Of course, the comforting aspect at Kuby’s extends to their food. Most of the menu is luminescent with the feeling of a myriad of grandmas’ (Omas, in this case) cooking. Speaking of: I’ve been going to Kuby’s for years, and, for some very stupid reason, I’ve never ordered the Fridkadellen. The Frikadellen is the German-style hamburger, and it will send churning locomotives of comfort through you, from your big toe to your hair. The sensation of eating Kuby's version of a burger is akin to:
- A hug from Santa Claus
- Putting on plush socks after a shower
- The bear skin Leonardo DiCaprio wears in The Revenant
A first bite will provide that warmth I keep going on about: It has the flavor profile of a damn good meatloaf. Softened onions grace the patty, and it’s juicy. The seasonings are akin to smelling the steam coming off a homemade meat stew. Crisp bacon, not-too-thin, brings the meatloafiness together, which means it’s a must-add to the burger. I may or may not have dipped a small corner of a Frikadellen cross-section into my personal Heinz ketchup tub. Don’t judge, OK? I’m in a painting, remember. You might be convinced, halfway through this burger, that a relative of yours is in the kitchen making sandwiches of leftover meatloaf.
Kuby's is the beautiful place with the cuckoo clock in the dining room at 6601 Snider Plaza.