Post # 13 Atria Restaurant/Brick Cellar Bar

Atria Restaurant/Brick Cellar Bar
137 Main St.
Edgartown, MA 02539
atriamv.com

Of the many things I enjoy doing on Martha's Vineyard, several culinary outings have become "must dos" summer after summer. Sipping a Mermaid Farm Blueberry Lassie while watching the bulls in their morning pasture across Middle Road is one. Eating a cheeseburger smothered in Barbie Fenner's JD sauce on The Galley's back deck is another (see Post # 9 ). Slurping shucked clams with my wife on the sun-drenched docks behind Menemsha Fish Market never sucks; and imbibing in at least one but no more than three Holy Water martinis at the Park Corner Bistro is always a high point.

Hmm...a martini blog? Now that could be fun.

  

Surf

Turf

Mirth

   














This past summer I experienced a culinary curiosity to add to my traditions.

Have you ever eaten a McDonald's Big Mac and felt disgusting afterward--or disgusted with yourself? To a point where you need a shower but know that no amount of absolution will cleanse you of your indulgences? What if you could experience the salty, greasy, sinful taste of a Big Mac without the emotional disgust or physical damage?

That's the concept of the McRip Off Burger, developed by Christian Thornton, chef/owner of Edgartown's Atria Restaurant. The McRip Off is one of many burgers Thornton offers in Atria's Brick Cellar Bar downstairs, and it is as close to a guilt-free, farm-to-table Big Mac as you will find...as oxymoronic as that sounds.

The sign out front upscale Atria Restaurant. For killer burgers, head downstairs.

Chef Thornton with his favorite blogger

The McRip Off and the Big Mac are similar in that each features (chant with me, people) two-all-beef-patties-special-sauce-lettuce-cheese-pickles-onions-on-a-sesame-seed-bun. But the
marketing mantra, and surprisingly comparable tastes, are where the similarities end. While a Big Mac's meat is of dubious age and make-up, the two, four-ounce patties of the McRip Off are made from super fresh, hand-formed, 80/20 Angus beef. While a Big Mac's tomatoes are tasteless. lettuce listless and onions without odor, the McRip features farm fresh Martha's Vineyard produce whenever available. While a Big Mac's pickles are generic and special sauce nothing special, Atria makes its own pickles and sauce, and both are pretty special. Thornton has brought a chef's sensibilities to engineering the burger; so while a Big Mac is an assembly-line atrocity compiled by dazed high schoolers, the McRip Off is a handcrafted masterpiece prepared by serious chefs who love and respect food. When the ingredients are combined, the McRip Off tastes curiously like a Big Mac, but it does so while being fresh, authentic and clean.

OMG...this burger. Holy Shit.

I enjoyed two McRip Offs this summer: one with Scott, who introduced me to it after one but no more than three Holy Waters, and another with my glutenista wife Alicia, who sat patiently over a plate of goat cheese and portabellas as I burgasmed on a bar stool. The salt and grease components were high and spot on, the yellow American cheese was melted perfectly over the vegetable trifecta, and the Fireking Bakery bun was the quintessential burger girdle. Simply put, the eating experiences were ambrosial.

The only drawback to the McRip Off might be its name. At 19 bucks a pop, I don't want a hint of being McRipped off while I'm Loving It. After all, the price tag is almost three times that of a JD Burger and twice as much as a dozen shucked clams. But no matter how many clams it costs, the McRip Off is a hundred times better than a Big Mac, and comes with a psychological Get Out Of Jail Free card. Not to mention a generous helping of crispy, salty fries.

And besides, this is Edgartown we're talking about. By that measuring stick, the McRip Off is worth every penny. And worthy of inclusion in anybody's MV traditions.

Score: 9.3 out of 10 Napkins

Post # 12 Tommy's Original Hamburgers

Tommy's Original Hamburgers

2575 W. Beverly Blvd.

Los Angeles, CA

originaltommys.com

Happy Burger has been on sabbatical the past few months and over that time a handful of people (okay, two) have inquired about our absence. With such validation, I'm compelled to fire up the blog again. I've recently returned from a family vacation in LA where I scarfed a memorable burger, so it's fitting to feature it here.

Our son Spencer was unable to join us for the trip, which left our family's 50/50, male/female balance out of whack. I loved traveling with the girls, but the estrogen-heavy environment quickly became apparent. Hearing phrases like, "We need to buy a curling iron!" and "I can't go to the beach until my nails are dry!" and  "We need to buy a straightening iron!" became commonplace.

The learning curve: Wet nails = pool. Dry nails = beach

My minority status was most obvious when voting on places to eat. Alicia is gluten-free and our daughter Chace threatens to become a vegetarian almost daily, so dining on sushi and salads became the norm. By the morning of day four I was more than ready for a burger.

A friend of the blog who knew of our trip had told me of a place called Tommy's Original Hamburgers, so I gave it a Google. Tommy's is a West Coast chain with thirty-five locations, but the original ramshackle shack that started it all, in 1946, continues to be the company's most popular venue. The place is fairly famous, having been featured in several movies over its sixty year run. Celebrities of film, TV, sports and politics all frequent the place, along with a colorful array of LA denizens and tourists. It is open 24/7/365 and offers little beyond burgers and dogs, all topped with a healthy ladle of chili unless requested otherwise. Everything is insanely cheap, and best of all, the shack is located just a couple of miles from where we were staying, at the corner of Beverly and Rampart Boulevards. The more I read about Tommy's, the more I had to experience it.

I quickly devised a breakfast plan to satisfy all palates: a stop at Tommy's for a chili burger for moi, followed by a trip to a gluten-free crepe place in Westwood for Alicia, and ending with a short walk into the shadow of UCLA to Stan's Donuts or Diddy Riese Ice Cream & Cookies (each famous in its own right) for a treat for Chace.

By the time the girls were up and primped and out of the hotel it was close to ten, and upon reaching Tommy's a line had formed as straight as Chace's hair down Rampart Blvd. People were smiling and talking in the queue while others stood at outdoor counters devouring chili burgers, chili dogs and chili fries. The girls voiced amazement that anyone would eat chili anything at 10 AM. I felt a sense of belonging and quickly joined the line.

Hanging with my brethren at the corner of Beverly and Rampart

The line moved fast and the middle-aged woman taking orders was uncommonly polite. This surprised me, as food shack workers aren't known for their patience. Decades ago I had visited a popular hot dog stand in Wells, Maine called Flo's. Flo's was legendary Down East, mostly because of its ornery owner, Flo. She was a big woman who looked like somebody's mamma you'd have trouble throwing from a train. She insulted whoever ordered a hot dog prepared any way but hers, (boiled, topped with celery salt and mayo) and was rumored to have pulled a shot gun on someone suggesting she expand her menu beyond dogs. During my visit I was unarmed, so I played it safe and ordered a couple of celery dogs. But I made the mistake of asking for milk to drink. Flo slammed a half-pint carton on the counter and snarled at me to sniff it first because only losers drink milk and I was the first loser in the place for some time.

As fun as all that sounds, I liked the welcoming vibe at Tommy's, which was shared by staff and patrons alike. All walks of life were represented in the queue...Rich, Poor, Black, White, Latino, Middle Eastern, Asian, Male, Female, Young, Old...and all had a simple, common bond: a desire to experience a delicious, artery clogging Tommy burger or dog.

Tommy's double chili cheeseburger. Nutritional values unavailable

Regardless of how unhealthy they may be, Tommy burgers ARE delicious. They are big and greasy and salty and messy, exactly how a burger at an outdoor shack should be. After sampling Tommy's double chili cheeseburger I almost went back for a chili dog, but a donut or two were in my future...and an ice cream sandwich, as it turned out.

Donut # 1: Peanut Butter stuffed with chocolate frosting and chocolate chips

The Diddy Riese mocha ice cream sammy that almost sunk me

It was fun hanging with a fraternity who saw nothing unusual about chowing chili cheeseburgers for breakfast. But it was also fun getting back to my traveling companions...and sushi and salad, straight and wavy hair, and prettily painted nails.

Score: 8.4 out of 10 Napkins