Darla's: The David Paymer of burger joints

On the way home from Darla's, we mused about which B-list celebrity best embodied our experience. Paul Giamatti was certainly unattractive, but was determined to be far too superior an actor to be compared with the competant but unstellar performance of the Darla's burger. Plus, he's kind of an A-lister these days. So we decided on David Paymer. You may wonder who the fuck is David Paymer. Oh, yes, you know him: http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0001601/

While Mr. Paymer is a versatile actor, he is neither attractive nor especially talented. He is a "solid" character actor. Mr. Paymer knows what he is and does not pretend to be more.

Darla's, on the other hand, runs advertisements in the Onion, claiming to offer "Great Fucking Burgers." This is simply not true:


Darla's burger consists of a hand-molded, football shaped patty on a greasy store-bought French roll. As you can see, the mayonnaise has left quite an impression on our dear burger. Think of this photograph, if you will, as a microcosm of Darla's presentation and ambience -- the beige walls, the sticky floors, the stickier menus, and a faint, but strange odor that Joe describes as "combination nursing home and rancid bacon."

Okay, it's not that bad -- but the look of the place certainly doesn't make one hungry.

While not all is well in the state of Darla, there are some silver linings in her somewhat cloudy McCloudface cloud (for you, dear Jon). The first glimmer of hope was when our lovely waitress asked us how we would like it cooked, indicating that they just might take grilling seriously. Next was the look of immediate surprise on both of our faces after our first bite.

Darla's cheesburger sure tastes better than it looks. The patty was juicy, flavorful, and as we mentioned, cooked to order. Joe thought it was a little too salty, but Roman was generally pleased without exception. The default cheese was American, but there were other choices including mozzerella, cheddar, swiss, and jack.

The produce seemed fresh, but limited: there was only a leaf of crispy romaine, some red onions, and pickles. What's missing from this picture? That's correct-a-mundo: tomatoes. Even Jack in the Crack serves tomatoes on their burgers. For shame, sweet Darla.


The burgers came with a choice of fries, coleslaw, or potato salad. A side green salad could be had for $1 extra (remember, garden salad substitute at the 'Meister is free). We both ordered fries, which seemed to be from a frozen Sysco bag. They were also covered with a seasoned salt slash paprika that was gross.

The drink test: We both ordered soft drinks. They were bottomless. Speaking of sodas, Joe noisely finished his diet Coke, sucking rudely on the straw, and then pushed the glass to the edge of the table. Within moments, the waitress was at our side asking if we would like refills. VERRRYY NIIICE. Good service. Seriously.

When the waitress brought our check, she gave us two small complimentary brownies. The thought really counted. The brownies were fine, too. This touch earned Darla a couple extra points. Total rating: 6/10.










http://www.darlasrestaurant.com/

And for an added bonus, our very own Joe Rose wrote a song about our experience. And now it's yours to download. We're sorry.