There’s an old saying…
Doing the same thing over and over expecting a different outcome is the definition of insanity.

Not true, of course.
Otherwise 80-percent of our friends and every politician would be on heavy-duty meds.

Case in point is my relationship with Zippys and Big City Diner.

Zippys you know about.

Its gone to hell but I keep giving them just one more chance.
And one more, and one more.

To say it keeps disappointing me would be an understatement.

Maybe I’m insane.
Or just a real nice guy.

I pick #2.

Getting back to Big City Diner – we have to start off with the story of the patty melt.

Now, a patty melt is a specific type of burger.

It consists of a hamburger patty and Cheddar or Swiss cheese along with a hint of onions between two slices of grilled rye bread.

I don’t know who invented it but he or she is a hero in my eyes.

This is from Red Robin in Vegas.

Courtesy of the wife who takes a picture of everything she eats.
And if I’m within 50 feet of her, she takes a picture of my stuff too.

Amazing woman.

When done well, it’s heaven in your mouth.
The patty melt, not the picture.

There are two places I’ve found that do it right.

One is Sam’s Place at the Navy-Marine Golf Course and the other is Red Robin in Las Vegas as noted above.
The Yum Yum Tree used to make great ones but they disappeared eons ago.

The Big City Diner sells what it calls a Sista Patty Melt.

They can make what they want but shouldn’t call it something that it isn’t.

It ain’t a patty melt and it ain’t my sista.

It bears no resemblance to the delightful picture above.

I have no idea what it is – except bad.

Bad enough it should be on Zippys’ menu.

That is an actual picture of the suspect – taken when I had to pause to settle my nerves and find the strength to continue.

The first time I had their patty melt, I was amazed in a bad way.

A hamburger patty with jack cheese, way too many mushrooms, onions, a big glob of Thousand Island dressing all squeezed between two pieces of Texas Bread – whatever that is – held together with some toothpicks.

It had somewhat of a sour taste.
Maybe the salad dressing.

It wasn’t a patty melt.
Not even close.

It was a gut bomb.

For those who have lived a sheltered life, here is the Urban Dictionary definition:

A gut bomb is usually a super-sized fast food or greasy spoon diner food item that, when ingested, immediately explodes in your gut, decimating your stomach lining.
The item usually has a very short (but painful) residence time in your digestive tract before performing a rapid exit to the outside world, and being released back into the wild.

Now you too can do restaurant reviews with authority.

Anyway, a month or so later we went back and stupid me ordered it again.
I always give people and things a second chance.

It was as bad as before.
It’s nice to see some consistency in this world.

Being a person that never learns my lesson, I gave it a shot again last week, this time saying no Thousand Island dressing.

That was the same night my wife called me “old”.
I should have known things were not going to turn out well.

It was only marginally better.

The problem is there aren’t many positives so getting rid of one negative doesn’t help that much.

There’s nothing wrong with throwing a bunch of stuff together to see what you get.
I do that all the time.

You should see some of the stuff I’ve built in my garage.

But I don’t hang it on a poster and invite people to buy it sight unseen.

Then again there’s no excuse for me to keep ordering it – expecting it to get better.

This whole thing is making me grumpy.

Their fried rice is good though.