Grease Burger
213 Clematis St., West Palm Beach, 561/651-1075
Any restaurant that names a signature menu item after the fictional star of “Anchorman” piques our interest, regardless of whether or not it smells of rich mahogany or serves three fingers of Glenlivet with a little bit of pepper and cheese. But, as it turns out, Grease Burger is kind of a big deal for reasons beyond its “Ron Burgundy” (which features spring onions, Swiss and Boursin cheeses, and mushrooms with, of course, a Burgundy reduction).
Along with whatever metal and brawn went into its construction, Grease Burger stays classy with Y-chromosome touches like its mile-long oak bar, 120 craft beer selections, dozen-plus flat-screen TVs that broadcast whatever sports are on at that moment and steel meat hooks that hang from the ceiling.
Speaking of which, meat lovers will want to come get a taste of the restaurant’s renowned 10-ounce patties, which can be dolled up DIY-style with more than 20 “burger bling” offerings—from fried egg and applewood bacon to truffle ketchup and garlic aioli. Grease Burger’s own inventive creations are dressed so fine they make Sinatra look like a hobo. The “Burger From Hell” may sound a bit daunting on paper, but the combination of fresh sautéed jalapeños, Habanero Hell sauce, queso blanco cheese, lettuce, tomato and grilled onions will have you shouting “By the beard of Zeus!” for all the right reasons. For those who want to skip the formalities and move right to the heart attack, there’s always the “Grease Beast”—basically a cheeseburger perched between two bacon-and-grilled cheese sandwiches and loaded with fries and onion rings.
But it’s not all about two tickets to the gun show at Grease Burger. The menu also includes lighter fare with a good dozen salads. “Todd’s Veggie Nuttie” salad was a highlight at our table, brimming with shaved carrots, broccoli, walnuts, raisins, some roasted chicken and a sweet-and-tangy honey mustard vinaigrette. The menu also scores with variations on the standard sandwich. The “House Roasted Turkey Club” on a multigrain bun comes with a little blackberry smash; the “Gringo Tacos,” thick with blackened mahi, spice things up with pickled jalapenos; even the quarter-pound hot dog goes “rockin’ through the garden” with onion, tomato, hot pickle relish and cucumber.
For those stuck in a glass case of emotion, Grease Burger’s wildly impressive roster (we count more than 100 brands) of bourbons, whiskeys and—Sweet Lincoln’s mullet!—moonshine are certain to take the edge off. If that doesn’t do trick, try one of the signature spiked milkshakes, like Grandma’s Treat (Grease Burger leaves the mothers out of it), which combines Maker’s Mark with caramel sauce and vanilla ice cream.
Best of all, Grease Burger keeps it all reasonable. Specialty burgers range from $10.95 to $15.95; bratwurst is $9.95; salads are $6.25 to $15.50. If that doesn’t prompt at least one “Great Odin’s raven,” then you may be better off at a restaurant that works 60 percent of the time, every time.
