Get ye to the Shake Shack before it is too late . . . get ye quicker . . . as a matter of fact – stop doddling with your time by reading this here missive – and scoot on over to Madison Square Park with serious haste. I have a feeling that you won’t be disappointed by what you find.

Oh – and what will you be finding in the middle of this Manhattan park – under the swaying trees? Well – junior – you are going to find an oasis of burgers and custard the likes of which will keep a smile on your kisser for a long long while.

I happened to go for lunch on my birthday and after waiting in a super line and then waiting for a tiny bit longer at the food window – it was time to hunt down a little metal table in the middle of a big bed of pebbles. Did I mention that the whole place is outside? Well it is . . . as in – outside of the world of tasty tastes that taste so good when they are in the process of being tasted – that is . . .

I got a cheeseburger with fries (being relatively new to the joint – I didn’t know to get a “shack burger” – but worry not . . . because that beast is squarely in my cross-hairs) and a coke. I held off on getting any kind of custard (okay – a quick note – instead of ice cream – they have custard – and it is a good alternative) because I knew that the food would fill me up – and also – I didn’t want it to sit there and melt while I ate the regular food – because I am not anywhere near the camp of people that can eat a milkshake while also eating a hamburger – sorry spike – I just don’t roll that way.

The cheeseburger was simple, juicy, did everything that a burger was supposed to do and by that right – was soooo ridiculously good. It made it’s home in a perfectly sized potato bun (on a side note . . . I really love potato bread in general – I feel like it is the natural progression for me from the white bread that I grew up loving so much – one day I will tell you about the mythical potato bread restaurant that used to be where Wendy’s is in what most people call North Dekalb Mall . . . but what I still know as Market Square – ooh yeah – I’ll tell you alright). The fries were well cooked – golden, crispy and just right. The Coke was also from a good year. Basically the meal was the sum of three good parts . . . taken individually – they were all really good – but then when they were all put together on my table – on my birthday . . . they transcended their individuality to become something special.

I felt like I had kind of missed out on the treat side of the Shake Shack and so I went back a few weeks later and hopped past the long line into what is known as the “B-Line” – which takes you past all of the burger and fry people straight to the world of cones and drinks. I heard a kid ask his mother if the “B-Line” was faster than a roller coaster – then – while pondering that question – I got totally freaked out. I was already past the menu – and all that I could see was a sign that said “NO SHAKES IN THE B-LINE.” But I was in line for a shake . . . and had been for a little while – and was a “Concrete” (one of their treats – that is – I think – like a Blizzard) shake?! What could I get – I couldn’t even see a menu – had the “B-Line” totally backfired on me?! Was the “B-line” faster than a roller coaster?!?

I got to the front of the line and blurted out “I’ll have a purple cow.” After I handed over my $4.75 (ye-ouch!) – I said to the girl “Uhm – what – exactly is a purple cow?” To which she laughed and said “A purple cow is grape soda and vanilla custard.”

As I walked through the city with my “purple cow” in hand . . . I knew that there was a lot right with the world (at least for that singular moment . . . New York is a genius for doling out singular moments – which can swing violently from the top of the mountain to the gutter of hell in the blink of an eye – to no end – to no purpose – and without even pausing – it is a big Saint Bernard with a mind of it’s own that does what it needs to do with nary a thought to all of us fleas hopping around in it’s fur . . .).

Get ye to the Shake Shack – get a burger – try out a purple cow – and fear not the “B-Line” . . . the “B-Line” is your friend – ooh – and after a bit of research – I can unequivocally say that it comes in just a hair faster than a roller coaster . . . just a hair – though.