Post #8 JM Curley, Boston, MA

JM Curley
21 Temple Place
Boston, MA 02111
jmcurleyboston.com

The facade of JM Curley, in the Downtown Crossing section of Boston, looks like a setting from a Ben Afleck mob movie. It is austere and eerie, to a point where being gunned down on the sidewalk seems entirely plausible. Inside, the vibe is less dodgy, but only slightly. On the afternoon I was there, Jay Z was in a foul mood on the box and PBR was served in cans. A handful of urban denizens lingered at scattered tables and a miasma of the previous night's debauchery clung to everything. 

A storefront you wouldn't want to linger in front of.

I sat at the bar nursing a beer while waiting for Scott. He was a half hour late and I wondered if he had tired of being fodder for Happy Burger. I hoped not, as his unexpected antics make these posts easy to write. I called his cell and hung up when I got his voice mail. Just as I was about to order, he barged through the door wearing a fake cop's hat with attached dreadlocks.

"No worries, mon...I'm here!"

Okay, it was Halloween, but I didn't expect it; and just like that two paragraphs were written.

Similar to Happy Burger, JM Curley doesn't take itself too seriously. Reading the house rules on a chalk board above the bar had told me so:

NO COVETING THY NEIGHBOR'S DRINK

NO SHRIEKING OR BELLOWING

NO GROPING OR GRAB ASSING

NO FOUL LANGUAGE

Scott took a seat at the bar, pointed to the chalk board, and bellowed: "WHAT'S WITH THE FUCKING SIGN?" He then eyed my beer thirstily while waiting for his own to arrive. 

The girl behind the bar wore a powder blue mini dress with bobby socks and patent leather shoes. A clip in her hair kept her locks pulled to the side. An identical outfit was worn by one of the waitresses, and later we'd learn they were dressed as the Grady twins from the movie The Shining. Rastafarian Peace Officer Scott took an immediate shine to the bartender. After receiving his beer, he tipped his cop's hat her way and asked if she had a thing for men in uniform. I braced for a grab assing.

Curley's is a casual place, but our research had shown them to be serious about their house burger, which is topped with griddled onions, cheddar, Pop's Russian dressing and pickles. A 5 ounce version is served at lunch, a 9 ouncer at dinner. Either way, the research proved correct as ounce for ounce these burgers are delicious. At the risk of ruining the suspense, the lunch burgers we ate during our first visit rivaled any we've had. The burger was so good, we ordered a second after finishing the first, and we haven't stopped thinking about either.

Curley's amazingly delicious house burger

Discussing the merits of the first burger, Nicole the bartender said it was the combination of homemade Russian dressing and homemade pickles that set it apart from others. Scott thought the generously salted and peppered patty was the key. I liked the burger's unpretentious, simple construction. Served on the incomparable Piantedosi roll, it arrived on a tin plate with a big glob of spicy slaw next to it. The burger itself carried some heat, but like the slaw it wasn't over-spiced. It just had an unexpected bite to it. Like Scott.

Nicole asked if we wanted the second burger "Filthy Andy" style, which meant topped with slaw and fries. Smothering that near perfect burger with French fries seemed silly, but we did add some of the spicy slaw when the plates arrived. After first bite, Scott pounded his fist on the bar and shrieked, "HOLY SHIT, NICOLE, THAT'S A MOTHER FUCKING AWESOME BURGER!" 

The last rule on the chalk board above the bar at JM Curley states, "JUST DON'T BE A DOUCHEBAG." Perhaps they have a liberal definition, because after hearing Scott's praise, Grady twin Nicole poured the three of us a shot on the house. 

I was pretty sure she wouldn't get the ax for it.

Score: 9.3 out of 10 napkins.