We’re about to get what some might consider hyperbolic here. So just bear with us, get excited and unhinge
a jaw for Salvation Burger, April Bloomfield and Ken Friedman’s version of a casual burger spot, now open
at the Pod 51 Hotel in Midtown East.
When we say “their version,” what we mean is that there are wood-fire ovens, a full bar and a very large wall of wine bottles. Your banquette can be curtained off, for full burger-eating privacy, and is equipped with a roaring fireplace in the form of a flat-screen showing a roaring fireplace.
Now, to food things...
The Classic Burger’s much different from the Spotted Pig or Breslin ones.
This one more resembles a Big Mac, as forged by Michelangelo from beef raised on enchanted pasturelands, cheese that melts into every last crag of patty and pickle chips hand-ridged by Scandinavian artisans, smothered in a sauce so special that all the kindergarten teachers in the land couldn’t praise it enough, and nestled between sesame seed buns that sprang forth from the Hindu god Vishnu.*
*Early impression.
There’s a Filet-O-Fish, too.
Instead of “fish,” it’s made with tempura-style fluke and topped with tartar.
The hot dog is almost a sacrilege to the concept of a hot dog.
In that the house-smoked beauty is almost too good-looking to be considered a hot dog. It’s got dill sprigs. Dill sprigs, we say.
The shakes.
They’re thick enough to necessitate those giant bubble tea straws. If you want boozy, try the grasshopper. If not, there’s a toasted-marshmallow variety complete with the eponymous toasted marshmallow on top.
There are pies.
It—it just keeps going. Just look at it all.
When we say “their version,” what we mean is that there are wood-fire ovens, a full bar and a very large wall of wine bottles. Your banquette can be curtained off, for full burger-eating privacy, and is equipped with a roaring fireplace in the form of a flat-screen showing a roaring fireplace.
Now, to food things...
The Classic Burger’s much different from the Spotted Pig or Breslin ones.
This one more resembles a Big Mac, as forged by Michelangelo from beef raised on enchanted pasturelands, cheese that melts into every last crag of patty and pickle chips hand-ridged by Scandinavian artisans, smothered in a sauce so special that all the kindergarten teachers in the land couldn’t praise it enough, and nestled between sesame seed buns that sprang forth from the Hindu god Vishnu.*
*Early impression.
There’s a Filet-O-Fish, too.
Instead of “fish,” it’s made with tempura-style fluke and topped with tartar.
The hot dog is almost a sacrilege to the concept of a hot dog.
In that the house-smoked beauty is almost too good-looking to be considered a hot dog. It’s got dill sprigs. Dill sprigs, we say.
The shakes.
They’re thick enough to necessitate those giant bubble tea straws. If you want boozy, try the grasshopper. If not, there’s a toasted-marshmallow variety complete with the eponymous toasted marshmallow on top.
There are pies.
It—it just keeps going. Just look at it all.
