Shake Shack was good, but what was all the excitement about?
“So it’s Five Guys,” said the guy at the next table, pushing away his empty tray.
Well, I wouldn’t go quite that far. I mean, I like Five Guys, but the meat in Shake Shack’s burgers is a carefully formulated proprietary blend that really does come through in the flavor.
But would I stand in line for hours for one like they do in New York? Not a chance.
I actually love burgers, could eat them regularly if those around me weren’t horrified by the thought of such repetition, and I see them as being on a continuum with the best burger on the top, worst burger on the bottom, and literally thousands of possible gradations in between. And I’d put Shake Shack in that deep middle. Near the top, but not at the top.
Maybe part of it’s the line. I’m a very patient person by nature, but if I’m going to stand in line for a food item, be it a burger, a hot dog or a cronut, it better be the best freakin’ example I’ve ever encountered, and how often does that happen? Yeah, pretty much never; I think lines like that are for people who are really into what’s trendy, I’m just sayin’.
I will give Shake Shack this much: Although the line was fairly long on the evening of our visit, it moved very rapidly toward the four or five registers where you’re asked for your order, while the wait to get our food did seem on the long side, but maybe that was just anticipation.
Burgers at Shake Shack are lightly adorned, the better to taste the meat. And so it was with the ShackBurger ($5.19), a cheeseburger with a good-sized patty topped with lettuce, tomato and ShackSauce, which, as you probably guessed, is the company’s proprietary sauce, a faintly tangy mixture that’s probably mayonnaise-based.
We also had a double SmokeShack ($9.49), which got its smoke from applewood-smoked bacon, and a fiery kick from a surfeit of chopped cherry peppers.
Fries ($2.95) were crinkle-cut and well-prepared, crispy on the tops of the ridges and much softer in between, as a crinkle-cut fry should be. Cheese fries ($3.95) were way better than we expected (not to mention a veritable bargain), the cheese not just that nacho crap that they load ’em up with a lot of places, but actually possessed of some decent, faintly sharp flavor, and apparently tossed with the fries so that while each fry was touched with it, they weren’t swimming in it.
Overloaded was, on the other hand, a problem with the Shack-cago Dog ($4). This was a pretty good hot dog, well seasoned and with the depth of flavor that characterizes a good sausage of any kind, and it’d been cooked on an old-fashioned flat-top grill until it was appealingly brown in spots, before being served on a split-top bun. But there was too much of a good thing. I’ve had a lot of Chicago-style hot dogs over the years, and probably never one as messy as this. It was piled with a lot of relish and chopped onion, plus the usual Chicago dog “garden” of cucumber, pickle spears (which kept falling out because of the pile of relish and onion), a piece of tomato, a couple of sport peppers, mustard and a shake of celery salt. It was good, but I felt like I needed a shower afterward.
And of course we had to try one of Shake Shack’s famous shakes ($5.25, or $5.50 for shake of the week), which are the old-fashioned hand-spun kind, very thick and rich, our chocolate-peanut butter being about as peanut-buttery as we could imagine. A regular-flavor Shack-made Lemonade ($2.75 for regular, $3.50 for large), on the other hand, was tart and not too sweet, and wonderfully refreshing.
Service was fine, as far as it went. This is a counter-service place, so the only contact we had was with the counter employees, who were pleasant enough. We’d heard that sometimes somebody comes around with a pitcher and re-fills beverages but that wasn’t the case during our visit; maybe the place was just too busy.
So yes, by all means, try Shake Shack to find out what all the excitement is about. But don’t be surprised if the experience leaves you somewhat less than shaken.
Las Vegas Review-Journal restaurant reviews are done anonymously at Review-Journal expense. Email Heidi Knapp Rinella at Hrinella@reviewjournal.com. Find more of her stories at bestoflasvegas.com, and follow @HKRinella on Twitter.