I know it’s kind of a faux pas to have disclaimers before whatever you are writing. But who cares, this isn’t some fancy literary blog. My first post was about bacon, so evidently I’m not too concerned about my image.
So faux pas aside, DISCLAIMER: I swear not all of my posts are going to be about food that will attempt to drown your arteries in grease. In fact, I usually eat pretty healthily. But this post is about terrifyingly unhealthy food, so you’ll just have to take my word for it that I don’t eat like this all the time.
It is best to start this post with just two words: WAFFLE FRIES.
No, I jest. The waffle fries aren’t actually the reason to go to Kuma’s Corner. The real reason to go is the fact that they serve the most mouthwatering, drool-worthy burgers in the WORLD. Ok, I might be exaggerating, but they do serve the best burgers in Chicago. (And I am not making that up. It is an established fact.)
Unfortunately, it seems everyone is aware that Kuma’s Corner has the best burgers. Even at 2pm on a miserably rainy Sunday there was there was a 2 to 3 hour wait. DAMN. Solution: go across the street to Square Bar and start drinking.
After a deliciously spicy Bloody Mary and an hour and a half of chit chat, we returned to Kuma’s to find that our table was nearly ready. HOORAY. Then we sat down and waited almost 20 minutes to place our order. BOO.
It’s ok, though, because that is basically the last time we waited for anything. All 6 of our burgers were in front of us within about 10 minutes of ordering. It may have been the fastest order-to-serving time I’ve ever experienced in a restaurant.
[And now, dear readers, a warning. I am about to describe the most delicious burger on the face of the planet. If you are at all hungry, you probably shouldn’t read this right now. I would hate for you to start drooling uncontrollably over your keyboard and damage your computer. Insurance doesn’t cover that kind of damage.]
First, I must mention that the place is heavy metal themed. Yes, I am talking about the music genre. All of the burgers are named after metal bands, and they only play music that sounds like this:
I ordered the “Iron Maiden.” It was slathered with pepper jack cheese, cherry peppers, chipotle mayo, and topped with 4 lovely slices of avocado. It looks like this:
Ben ordered the most disturbing of all the burgers. And I say that only because when it arrived, I thought it was more likely to eat Ben than he was to eat it. It was GIGANTIC. It looks like this:
You can’t even tell where the burger begins and ends. It is the most Postmodern of all burgers. It is called the “Slayer” and instead of being served with fries, it is served ON fries. And one of the ingredients is Anger. Yes, like the emotion.
Are you drooling yet? You should be. That’s what the pictures are for. It’s like food porn.
I could hardly finish half of my burger. Every bite was like a battle to the death. Part of me feared a sudden heart attack, while the rest of me feared such a severe food coma post-burger that I would actually pass out while walking home. And every inch of me was so absorbed with my burger that I lost all awareness of my surroundings and no longer realized that the music had been trying to beat my brain to a pulp for the last half hour.
The last time I went to Kuma’s was the first time I went to Kuma’s, and since then I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it. That burger invades my dreams, taunts me when I’m feeling the slightest bit hungry, and convinces me that I will never be able to enjoy another burger ever again because no other burger in the world could possibly satisfy me the way Kuma’s burger did. Never.