The Worlds Best Hamburgers

I used to atop at this little bar on the home from work, when I first came moved to Salt Lake city, called, The Club . The bar had been on the corner of 200 South and about fourth or fifth West for years and years. The place was a dive but colorful. I wish I had an image of the place—its long gone now. I think the place was raised for the 2002 Olympics or maybe even before. On the side of the building which housed The Club was a huge painting of a hamburger and a glass of Coke and underneath this huge graphic was written The Worlds Best Hamburgers. The graphic was a throw back to when burgers were actually formed at the grill and fried and the cook would then put the buns on the grill and toast them, before the burger was placed on the bun. I bring this up because today I had to run over to State street over lunch and I passed a “push cart” grill, I had not seen before. The grill was clean and efficient looked like run by two people, a man and a women, the man was cooking and busy as a one armed paper hanger. The grease scented smoke brought back all the memories of when a person could order a “real” burger cooked the way you wanted and the burger had real flavor an it was a joy to eat.

The vendor was set up in one of the best spot in town, right in front of the Wells fargo building, one of Salt Lake’s largest building. The vendor was also right by the train stop for this block. This IS the salt lake business district, the cook was backed up by as much as six orders at times. The cart was surrounded by white shirt and ties waiting patiently for their lunch to be grilled. “classic burger cheese burger, bacon burger , BBQ burger and a host of vegetarian selections were also being offered”. The cheapest offering was the ”Classic” at $5.00 add a drink and two sides and the offering jumps to $7.00. I waited for about thirty minutes before my burger was ready. And got just the “Classic” without even the Styrofoam container. I got burger that I saw being cooked. The meat was still sizzling when the vendor placed the meat on the grilled bun. I am embarrassed to confess that I ruined my slacks when the juices from the burger and condiments `swelled from the burgher, escaping the napkins provided by the vendor, onto my slacks. I did not care. I was experiencing a moment ultimate flavor not enjoyed since the late fifties.

I wrapped the burger with the extra napkins the vendor provided and still the sandwich trickled on my slacks and red shirt and munched as I waited for the train to come. I was a little self conscience as I boarded the train but not much.—the burger was still cooling and I nibbled the edges; of course the sandwich was completely gone by the time I got back to the office. I had not seen angels but I feel I did have a religious experience.