And so, at long, long, long, long, LONG last, I finally made my way over to Shake Shack this past Saturday to indulge in the much anticipated, ShackBurger. After giving in to some much needed (well, that's questionable) retail-therapy, Shake Shack just happened to be a stones throw away. And although it was flipping gorgeous and sunny (read: even longer line than usual), we decided to go for it. If not now, when? Here's a tip: get in line when you're not yet hungry. Because by the time you've placed your order, you will be ravenous.
And the 60-minute wait in line begins.
I spy, with my little eye...
The Antony Gormley statues which are speckled all over the tops of buildings in the Flatiron District. Slightly creepy, no?
Orders for Parry and Kura (and Meagan). More commonly known as Berit and Kiira (and Meghan).
Ohmuhgod, ohmugod, ohmugod.
This is an unfortunately grey looking shot. But I don't care. I know how unfreakingbelievably delicious and spot on this burger was. And right now, that is the only thing in this whole wide world that matters. Potato buns are the only acceptable vehicle for burgers (and hot dogs for that matter). And softly melted American cheese, crisp lettuce, perfectly ripe tomato, crunchy onion, and that creamy and zippy Shack Sauce? The saliva I'm generating by remembering all of these little details is borderline humiliating. It was the perfect cheeseburger. I now get it, folks. The hype was merited. All of it.
The fries and the fountain soda (not a damn bubble in sight) were fails. Must go for a craft beer next time. But the burger? That burger is going to stay with me for a while. (Side note: Nail color is Prima Ballerina by Essie, #manicuremonday)
Parry, I mean, Berit, posing with the lifesize Antony Gormley statue which some perv decided to cover his man parts with, well, something made of rubber. Safety first!
I don't know, I think they make a pretty cute couple, no?
