Page 36 of The Love Dose
“Starving.”
Calvin makes a turn onto a side street lined with evergreens. “I know just the place.”
“Don’t you have to get some shuteye before the long drive home?”
He shakes his head, vigorously. “Nothing comes between me and my Bobby burger.”
“What’s a booby burger?”
“Not a booby burger,” he smirks. “Bobby burger.”
“I stand corrected.”
“You’re about to have the best culinary experience of your lifetime.”
I laugh heartily. He knows I’ve been to several of the world’s top eateries. What are the odds the best burger on the planet has been hiding all this time in tiny Sugarbush Falls?
Chapter Twenty-Five
Caroline
Calvin and I are perched on scuffed wooden bar stools, like vultures eyeing our prey. If it weren’t for my thick down coat, I’d be concerned about splinters in the hiney.
From our vantage point, I watch the line cook through the hole-like gap in the wall. Actually, the entire place is a hole in the wall. The unshaven cook is straight out of central casting. White paper cap, stained apron, sweating like a hog. The only thing missing is the ash-dripping cigarette for added flavor.
Calvin’s eyes are glazing over. “I can’t tell you how relieved I am that this place is still here.”
I have to admit the smell is intoxicating. My stomach grumbles once more. At this point, I’d eat the beef with the tobacco additive. The only thing I had all day was Aunt Pearl’s cookie.
The ding of a bell. “Order up!”
The smell of fried onions is potent. I’m salivating now. I’m Pavlov’s dog.
A young waitress with piercings in every possible orifice, brings over the piled-high burgers. Brown goo is oozing out the sides. This will be a ten-napkin meal. Not my usual fare.
The waitress sets the plates in front of us. “Two Bobby burgers. On the house.”
Calvin smiles. “Aww, thanks.”
I carefully lift the monstrosity to my lips and peer over the bun’s edge at Calvin. “What am I missing?”
The cook swipes at his brow. If he could squeeze his forehead, we’d have two glasses of salt water to go with our burgers. He leans through the wall cut-out until his bulk stops him at his shoulders.
“Didn’t he tell you? Bobby was Calvin’s mom. The best teacher Sugarbush Falls ever had. When she passed, we named our most popular item after her.”
I ponder this as my teeth sink into the burger.
My taste buds explode. Smoky, sweet, juicy, just the right amount of heat. I’ve never tasted anything so good in my life.
My eyeballs must be popping out because Calvin says, “Told ya.”
It takes me a full minute to chew, swallow and wipe down my mouth. “How have I never heard about this place?” I say, readying for the next heavenly bite.
“It’s a Vermont secret. People come from as far as Montpelier for a Bobby burger.”
“We need to invest,” I say, around a mouthful of beefy deliciousness.
It dawns on me that I may soon have no money to put where my mouth is.
