What could be better for BurgerDogBoy than a great burger? How about a FABULOUS burger served by a beautiful Asian woman? Oh yeah.
The rumor about the quality of burgers at Pickle Time had reached me all the way down in Portland. Road trip!
Duvall is a bedroom community east of Seattle, a quiet little burg, with a “main street” (named Main), and some cute little shops, the requisite number of bars, and other amenities. I drove up and down the length of Main twice before I figured out that I was at the wrong end of the strip.
Course correction, I found Pickle Time in no time. I was a bit nervous, really, it was nearly 3pm, and I had horrible visions of Pickle Time being one of those places tha locks the doors right after lunch. But nope! Score!
A beautiful smile greeted me as I walked in and perused the lengthy menu board of specialty burgers. I hit on the Blue Cheese, which came with lettuce, tomato, chunky blue cheese dressing, and a red onion slice. I added a side of rings after Ms. “You want booger?” assured me they were made in-house. A bottle of water. Paid. Went to wash my hands. Sat down. Then I spied the pickle jar. Returned to counter. “Want pickle,” sez I, and she tonged one out of the jar, and ask me “you want slice?” “Oh yeah.”
She took it to the kitchen and the massive cuke has been quartered. First bite, almost cried. Second bite, did cry. Now, THIS, was a pickle!
Ms Lovely brought the burger and rings, and I dove into them. Rings, superb. Burger? Superber!
Hand made patty, (look, you can tell from the pic below), a little seasoning, a nice char, and gobs of chunky blue cheese. Rings? Crispy, beerish tasting batter, not greasy.
My eyes roll back into my head. A memory of a sunny day, eating burgers, drinking Carlsberg on an island an hour out from Hong Kong. One of my life’s perfect days.
And this one BTW? All you bozos that think the perfect Washington burger is Dick’s? You be horribly misguided! You. And you. And you over there. Drive to Duvall, WA, for no other reason than to enjoy Pickle Time.
In retrospect, I should have asked my hostess what she was doing for dinner, as every time I left town, Mrs. Burgerdogboy was out having her own “adventures.’ She preferred sausage, to burgers, for those times, however. LOL
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