Follow smell of smoky goodness to small, stand alone shack.Ħ. It’s a humble abode with a simple concept charcoaled meat on bread but can it compete with likes of sausage gravy and Maryland’s own blue crab cakes?Ĥ. Part of the difficulty of ranking DDDs, or any restaurants for that matter, if the fact that they are so different. I still call my boss “Mister”, and I’ve been working for him for seven years, but all of a sudden I walk in here and I’m calling you Rick and Sheila like we’re in some kind of AA meeting… I don’t want to be your buddy, Rick.
“Why am I calling you by your first names? I don’t even know you. I like sincere service in whatever form it comes in…just ask William D-FENS Foster: The service, at least the day I was there, was exactly what I expected they weren’t wearing suits and shining bar glasses with sheepskin bar cloths but instead they were hard working people whose moods mirror the people sitting in front of them. The decor is a mix of aboriginal artifacts, a candy shop and mildly cheesy souvenir store. Was it as good as it looked? Pretty damn close. Insanity dictated dessert, so I opted for banana cream pie. Even the minor details, from the toasting of the homemade bun to the angles of the cheese to the liberal yet not overabundant use of sauce, made this a billboard burger which ended up tasting exactly like it looked. Each ingredient was evident and identifiable. I was, however, occupied by the “It’s B.C For Me” fact-filled placemat complete with sketches of Canadian legends, facts and stories including bears, igloos and whales living in Hudson bay. I prepared myself for internal rage as I patiently waited for the arrival of another substandard burger. It was difficult choosing from the 15 choices, but I settled on the Skookum Chief Burger (Onions, lettuce, organic ground beef patty, Yukon bacon, egg, aged cheddar cheese, wiener, tomato, and Tomahawk special sauce). Despite this temptation, I had to have a burger. I turned around to see two gents eating a breakfast (which I later determined to be the mixed grill-Nine generous slices of Yukon style bacon, two country fresh eggs, fried or scrambled, two slices of Klondike toast, organic hamburger patty, aged cheddar cheese, wiener, onions and fresh sautéed mushrooms) served on a plate the size of a hubcap. After what was a hellish cab ride over the wrong Vancouver bridge, I arrived and was seated at the bar (picture an old school diner with round stools and formica counters). It features big breakfasts and great burgers. Around since the 20’s, it promises meat as organic and the leaping deer themselves. I had expected to be fooled by the propaganda of Tomahawk BBQ, which has been featured on both Diners, Drive-ins and Dives and You Gotta Eat Here. The only difference is I’m not carrying a gun or wearing a short sleeve shirt and tie. Can anybody tell me what’s wrong with this picture? Anybody? Anybody at all.”
Now, look at this sorry, miserable, squashed thing. It’s, it’s plump, it’s juicy, it’s three inches thick.
#DINER DRIVE INS AND DIVES M.E.A.T. MOVIE#
Instead, I feel like William D-FENS Foster (played by Michael Douglas in the 1993 movie Falling Down) in the fictional Whammy Burger: Succumbing to temptation, I will on occasion pull over and roll the dice on the possibility that some burger, somewhere will even slightly resemble the imagery posted roadside. Driving down a highway, I see deer jumping, wild turkeys frolicking in farmer’s field’s and large billboards features perfectly constructed burgers which are attractively stacked like luxury seafront condos.
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