Here
is the problem with using a double-decker tour bus as your main form of
transportation: you're using a double-decker tour bus as your main form
of transportation.
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| Yeah, Nice Place, California -- When Can We Eat Again? |
Midway through the afternoon on
our second day in Los Angeles, we have seen just about as much of the
city as we would ever care to see from the top shelf of a StarLine tour. Furthermore, we are suddenly starving, being that a single egg
and a few kernels of caramel corn is seemingly not enough to sustain us
through hours of wind-blown tourist narrative. Therefore, we abandon
our stringent itinerary in order to head directly to Father's Office,
home of Adam Gertler's Best Thing I Ever Ate WITH BACON meal, the office
burger.
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| If Only That Neon Sign Said 'GIN,' You'd Be Speaking Our Language |
When we walk in, we are immediately carded
(we choose to be flattered by this instead of the more logical
explanation that it is simply the restaurant's policy), handed a menu,
and asked if we know how the process works. The host then explains that
we can sit wherever we like, and when we're ready to order, we can do
so at the bar. We are astounded by this circumstance, not that we mind
the system necessarily, but that it was explained to us up front. We
believe that in New York, they would have just left us to our own
devices, forced to figure out on our own why no one was coming to ask
what we wanted to drink. ("No doubt we would have been sitting here
complaining about how bad the service is.")
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| It Only Would Have Been a Matter of Time Before We Had Asked for the Manager |
With this
knowledge in mind, Vodka heads to the bar, orders one office burger plus
two glasses of wine. When our order arrives, she is incredibly
impressed by the kindness of the Father's Office staff, who has
pre-cut the burger in half for us.
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| My, What a Thoughtful Place! |
"I can't believe
how nice all of the LA restaurants are about splitting food," she tells
Ginger. "She must have noted on our slip that we were sharing a
burger."
Ginger allows Vodka to drone on about this
point for at least a minute before finally piping up, "I mean, they cut all the
burgers down the middle, but you can keep thinking that this was just done
for us."
Self-centered, party of two, anyone?
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| And While We're At It, Can You Just Enable Us and Say We Were Also the Only Ones Carded? |
The
office burger itself features a thick slab of beef, topped with blue
cheese, arugula, bacon and caramelized onion.
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| That's a Lot of Greenery -- Where's Ginger's GasX When You Need It? |
Served on something more
resembling a hero than a regular potato bun, each half is practically
the size of a real burger, and it comes with a helping of shoestring
fries on the side.
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| As Always, We Are Especially Taken with the Carbs |
We enjoy the burger (keep in mind that we are
starving, so we would enjoy just about anything), though it's not our favorite one we've ever tasted. In fact, we
believe most of the ingredients get lost under the heavy-handed helping
of caramelized onions, which bring a sweetness to the entire creation
which is not necessarily enjoyable.
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| Can Someone Please Pass the Salt Lick? |
What we do
appreciate about Father's Office is that, for a place resembling a
slightly hipper (and much more expensive) dive bar, they don't take any
nonsense from anyone, particularly in the fact that they don't allow any
substitutions. Despite this decree, the guy who sits down next to us
tries to order a burger without blue cheese, claiming he is "allergic"
to it. We are heartened when he is promptly shut down by the bartender,
if only because we appreciate when someone else is the "problem
customer," instead of us.
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| Who Knew It Took the LA Air to Make Us the Accommodating Ones? |
After all, until you break out in hives, mister, you're not really allergic to anything.
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