...the tough go to P.J. Clarke's. There's no better hamburger anywhere. Took a luscious bite of one today and--presto!--our worries were over! Not that there's much to complain of, in the relative scheme of the world. Maybe it's really just an excuse. "Oh, I feel bad. I've been treated unfairly. I better go to P.J. Clarke's..." Any old excuse can do--even hunger! This gem on 55th St. and 3rd Ave. is truly one of a kind. They are--to the hamburger--what Paris' divine Pierre Gagnaire is to French cooking. As our mother used to say, "If you're going to do something at all, do it right!" And, indeed they do.
P.S. If, for some unearthly reason, a member of your party does not eat hamburgers, the hidden treasure at P.J. Clarke's is the Fish and Chips, featuring a Flintsone sized portion of fish, cooked to a tender, juicy perfection in a crisp fried batter. A little vinegar and you feel almost as good as your friends eating their hamburgers.
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