Ybor’s Ignored Vegetarian Mouthgasm

Tell me what’s not to like.  Jeremy swore up and down after Jew-plaining that he wasn’t hungry that this was indeed the best burger he had ever eaten.  I echoed his sentiments.

The three of us started with a round of Annihilator, a fantastic 9 percent doppelbock that was hoppy and fruity without the bitterness of an IPA.

We began our Tolkien-esque quest to Mount Gorged with the beer battered onion rings which pulsed epileptic-like electric surges through my cortex. However, there was a strange, watery, mayonnaise dipping sauce.  That makes it sound gross.  It wasn’t.  The sauce’s texture and flavor just made us very sad while we gorged on fantastic porter-battered onions.

I had the Blackened Seminole Heights Burger pictured above. The burger was sublime.  This was a religious experience.  Maybe if that was what Church was like, I wouldn’t have taken the Dawkinsian red pill.  But we all know it isn’t like this burger.  This burger doesn’t taste like hysteria and Worther’s Originals.  Of course, I swapped out for the veggie burger. I couldn’t identify if it was just a Boca or Morningstar product, but the taste was completely alien from either of those.  Fresh jalapeños, good cheddar cheese and sour cream mixed together absolutely perfectly.  It took me two beers to get through the whole burger and fries, with a side order of honey mustard. Oh. It was the  real stuff: whole grain mustard seed and honey.  It tasted fucking astounding.  I literally put my head down about five times during the evening, closed my eyes and just had a personal moment with my food.  Who makes homemade honey mustard, or at least buys the real deal?  People who love their patrons.  They even have a mug club of about three true alcoholics who have their own hand-blown glass mugs on retainer for the joint.  An argument can be made that supporting the Disease isn’t really loving your patron, but I regress.

And of course, I don’t need to dwell on the booze.  They make the beer there.  It’s $5 a pint for what I had, the doppelbock, a London-style porter and an imperial stout.  Some will argue about 15 bucks and how much you can get in bottles for that.  Whatever. I always see that as an alcoholic’s argument.  When it comes to Substances, if you’re making the quantity over quality argument by default whenever an opportunity to partake comes around… Well, sorry champ. You’re a drunk, an alcoholic, a hobo wino.  Own it.

And at the same time, I did spend 30 bucks on just myself, so there’s that too.


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