So let it be written…
Let me tell you about the best hamburger I’ve ever had, knowing that should I manage to summon up all my powers of the written word, the description I proffer will not come even close to an approximation of justice.
Those of you who’ve experienced this burger will know exactly what I’m talking about, even though their last bite was in the late 1980s. Those who haven’t, well, you haven’t lived. Sorry. I also lament for the younger set, robbed of this sublime treat by their very placement along the time-space continuum.
I have put many, many a burger down my neck in my 52 years, but the Kennedy Pub burger of that era – before the North Delta watering hole became a sportsbar and still had a big moose head on the wall – well, it took the wedding, birthday and Christmas cake.
The cook – nay, creator – had the grill of Hephaestus, spatula of SpongeBob and a culinary genius that would put many an Old World grandma to shame. I think she was a unicorn. I wonder what happened to her, but she would have been a great catch for any man possessed of a stomach.
I knew people who would come from as far as Mission – Mission, folks – to enjoy this hamburger, with its perfect sauce, perfect bacon, perfect beef, perfect cheese and perfect bun.
Now, that’s a mission! (Heh heh.) Well worth it, though.
It gets me feeling wistful about places and food. Like the Copper Kettle in Cloverdale. Their buffet had the best chicken drumettes ever. The Heidi restaurant on Fraser Highway, heading down the hill into Langley. Just leave me there; I’ll get stuffed fat like a Zeppelin. Wunderbar!
On the Fraser, there used to be a seafood buffet on Front Street in New Westminster, called King Neptune’s. I dream about that place. Good God, it was fantastic. Seafood heaven.
And then, I have fond memories of Leon Kee Wonton House in Whalley, on 104th Avenue. The servings were mountainous, Shirley the waitress was a sweetheart, and you never had to worry about your car disappearing because the place was always full of cops. General duty cops know good food – I think many of them are closet Bobby Flays.
On Scott Road, again in North Delta, there was this tiny, and I mean tiny, tool shed of a restaurant called Henry’s Eats.
Forgive me, I am getting somewhat self-indulgent here. And hungry, too. I suppose I should offer you some kind of pay-off for putting up with my gastronomical reminiscing. So here’s two suggestions.
First, try the mushroom burger at the Fresgo Inn, at 10102 King George Blvd. The place has been there for forever and a day, with good reason. Everything on the menu is good, served in generous portions. A friend ordered the schnitzel and his takeaway fed him for a couple of days.
Second, again in North Delta, the Greek Village Restaurant at 7953 Scott Rd.
Order the Village Platter – it’ll make you change your religious beliefs.
Anyone hungry? I sure am.
I think it’s sushi tonight.
So let it be done.