GOODNIGHT, FUCKERS #799: RIP THE SILVERADO

 

Today I drove past the remains of probably the best place to get a burger in Elmhurst, the Silverado. They closed down a while ago, which saddens me because they made the best steak I've ever had, and I'm never going to have it again. I held out hope that someone else might take over, and I could once again sit at the table where Rooster Cogburn looks down at you.

Nope. They tore the building down. All that remains is a fenced in empty lot. I fucking swear to fuck, they'd better not put something stupid there, like yet another fitness center. Or another goddam learning center with a bullshit Italian name to make it sound fancy and scholarly. The one that irritates me the most is Montessori. It used to be called Raggedy Anne, and two of my cousins actually went there way back when. But then it turned out that the people running it were so racist they ended up on Last Week Tonight with John Oliver. Whoops! Guess it was time for a rebranding. Let's slap some Eye-talian name on there. Eye-talian names are synonymous with the Maf--er, I mean, Catholicism! Because never forget, THE MAFIA DOESN'T EXIST. Capice?

I am getting waaaaaaay off track here. I meant that the Silverado was very special to me, and I don't want its place to be sullied by another fucking microbrewery because HOLY FUCKING SHIT we don't have enough of those in Elmhurst. Or in the surrounding towns. Or fucking everywhere else. It would be great if it was another no-bullshit burger place. I shan't hold my breath, though.

It's getting harder and harder to find a good place to eat in Elmhurst. The Pizza Palace was another great place, and if you needed to drink an afternoon away, they had a very short bar there if you and a friend wanted to hang out and have a few Jamesons. I usually sat in the booth that had Josey Wales looking down at me. Seeing a pattern, here?

Beerhead was a pretty good place, but it vanished almost as quickly as it opened. Fitz's Spare Keys (or whatever they were calling it near the end; they changed names a few times) was good if you wanted watered down booze and overpriced shit, but it was good shit. They were shut down for selling booze to high school students.

There are a lot of places to eat in Elmhurst. They're all priced out the dickhole. And I won't go in them on principle. Just give me a goddam bar and grill, don't put on airs and call yourself a gastropub. Microbrewery is bad enough as it is. Do I really need to spend fifteen bucks on a cheeseburger? If that trend keeps happening, I'm going to have to make my change from Randy to Smokey and hit the streets, selling myself for cheeseburgers. Eight bucks is reasonable. Bring it to me medium-rare with nothing but cheese on it. No need to fancy it up. I'm not looking for a dining experience. I'm looking for an affordable good cheeseburger I don't have to drive far to get. But in Elmhurst? That's asking too fucking much.

All right, yeah. I got something stuck in my craw. I meant this to be a fond farewell to a kickass burger place, but instead all I've done is mourn for a lost world.

Holy shit, am I having a midlife crisis? Is that what's going on? I thought I'd gotten that out of the way when I was 20. (I figured I'd be dead by now, so I went into existential dread mode pretty early.)

OK. If this is a midlife crisis, I'm going to need your help. Do not, under any circumstances, let me buy an expensive take-me-back-to-my-youth car. Unless it's a Skyhawk. I can probably afford that, and it would be nice to have a car without any computer chips. Also, I'm pretty sure I don't have any interest in women half my age. I've always skewed for older, and now that I'm older, I look for same age. But if this is a midlife crisis, all bets are off. Don't let my other head do the talking for me. And if I start bitching about kids today and how kids when I was young had respect for their elders, please take me behind the barn and tell me I can tend the rabbits, George.

I'm going to miss the Silverado. It was a hell of a vision. Hell of a vision.

THE JOHN BRUNI MUSEUM OF MEDIOCRE (AT BEST) SHIT #25: CHEESEBURGER REVIEWS

[I love cheeseburgers. Always have, always will. I have had many cheeseburgers in many places in this country and in Ireland. But my findings in this review stand to this day. The Country House still makes thegreatest cheeseburger in the land. Maybe they’re not $7.50 anymore. It’s more like ten bucks, but it is still worth every penny. I’ve been down to Tennessee and Georgia, where oddly enough they can’t cook anything lower than medium well. I thought the south was supposed to have great burgers. Oh yeah, and Ireland had awful burgers everywhere I went. Apparently they have to cook meat to a crisp due to Mad Cow disease. Also, they use shredded cheese instead of sliced cheese. When they present it to you, it looks like a cat puked on hockey puck. Too bad. The Irish will never know what a good burger is supposed to taste like. This appeared in the Elmhurst College Leader on April 24, 2000.]

It’s so hard to find a good cheeseburger these days, especially since restaurants are concerned with being sued by customers who got food poisoning because of unseared meat. Fear not—there are still places that serve a cheeseburger like it was meant to be served (ie. medium rare; bloody burgers are too slimy, and well-done is too dried out).

First of all, Denny’s is not one of these places. Sure, they’re open 24 hours, which is a godsend for those drawn to the night by either desire or necessity. Yes, some of the food is edible, like the mozzarella sticks. However, the burger is dry and crispy. Meat was meant to be tender and juicy. If the cheeseburger crunches in your mouth, it’s a bad sign. Denny’s will not cook the meat to its proper state. Not only that, but they put too many sesame seeds on their bun, which is just wrong. However, the waiters can take a lot of crap, which is a very good quality to exploit. They’ll do anything but have the cook make your cheeseburger medium-rare.

D’s Diggety Dogs Diner, 2121 Butterfield Rd., Oak Brook, has a better cheeseburger, but not by much. They don’t cook a burger to the desire of the customer, and the burger itself is wafer thin served on a cold bun. Imagine eating a McDonald’s cheeseburger without the grease, and this is what D’s burgers taste like. Unlike Denny’s, D’s has an excuse. D’s is a hot dog place, not a cheeseburger place. Their hot dogs are great, just stay away from the burgers. Besides, they have fish tanks to keep you entertained, and you can always try to figure out whether or not those marlins on the walls are real.

Ye Olde Town Inn, 18 W. Busse Ave., Mt. Prospect, is much better. Not only is there a live band at night with pool tables in the back, complete with pictures of the Mexican War moments on the walls, the cooks aren’t afraid of medium-rare. Unfortunately, their idea of medium-rare is closer to medium-well. The meat isn’t tender enough, and the bun is too hard. The burger’s good, just not good enough. However, they give you popcorn for free. Maybe it’s not the greatest popcorn in the world, but it’s free, and you’re college students. You don’t need a math professor to help you figure this one out.

Where Ye Old Town Inn fails, the Silverado Grill, 447 Spring Rd., succeeds. On the walls are rifles and spurs and, of course, a picture of the Duke in Rooster Cogburn get-up (what Western oriented place would be complete without the Duke?). They serve their mozzarella sticks with barbeque sauce. Most importantly, they’ve got an extremely rare sense of medium-rare. The animal’s heart stopped beating a few minutes before they brought out the burger on a plate. It was literally bleeding its juices all over the place, saturating everything in sight, including the already grease-softened fries. It’s so messy they serve it with a gourmet bun, so the bread won’t fall apart. The only problem with the burger is that only the inside is tender and juicy. The outside is a bit rough and flaky. Thus, the Silverado has to take second place.

The greatest cheeseburger in the world comes from the Country House, 241 W. 55^th St., Clarendon Hills. Biting into the Country House cheeseburger is like taking a bite out of Heaven. Juices fill the mouth, and the meat is tender, all on a bun crisped just right. With the perfect fries on the side, it is a meal fit for the gods. Thankfully, you don’t have to end up getting your liver cut out by an eagle every day to get it—$7.50 for a cheeseburger may seem like a bit much, but it’s worth every penny for the ideal cheeseburger.

What, then, is the ideal cheeseburger? Medium-rare. American cheese. A bun, lightly crisped. Nothing on it but mustard and ketchup. With fries. You might ask, what qualifies John Bruni to give such criteria? I’m on the Leader staff, am I not? You can trust us—we’re professionals. If that isn’t enough, I’ve been all over this great country of ours, and I have had my share of cheeseburgers. Some places in Arizona make great cheeseburgers, but why go to Arizona when the greatest cheeseburger in the world is made in Clarendon Hills at the Country House?

Elmhurst College students, why settle for a burger from a typical fast food place? If money is a problem, stop making obscene phone calls and start stealing cars. This is Elmhurst, land of the expensive car. The land is rife with rich people to steal from. Reach for your piece of Heaven. Eat the Country House cheeseburger.