Fancying Father’s Office – Santa Monica

Growing up, my daddy’s office was always off limits. It still is, even though I’m old enough to call him father. So when I heard of a place called Father’s Office, I wasn’t exactly thrilled to go into a place that usually got me spanked. And as if the name wasn’t forbidding enough, they even card you at the door to make sure you’re 21 and over. Clearly whoever opened this place had some serious daddy issues.

Daddy issues or not, the Office Burger is the godfather of all good burgers. The juicy patty is moist but dense and bleeds blood thicker than your family ties. Strong is stronger when you stack maytag blue with gruyere, and together they melt in your watering mouth, along with the soft, sweet caramelized onions and smoky applewood bacon.

That burger is a seriously piece of sophistication, and it’s clearly not for kids. But all work and no play makes me a dull girl. So what better way to shed some seriousness than with a basket of Sweet Potato Fries? Because no matter how full I get on just half a burger, there’s always room for fries.

I’m already 28, but I don’t know if I’ll ever feel grown up enough for the wood panels and boastful bookshelves of my father’s office. But Father’s Office definitely lets me pretend for a while. After only an hour, I’ve already soaked up the scotchy sophistication that only comes with salt n’ pepper hair. And if growing up tastes anything like the Office Burger, then give me some gray and call me granny.