Nob Hill Bar and Grill does not match it’s name. In the midst of the pretentiousness on NW 23rd Avenue, the visibly older establishment unashamedly invites the average person in for a bite. Being entirely average on a lazy Saturday afternoon, I found myself wandering through their doors.
There were a couple of people at the bar. At first glance, they might have been homeless. (Twenty-third Avenue, despite it’s desire for the wealthy pocketbooks, also attracts many without pocketbooks at all.) At second glance, they were probably just regular people, albeit not the 23rd crowd of high maintenance with white pants with red heels and a constantly tossing bleached head of hair on an overtanned body.
I found a corner table and focused on a car race on the tv. The walls within my sight were covered with CitySearch awards for the best burger, and I could see an older gentleman, with glasses at the end of his nose flipping burgers in the kitchen.
The waitress, friendly and smiley, asked me for my order. I went for the BLT. That’s what I order when I feel like being healthy. (Blah blah fatty mayo and bacon. Can’t hear you. It’s totally healthy.)
My sandwich came out within 10 minutes. And it was really quite good. Layers of crunchy lettuce, juicy tomatoes and thick bacon with a simple layer of mayo and nothing else, on toasted sourdough. Just the way I like it. No fussy, fancy ingredients, just simple, crunchy, salty goodness.
The fries were a different story. Some of them translucent from the oil they were fried in, they were greasy and chalky tasting. Next time, I’ll get the chips. Yes. There will be a next time. I have to taste their award-winning burger.
