burgerholic

This is me. Me, stuffing my face. Me, stuffing my face with one of the best burgers you can find, at a magical place called Shake Shack in New York City.

Back when B and I lived in New York, B was on a quest to find the best burger in New York, and I got to reap the benefits of his labor by eating very well. These pictures were taken on one of our last days in the city, as we frantically tried to encapsulate all of our “favorite things” into those finals days when we were neither working nor in seminary nor fighting nor packing nor traveling nor crying. (Have you heard? Moving is hard.)

This week, B is in finals for med school, which means I hardly see him and he feels like he’s dying. But NEXT week–it is a dream!–next week, we’re heading back to New York for five days to spend time with friends, and, of course, continue B’s hunt for the perfect burger. Yes, we will head to Shake Shack. Also on our list? We have reservations for Minetta Tavern, where we will have their $26 Black Label Burger. It costs more than their steak. I expect nothing less from New York.

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