Haste Taste: P.J. Clarke's

P.J. Clarke's burger is one of the best in the city and that's final. I don't care if it's a chain, I don't care if there's one too many in the city, their burgers rock.

I hadn't hung out with Fashionista in nearly two weeks so we decided to catch up before she heads to UVA's beloved and highly anticipated Foxfield weekend. The swim team banquet, which I recently attended, and Foxfield used to coincide with one another on the same day, until one too many swimmers showed up intoxicated and sunburnt to the awards banquet post-Foxfield foolery.

"Lose the hat, darling, it's eight o'clock at night!"

"I can't, or Coach B- will see my eyes..."

Needless to say, the coaching staff smartened up, and much to the alumni dismay, we now must choose between the banquet or Foxfield.

Fashionista and I headed to the east 50s so we could be near the pool where she would be competing in an inner tube water polo game. After a small hike and a void of restaurants as we crossed town, we noticed P.J. Clarke's at the end of a long avenue. Score! We picked up the pace like horses on their way back to the stables.

Fashionista and I haven't hung out in over two weeks. We had some serious catching up to do in a limited amount of time, so much that we literally said, "Ready, go!" We had an hour and a half to gab in between stuffing our faces with salads, French onion soup, cheeseburgers and fries before her game.

Late last night I received the following message:

omg NEVER again will i eat soup, burger and fries pre-water polo. seriously at one point i think B- thought he was going to have to pull me off the bottom of the pool and perform mouth to mouth.

Yikes. Sorry, girl!

Those juicy, melt in your mouth burgers are just so hard to beat, as are the French fries that are as perfect, if not better, than McDonalds' fries. I know, you'd think I'd have refined my French fry taste, but there are different cuts/styles of fries and McDonalds has their cut nailed.

At the end of dinner, I noticed a tall, sunkissed, blond and bright blue-eyed chef leaning against the expedite window. He was chatting with his co-worker, taking a break from the kitchen, and I couldn't help but catch his sweet blue eyes a few times. How I would have liked to have gone up to him and thanked him for the satisfying dinner we just had. If there's anyone who knows anyone who works at P.J.'s and knows this burger-making bloke, please, help a fun single girl out.

Some enchanted evening (over burgers), you may see a stranger (or a hot chef), you may see a stranger, across a crowded room (restaurant)…and somehow you know, you know even then, that somewhere you'll see him (I will definitely be making a point of returning to this very P.J. Clarke's, despite there being one two minutes from my office), again and again (if I'm lucky).

And this from my buddy ClarkKent, who's got a nose the size of Pinocchio's and always looks at what I'm up to over my shoulder at work:

"If you want to add a collegial note to your Mona's P.J. Clarke's post, they have the coolest male urinals in the city," he said with a grin.

"Really?" I asked.

"Yah, they're surrounded by porcelain."

Good to know...