the original perfect hamburger

The sign said The Original Perfect Hamburger. This piqued my attention as I am a lover of hamburgers, especially flawless ones. Inspired by the gusty name choice, I decided to give them a try for lunch.

As my eyes adjusted to the interior light I began to notice an abundance of red vinyl, red plastic poinsettias, and red painted surfaces. Then I saw plates of oranges stacked about and paper lamps hanging from little trees growing in pots on the counter. It was then that I looked more closely at the counter sign and noticed that the complete name of this restaurant was The Original Perfect Hamburger – American and Chinese Food.

As I contemplated this incongruity I was greeted by a short, stoic Asian man. He ushered me to a table whose surface covered with yet more poinsettias. Tinny string instruments accompanying a tuneless warbling soprano played on the stereo as I studied the menu and considered whether I should select a cheeseburger or chow mein.

About that time another customer entered. He had extremely large feet for his size, an impression compounded by the fact that he had 3 inch rubber orthopedic additions fused to his heels. He had just been to the drug store and had with him a plastic bag brimming with prescriptions. He took full advantage of the flexible bill of fare by ordering a grilled cheese sandwich on wheat ("use the white cheese") and then a variety of Chinese dishes, all while bemoaning the fact that they didn't serve tofu.

Ultimately I tried to straddle both culinary schools, ordering a Teriyaki cheeseburger with sautéed onions, a clumsy attempt at Asian fusion. My verdict: tasty, but claims of perfection may be overstated. When you are next in San Francisco I suggest you go down to Geary Street and have one with a side order of mixed vegetables.