Shake Shack

Why it’s taken this long for EMW to write-up Shake Shack, no one can really say.  Perhaps it’s just been ass-cold this winter, and eating hot dogs and burgers in the middle of a snow-covered park in the middle of Manhattan isn’t all the appealing.

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Needing to return a DVR to the always maddening Time Warner Cable center, we were already in the general vicinity.  I mean, it would have been sacrilegious not to stop by.  I ordered close to my usual (Chicago dog, shack burger, fries), except that I swapped a normal hot dog for a chicken dog.  That was a mistake.  The chicken sausage was tough and split down the middle for some reason.  Look, girl, I am not afraid of a giant sausage, if you know what I mean.  It was just not juicy at all.

The burger, on the other hand, retained a lot of flavor and moisture even in this cold weather.  Still, it seems more than a little suspicious that the addition of the special sauce (aka colored mayonnaise) warrants the extra few cents over a normal cheeseburger.  The fries were perfect, as always.

Speaking of the cold, why don’t they put up some glass walls or some sort of barrier around the four space heaters?  Any insignificant amount of wind blows the heat they produce immediately away, defeating the purpose.  I guess the upside is that only the die-hards go in the winter.  We all know how ridiculous the line can get.  While I was snapping photos, a young woman asked me if I was using the nearby table.  I said, “no,” because I wasn’t and went back to looking through my eyepiece.  15 seconds later J shows up and balks at my inability to save his seat; the girl took his chair!  She didn’t mention anything about a chair.  Get your own chair, bitch!

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