond. Meyer just opened a Miami Beach Shake Shack, and has plans for Washington DC, Saratoga Springs, Boston and Dubai. We’re happy to report that this increase in quantity has had no ill effects on the quality. In fact, this Double Shack Burger I recently took down at the Times Square location was hands down the best Shack Burger I’ve ever had in my life.
Be aware going in, Shake Shack Times Square is quite the tourist attraction. As you might expect, that means insane lines, loud music and all kinds of Euros In Crazy Outfits. Good for them. Now all those tourists who fail to make it out of Times Square on their trip can actually get at least one taste of what this city is all about. Nicely done Danny. It doesn’t matter what Johnny Quest thinks, the only thing selling out at Shake Shack Times Square is the merchandise they can’t keep in stock.
History. Corner Bistro is filled with it, especially for Immaculate Infatuation. To fully understand why we back the Bistro so hard, we need to drop a little Infatuation history lesson.
Before it was the name of this website, the name Immaculate Infatuation belonged to a made up British rock band that my college friends and I dressed up as for Halloween one year. Check the pic, we were a bad ass rock-n-roll shred machine. Think Guns N’ Roses meet a British version of Motley Crue. The town of Ithaca, NY will never fully recover from that night. After the band retired, Immaculate Infatuation lived on as my fantasy football team name. Luckily, Diddy rejected it as a suggestion for Making the Band 4’s group name, and when Stang and I needed to figure out what to call our new venture, the choice was obvious.
Just as we were swearing ourselves off the Meatpacking District for good, Bill’s Bar & Burger opens its doors and drags us right back in. Bill’s took over the space that used to be the Hog Pit, and even though we had a handful of good nights there somewhere around 2003, it was time for something new. Luckily, what took over the space is not another nightclub with a chef or restaurant with a DJ, but rather an excellent burger joint reminiscent of the great middle-of-nowhere dives around the country.
Bill’s burgers are griddle-top masterpieces with a low profile and a soft sesame seed bun, and they‘re definitely one of the best burgers in town. Variations on the standard include a burger with Anaheim chiles and an excellent homage to the In-N-Out classic. The prices are middle-of-nowhere cheap, and the service is laid back and friendly. We were especially pleased to find two well placed flat screens in the bar – perfect for discreetly watching a game while you house a burger or two.
At the end of the day, it’s probably a good thing for our health that Bill’s didn’t open in a neighborhood that we visit more frequently. Plus, that central Meatpacking location will make them a mint feeding all the drunks before they hop back in the limo and text their friends from a phone they dropped in the toilet. We’ll save our visits for afternoons.
