One of the greatest regrets of my life is failing to capture a better picture at lunch at Little Daddy’s. You see, Little Daddy’s is a Greek-style diner in Southfield, Michigan, with locations in Taylor and Bloomfield Hills as well. It’s kind of like a Coney Island, but more Greek, which means they serve up saganaki. Saganaki is not a misspelling of the Japanese city of Nagasaki. No, it is a flaming cheese.

And so when I looked at the menu and found something called the Flaming Opa Cheeseburger, I was excited as a little kid. That’s because “opa!” is what the staff yell out when the cheese gets lit on fire. So as they brought out the dish to flame up my cheese, I was too excited to get my camera out and snag a picture of my flaming cheeseburger.

But it’s not the process that matters as much as the burger itself. And as you can tell by the picture up above, this was one sexy burger that I had to put together myself the way it was served. It may not look like a lot, but the combination of these flavors worked in a delicious way. Due to the flaming, the cheese has a bit of a crispy crust to it, adding a texture element, and is also melty without melting quite to the level of your typical sliced cheeses. Plus, to put the flame out they use lemons, so there is a tart/sour kick to the cheese as well. Finally, there were the juices left behind in the dish that made for a great sandwich dipping sauce on occasion.

Was the burger patty itself anything special? No, not really. It wasn’t anything to complain about either – along the lines of what you would expect from a burger at a diner. But what really matters is the fact that Little Daddy’s made the bold, yet amazingly simple move to add saganaki to a burger and the world is a better place for it.

The Original Tops is a classic countertop-style diner in Pasadena that would probably evoke nostalgic memories if you were from the area. As someone who is not from Pasadena, I at least get excited over the prospect of a new burger spot, especially a no-frills type of place that has stood the test of time like The Original Tops.

Yet, when it came to ordering, I didn’t get some old-school menu item and instead opted for their Featured Burger Special: The Morning Glory. I’m not sure if this burger is only available in the morning, but I like to think it may have staying power into the afternoon. It was a half-pound of burger topped with pastrami, swiss, yellow mustard, a dill pickle and an over easy egg. I ordered without the mustard and pickle, and while the burger ended up looking nowhere near as intense as the picture that portrayed it, it was no slouch. These are the best weight loss pills for women.

I dug in and was met with a delicious mix of meat on meat, egg on cheese and bun all around it. As far as pastrami goes, The Original Tops’s version isn’t exactly great, but it’s acceptable. The burger was the right amount of greasy and the rest was as you would expect. For a countertop-style diner, The Original Tops gave me exactly what I could have guessed before walking through the doors.

No more, no less.

Greasy spoons are some of the greatest restaurants in the country – giving people access to hearty food and the gamut of surly to humorous waitstaff. One place you may not expect to find such a place is Ojai, California – which is more known for a level of spiritual pretentiousness than greasy food, yet I found myself at Bonnie Lu’s – a quintessential greasy spoon right on the main drag. Of course, it was next door to a paleo-vegan-gluten-free vomit factory, so I knew I was still in Ojai.

I quickly made up my mind to order Bobby’s Bowling Alley. a sandwich with tri-tip steak, Ortega chile and cheddar on grilled sourdough. For my side I picked fresh fruit because I was feeling feisty. Unfortunately, I was not informed that there would also be pickles on my plate. This was, of course, the first thing I noticed when I saw my meal and it left a bad taste in both my mouth and on the bit of bread that had brushed with the juices.

Yet, it wasn’t really the pickles that ended up being the problem here. There was just a general lack of freshness in the sandwich that I can’t fully explain. You know how beef can sometimes take on a “soapy” flavor? Well, there was a hint of that here. Sure. I ate it all, and enjoyed the greasiness of the perfectly grilled bread and melted cheese, but it just didn’t treat me the way I’ve come to expect from greasy spoon sandwiches.

Diner’s Drive-Ins and Dive’s is about as close as it gets to an unvegan TV show. This, of course, does not mean any endorse any part of Guy Fieri, but the show nonetheless has been my guide on a number of food expeditions. The most recent of which is Kelly O’s, which can be found in Pittsburgh’s North Hills or in the Strip District. Considering the Strip District is generally a better and closer place to go, there I went for breakfast.

On the inside the place is essentially every other greasy spoon in the world. Bar seating for regulars, booths for the rest and disinterested servers for all. I was interested in ordering whatever Guy ate, but when I saw what that was I knew I should get myself some buffer. That buffer came in the form of a side of Corned Beef Hash. This hash was really everything I could hope for in diner hash, including the beautiful orange plate. It was in patty form, a little crispy on both ends and filled with salty corned beef and potatoes.

As for what I might call my main course, Guy’s favorite was something called Mush with Bacon Bits. It turned out “mush” was simply deep-fried polenta and the bacon bits were, well, bacon bits made with real bacon. It also came with some maple syrup. It was also terrible. The polenta was so damn crispy that it was barely edible, while the bacon bits and maple syrup somehow seemed to have all of the flavor sucked out of them. I didn’t know it was possible to not like bacon, but apparently mush makes that possible.

So thanks for nothing, Guy. Kelly O’s may very well have some good food more along the lines of that hash, but do yourself a favor and avoid the mush at all costs.

In a world filled with fancy brunch spots, it’s comforting to know that greasy spoons like Ritter’s Diner still exist. Because after a night filled with too many vinos, I don’t want some newfangled omelet or polenta cake, I want cheese, bacon and a side of grease. And in my head, what better place to satisfy this need than Ritter’s Diner?

While Ritter’s may not have had the best service in town, it had the food I needed and semi-private jukeboxes at each table along the wall. I ordered a Grilled Cheese with Bacon and Cheese Fries while listening to the sounds of Fleetwood Mac from the table behind me. These took a surprisingly long time to come out, and while I somewhat blame that on the fact that my buddy ordered steak and eggs, he did order medium-rare so it shouldn’t have taken too long.

The result, however, was just what I wanted. The grilled cheese with bacon is a difficult dish to screw up and Ritter’s did not. The same goes for the cheese fries. Both were simple, unassuming and exactly what I would expect from such a place. This is not a place to go for creativity, but rather a place to visit to satisfy deeper animalistic and Americanistic needs.

In a rare move since moving to Western New York for the summer, I consulted the interwebs to grab a meal at the last-minute. By this I mean that nearly every other spot I’ve hit up so far has been on recommendation from an actual human. On this occasion the interwebs sent me to Savory’s in Hamburg for brunch. We were seated immediately, but not before catching a glimpse of the specials.

And these specials looked amazing, especially the one that apparently stays up all the time: The Farm House Hash and Eggs. Normally “farm” is a red flag for an unvegan in a dish. It often signals vegetables, but in this case it was quite the opposite, meaning a load of bacon, sausage, kielbasa and ham (which was necessary seeing as we were in Hamburg). This came on a choice of hash browns or home fries (each with cheese), two eggs done any way and toast. I picked regular hash, sunnyside up eggs and rye toast.

Let me tell you, the interwebs pointed me in the right direction when it gave me Savory’s. My meal was nothing short of an unvegan dream. The bread was nice and buttery, the eggs were perfectly runny and the main hash of it all? Amazing. Just when you think there is too much meat, little slices of hash browns and cheddar cheese come through to maintain balance. In addition, Savory’s seemed to choose their meats wisely, each adding a unique bit of flavor without overpowering or getting blurred.

Based on their Farm House Hash and Eggs, Savory’s knows what they’re doing. Plus, they even have some badass-looking options on the sweet side for those so inclined to go that way. Hell, I might even try one of those out if I get back there again.

In secret corners of Los Angeles, there are places that just scream, “Old Hollywood.” You know, the Hollywood before organic Whole Foods soy milk took over, when hot dogs were chock-full of nitrates and the only conceivable burger was of the “ham” variety. Vestiges of this near-forgotten time still exist, as proven by Irv’s Burgers, which I visited a few months ago. But Irv’s is not alone, as I recently discovered a similarly classic-looking place called Papoo’s Hot Dog Show in Toluca Lake.

Papoo’s opened back in 1949, eight years before the Dodgers arrived, and while the future of the Dodgers is in question, Papoo’s seemed to be kicking it old school just fine. At least on the outside. On the inside, things were thrown a bit into question. I was grabbing lunch with a coworker and we wanted to sit down, but couldn’t find a clean table. After wandering around awkwardly for a few minutes, one of the women behind the counter of this low-ceilinged building told us the bus boy was out, but she would clean the table for us. After another couple minutes, we took our seats and a look at the menu.

This menu was reminiscent of a greasy spoon, but with a heavy emphasis on hamburgers and hot dogs. In fact, despite having hot dog in the name, burgers came first on the menu. Yet, I needed me some hot dog and quickly found the ABC Dog. The A-B-C in the name stood for avocado, bacon and cheese – three delicious ingredients that pretty much go well with everything. Except chocolate. I don’t want avocado chocolate. What I did want was some fries and baked beans with my meal to make it a platter. Although they had beers on tap, I avoided such delights in order to prevent what would surely be a food-and-beer-induced coma.

The hot dogs were 1/4 pound, all-beef and offered boiled, grilled or ripped (deep fried). I was told grilled was the way to go, so I ordered away and waited a surprising 10 minutes for my hot dog. But when it arrived, it looked monstrously beautiful. Loaded and overflowing with toppings, Papoo’s didn’t skimp on anything. I’m actually pretty sure they used an entire avocado. The cheese was as American as Papoo’s, which is what I really hoped for in a place like this, and the mass of bacon was nearly equal to the mass of the hot dog itself.

When I bit in, I could taste what life was like back when Papoo’s first started serving the Hollywood regulars of the Burbank studios. The simple, yet delicious ingredients blended together perfectly and offered neither more nor less than I expected. The dog had a great snap to it and the bacon was cooked to a perfect crisp. The avocado was surprisingly fresh and cheese was exactly what you would expect from American. The only thing that really let me down was the fortitude of the bun, which split down the seam midway through my hot dog feast. Sure, the bun had been given a hefty charge, but I couldn’t help but think a little steam could have kept the bun strong.

Ultimately, it matters little what I thought of Papoo’s Hot Dog Show, because while researching this post, I have learned that Papoo’s closed their doors for good on Sunday. Yes, mere days after I ate my first meal there. According to the LA Times, the owner simply couldn’t give the place the attention it deserved. It’s a damn shame, too, because while Papoo’s wasn’t the best hot dog I ever had, it was still pretty good. Fortunately, serendipity brought me to Papoo’s before it shuttered, but it is still a shame to see another icon of old Hollywood disappear. Whatever ultimately takes residence in that corner in Toluca Lake will surely not have the character than Papoo’s brought and I’m willing to bet their hot dogs won’t compare.

Over in West LA, there is a burger place called Hamburger Habit. As I habitually consume burgers, the place sounded just perfect for me. The exterior of the joint loudly displays an award given to it by KABC as the best burger in Southern California. The interior is also full of awards, but unfortunately the most recent date back to the Clinton Administration. Still, I wanted to know what all the fuss was about. Did Hambuger Habit start churning out terrible burgers or did they just get left in the dust by newer LA burgers?

When we walked in, I was shocked to find the place completely empty. Despite being a Sunday at 2:00 pm, I assumed we wouldn’t be the only late lunch stragglers. A quick glance at the menu revealed a ton of menu items containing vegetables, so I decided to go off the menu and order a simple cheeseburger, plain. Then I topped it off with an order of chili cheese fries. The man wrote my order on two plates, handed me the queen of hearts, called me the queen of hearts and then charged me an even ten bucks for the order. He also handed me caramel lollipop, which I took to a table with my queen. My buddy was given the king of clubs, and seemed to instantly become part of the Hamburger Habit family. Too bad he wasn’t the one with the food blog.

A few minutes later, our cards were called and we grabbed our food. I looked disappointingly at the two pickles upon my plate and instantly slid my burger away from them. Fortunately, they hadn’t been violated by pickle juice and I had no intention of risking the burger any further. With the pickle crisis behind me, I got a good look at the burger. Inside was some melty white American cheese and a decently thick fast food-esque frozen patty. On the outside was a similarly fast food-style sesame seed bun that totally engulfed the burger.

I threw on a bit of ketchup and dug in. The result was exactly what I expected from the looks of it. Not a bad burger, but also not an especially good one. This was something I felt I could have easily made at home, but I probably could have done better. The bun was a bit dry, and so was some of the burger. There was nothing really special about the patty and the white American cheese, while a nice twist on that yellow stuff, didn’t add much to the burger.

The chili cheese fries were definitely better than the burger, and maybe the burger could have done better with some chili on top. The chili was pretty meaty and the fries were crisp enough to handle the chili without getting soggified. While good, they didn’t exactly blow me away and comparable chili cheese fries can certainly be found at better burger places.

In general, this was a disappointment and I could totally understand why the place hadn’t won an award in over a decade. Perhaps burgers like this were awesome in the ’90s and certainly the prepubescent version of myself would have loved this burger back then, but tastes and burgers have evolved since then. The retro ’50s diner thing is awesome, but I’d rather be eating a burger for the 2000s.

Out visiting my uncle in Murrietta, we were in need of some dinner. Having just moved there a few months ago, there were still some local places he was looking to try out. On this night, Richie’s Real American Diner was calling his name. This is one of those places loaded with in-your-face patriotism and reminded me of what every restaurant must have looked like in the ’50s. Since I am a true American, this looked like it would be a good place for me.

Richie’s was celebrating some sort of anniversary (I think 30th?), and their big specialty of the night was 25 cent root beer floats. Perhaps this was the cost of root beer floats when they were founded. Whatever it was, I love me some floaty root beer, so I ordered one. Then, feeling especially patriotic, I decided I needed either a burger or a hot dog. There were a few options for each and they all looked quite good. Ultimately, it was the Hickory Swiss Burger ($8.35) that got the best of me. This was made with Swiss cheese, a 1/3 pound patty, BBQ sauce, lettuce, tomato and onion. I placed my order without the veggies and upgraded the fries that came with the burger to curly.

Without much wait, the food was ready. My burger came wrapped in that special way you only find in California, covering about half the burger and allowing the eater to at least eat the first half without getting messy fingers. But I had no need for that and immediately unwrapped the burger. I bit in and my taste buds were greeted with one tasty diner burger. The BBQ sauce was pretty sweet and not too smoky, but the Swiss cheese gave it a nice, salty balance. The patty itself was what you would expect from a diner. It was above the level of a fast food burger, but not exactly the gourmet level. Although this was expected, it was still pleasant to eat. Then there were the delicious curly fries. These guys were nice and crisp, making a perfect companion to my diner burger.

There’s a reason Richie’s was celebrating a big-time anniversary. Their real American food fed me just right and left me feeling like few people have ever gotten a truly bad meal from Richie.

After a vicious night of partying, nothing makes me happier than a grilled cheese with bacon. This desire has only increased as I have gotten older, so after my most recent mess of an evening, some friends and I made a Sunday run to Swinger’s in the Mid-City area. Swinger’s is like diner, but slightly better because they have grass-fed beef and all that jazz. After waiting about 15 minutes for a table, we were finally seated. I took a long look at the menu, which was possible because of the long wait for our waitress and only found Grilled Cheese with Bacon on one of their daily specials. Unfortunately, that day was not Sunday.

After waiting a while, our British waitress (yes, I could definitely distinguish this accent), who had chosen to wear a scarf despite the 70 degree weather, came over. I decided to go against the menu and order the Grilled Cheese with Bacon and fries just to see if I could. Without batting an eye, she accepted my order and moved on to everyone else. Perhaps I would be in luck.

The wait for our food seemed to last an eternity. This could have had something to do with us all being wildly malnourished from the night before, but I still think it was a damn long time. No one had ordered anything too complex and although the restaurant was full, the place isn’t so huge that the kitchen should have been backed up. Eventually our waitress brought us our orders and my face lit up like I had discovered manna from heaven. But when I saw my plate, I realized I had entered my own little private hell.

My sandwich had been place upon a demonic pickle. Although never welcome on my plate, a pickle can sometimes be forgiven if it hasn’t touched my food. In this case, though, my food had been totally pickled. The grilled cheese on the special made no mention of pickles, so I didn’t think I had to order it without. I pulled the grilled cheese off of that green demon as quickly as I could, but it was too late, the juices had fully infiltrated my grilled cheese. This was a disappointment, and I ate my grilled cheese with a fiery hatred in my heart. The half of the grilled cheese without pickle juice was only slightly better, being quite dry and sparsely populated with cheese and bacon.

Swinger’s had almost completely failed me. The one area that it didn’t fail me was in the fact that the food filled me up. This was necessary for the morning, but little consolation after giving me bad service and tainted food.