When I saw this tee-shirt, I started drooling

Where, for heaven’s sake, would this place be? We don’t have a lot of options in our remote rim of Maine.

And then I was told the restaurant was a late and lamented site a block from my home, now reincarnated as an echo of the grill and bar next door. Only, perchance, a shade better.

Well, as a reaction, I did have an appropriate Greek slang expression I’d found earlier when researching background for my novel What’s Left, not that I’ll quote it here.

Burger loaded

Confession. I rarely eat hamburger. Maybe it’s a vestige of my stretches of being vegetarian or even the tasteless rock-hard patties we had when growing up. If I eat beef, give me a thick medium-rare steak or juicy roast, at least.

But once or twice a year, I’ll definitely go for something like this. Especially while traveling.