Shake Shack in da house. Nostalgia, tears of joy, flashbacks to Sundays skating in Bryant Park...wait, what the hell? It was so much better in my memories.
The Shack Cago Dog. The only hot dog I'd ever pick over a burger, but maybe not anymore. The frank is thick, and the savory-sour-spicy combo hits a high note for me. Relish and mustard are my favorite toppings, but the cubes of cukes and onion are a break from the pickled and the processed. Mildly spicy sport peppers add the kick I'm looking for. But it tasted better in New York. The hot dog tastes a little over-boiled, and the toppings are a bit off in both portion and proportion.
The Shack Stack is just good. Two of their best stacked into one can't-close-your-mouth monster, a tender burger patty and a juicy fried cap of shroom, gooey cheese, and the Shack sauce of legends. It's awesome, but a ten-dollar burger it is not.
Cheese Fries with bacon because things are better with bacon. Some of the fries are less crispy that I'd like, but I do like that the cheese makes it all the way to the bottom.
Dessert is always a Custard. This one has brownie, marshmallow, and graham crackers, a cold, creamy campfire s'more...but better.
Maybe I'm old, but it seems the price of nostalgia has made an astronomical rise. Never have I paid ten dollars to relive a memory, and that memory is a lot smaller than I remember. My wallet can't handle more flashbacks at this rate, and though I'll always remember Shake Shack fondly, I think it's better if I leave those memories in NYC.
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