Armando's: the best burger in Highland Park

My brother-in-law is visiting this weekend from UT Knoxville. Here's a little shout-out to Josh. Woot!

Chris wanted to show him a good time, so he took him to Armando's, where we once devoured the best (and biggest) bacon cheeseburger and onion rings ever! However, Josh's bus came in at 8:10. Armando's sign says they close at 7pm. Or 6pm. You can't really tell. The number 6 is hand-written in black marker over the printed number 7, so both are visible, and the intent of the communication is lost. "Armando's, open 10am to 7/6 pm." (There isn't a key on my keyboard that has the 6 superimposed over the 7. So, I improvised.)

So, after enjoying a sprinkly game of tennis at Warner Park, we hustled down to Main and Lynbrook, as 6pm was quickly approaching. We maneuvered around several hastily parked cars, landed in a proper parking spot, and waited for Chris to change out of his sweaty shirt into a clean one. It's a good thing, too, because the sign on the door clearly states, "No shoes, no shirt, no service." Do people do that in Chattanooga, too? I thought it was an Arkansas thing.

Well-shod and well-clothed, we entered the unassuming little restaurant, where the chairs were already up on the table and the floor ready to be mopped. I guess it does close at 6! We walked up to the counter, where a sign states, "We cannot be held responsible if you do not make your order correctly."

Whoa! Intimidation. This must be some burger if you have to worry about the WAY you order it.

They offer home-cooked foods as well as burgers, so the cluttered menu offered nothing but confusion and intimidation, considering the pressure I was under to order properly. So I went for what I knew: The Bacon Burger.

"You don't want cheese with that??" the cashier asked.

"Oh, well, yes, I do," I said. (It's listed as a Bacon Burger on the menu, so that's what I said!)

My husband and his brother followed my lead and ordered properly. "I'd like a bacon CHEESEburger, please, with fries and a sprite."

We also ordered the homemade daily special banana pudding, but they were out. They do, after all, close at 6pm.

Armando's deals in takeouts and callins--more, I daresay, than sit-ins. But what an amazing opportunity to eat half a cow for under $5! And the burger truly is the juiciest, tastiest, most satisfying burger I have ever had. And I've had my share of burgers all over the country.

If I didn't think it would clog up my heart, I might eat a half-Armando's everyday. But I would hate to hear the doctor tell me after an MRI of my heart, "Oh, here's the problem, you have a chunk of hamburger in your heart!"

As we slowly savored our meal, I overheard this conversation between employees:

A: "Did you lock the door yet?"

B: "Nope, we have three minutes."

ENTER family of three

A: "I'm sorry, we're all out of burgers."

Family of three looks very puzzled. How does a burger joint run out of burgers, they must be asking themselves. And how are they going to NOT be out of burgers by 10am? Will they be making a run to Sam's Club tonight before they close at 8pm?

A: "We have, um, salad?"

(The question mark is intentional, because she really asked it in the most sheepish, unfortunate, apologetic way.)

Salad. Not the best consolation prize when your mouth is salivating for Armando's burgers.

EXIT family of three.

ENTER Employee C, apparently, the cook.

C: "What, they didn't want any food?"

A: "We're out of burgers!"

C: "What??! We're not out of burgers! I've been cookin' them to order!"

By this time, I am certain the clock had struck 6pm, but no one had moved to lock the door because a flurry of apologies and explanations followed, and the man of the family jested that they walked all the way back out to their car and back in again!

It's just as well. You'll have to do a lot more walking than that to burn off the fat that burger'll put on you.

So we left Armando's and the sheepish employees, fat and happy, clothed and shod, just after 6pm.

We will definitely return... just as soon as I brush my arteries.