The Happiest Hour

"Earlier this month, a select crew of us took a test drive in our shiny new cattle-Cadillac of a website, winding up at The Happiest Hour in the West Village. There, we hoped to find a no-frills, affordable burger in a jovial, congenial atmosphere. Sadly, like Moses and the Golden Fleece, we were misled. First things first, this is a perfectly nice burger - many commented that it’s more or less a higher-quality Big Mac (or In-N-Out style burg for my western brethren), but there’s no denying that it’s pleasing for the taste buds. Would you seek it out? Unlikely. Would you fight an innocent child to the death for just one sumptuous bite? Probably not. But would you gratefully slam one down after a night on the town? Undoubtedly. That said, this was not a night on the town. This was Burger Club. We are an epicurean and discerning lot. We are also lovers of value, and here was where our troubles began. A $12 burger is fine, but to not include fries (another $4 - though admittedly exceptional) is a brash and dangerous move. Then, to charge $9 for a 12 ounce beer and $16 for wine/cocktails is to spit in the face of all that’s still decent in this world. Said one commenter: “What is this, Per Se?” No…no it was not Per Se. Unless Per Se has become an Alien Mothership Breeding Ground for the most Brotastic Broligarchy of Broverlords...a literal Brotanical garden of the Broletariat…a Holy Broman Empire…let’s just say the ambiance took a hit as well."