Posts Tagged ‘ Tummy Box ’

Awesome Eats in Atlanta, Georgia: Ann's Snack Bar and The Ghettoburger

So here’s another exciting tale of adventure and unhealthy foodstuffs from my trip to Atlanta, Georgia a week ago.

While I was staying up there, I heard tale of a giant, crazy, greasy burger called The Ghettoburger, served at a small out of the way location called Ann’s Snack Bar.

Based on the name I looked it up on Google, and was quickly greeted with pictures of absolute horror, beef patties, cheese and grease arranged in was that would make even the most enthusiastic burger aficionado think twice.

I did some more research to find that it was named The Best Burger in America by a writer from The Wall Street Journal.

That was all I needed to hear, I had to put this burger monstrosity in my tummy box.

So I traversed the cross town drive to find Ann’s, it’s a tiny inconspicuous building off a road near I-20, in a neighborhood, that might be a little on the sketchy side. I got there before it opened, ended up having to wait around for a half hour or so. Thankfully the joint had a nice shaded screened in porch, cause it was a quite the warm day in the ATL.

The thing about Ann’s is that it’s really tiny, so only about 8 people can come and sit at the bar at any given time, and when you’re there, you’ve got to obey Ann’s rules. No Cell Phones, and No Swearing are two of the big ones. You don’t talk to Ann unless you’re spoken too, and you have to be ready to order when she’s ready to take it. It’s a little harsh, but Ann’s an old southern lady, so one can assume she just doesn’t want to take any shit from no one.

So I sat at the bar once the place opened, next to some Atlanta Natives who were also going to experience the Ghettoburger for the first time.

Ms. Ann took the orders in a very matter of fact way, writing everything down, taking names, and being a bit more intimidating that you’d expect for a tiny lady such as herself. She does all the cooking herself, with just one assistant, so she takes all the orders and then cooks everyone’s burgers at the same time.

I got my taste of Ms. Ann’s attitude when I ordered my drink. She serves lemonade and red drink, probably fruity punch, out of plastic jugs, and I requested to get them mixed half and half for my beverage. She gave me a look and said, “NO. We don’t mix them.” No reason, nor any argument, just NO.

The burgers consist of these giant patties that she plops down onto a grill, covers with onions, and once done she douses them liberally in a whole lot of seasoning salt, while you sit about four feet away having the magical aroma of coked meat fill your nostrils. So these are well made burgers to say the least, add cheese and bacon and these things get a little bit frightening, but when she adds the spoonful of chili as the final topping that’s when you know shit just got real.

So to be clear, my Ghettoburger consisted of two giant patties, two slices of cheese, a strip of bacon, lettuce, onions, tomato, ketchup, chili, and mayo.

So while my burger came out far more normal looking that some of the pictures I’d seen online, I still had to cut in in half to eat it, cause it was the sort of giant burger that you have a hard time even getting a bit into.

Now the thing is, I ended up not entirely caring for the chili, I thought it overpowered the burger flavor a bit, but aside from that The Ghettoburger was pretty badass. Giant, greasy, and tasty, along with various other artery clogging adjectives.

I wouldn’t call it the best burger in the USA, I prefer some sauteed onions and mushrooms, thousand island, and the occasional wacky ingredient, but I’d say it’s worth stopping by to try if you’re in the ATL. I can see myself making the pilgrimage to Ann’s Snack Bar the next time I’m in town. Cause the burger felt right. It felt down and dirty, and home cooked. It felt southern, it felt like a big FUCK YOU to the shitty, tiny burgers of fast food, and it felt like something special.

It’s the sort of thing you’d normally eat on a day when life’s got you down, and you have to say to the world “I don’t  care about these troubles of mine, grease and meat shall conquer all.”