Paul's Place: A party in our mouths.

(Photo: Angela L)
What we love: the milkshakes, the burgers, the milkshakes, Matt the Manager, the milkshakes, the rough-gruff-nicer-than-they-look staff, the milkshakes, the prices, the milkshakes.

What we could live without: limited seating, no reservations, cash only, have we mentioned how much we love the milkshakes???

Burger scale: A+

Price range: $ out of $$$$

Payment method: Cash only


If it's possible to fall in love with a diner at first sight, then we're in love. We can't think of a better place to kick off the Burger Series than to start at Paul's Place.

The kitschy no-frills diner on Second Ave between 7th Street and St Marks Place is charmingly authentic, and if we didn't just wade through pools of alterna-deviant youngsters on St. Marks to get there, we might have thought a freak global-warming twister accidentally brought us to middle-America-pre-fab-dinerland, circa 1950. As long as 1950s pre-fab diners have flat screen TVs, a model train, kewpie dolls, dangling mobiles and nice accomodating managers named Matt, that is. (We love Matt. Why aren't more managers like Matt???)

(Photos: Youngna Park, New York Magazine)











While some may accuse Paul of poor taste when it comes to interior design, few would say the same when it comes to food. Despite its standard diner menu, the restaurant does not turn out standard diner fare -- everything is fresh and solidly good. Think diner food on steroids.

A quick glance at the menu where nothing costs more than $10, and...Wow, Beef Burger Tartare. We'd be hard pressed to find any other diner in the five boroughs that has such confidence in the freshness and quality of its beef that it'd willingly serve its burgers to you uncooked with a raw egg cracked over it. For less than the cost of an arm and a leg, nonetheless.

(Photo: Sara H)

Our juicy 1/2 burgers are cooked to order and served by Paul's very efficient staff. They look silly and oversized, jutting about an half inch out over the bun. A bite, however, quells our internal debate over burger aesthetics.

The burger itself is near perfect although a little crumbly, an indication of 100% pure beef (or turkey if that's your preference) without the fillers that are often used to hold ground meat in patty form. The innocuous bun that brings to mind store-bought 8-packs from childhood family cookouts are suprisingly deliciously buttery. So much so that we throw caution to the wind and eat the entire bun puffy consequences be damned. Heck, we even order ourselves a milkshake. It comes made just the way milkshakes should be made. With ice cream. It's a party in our mouths, and everyone's invited.

Burgers at Paul's? Done just the way burgers should be done. We passed on the Tartare, however. We were too busy sucking down milkshakes.

Burgers at Pauls

Would we go back to Paul's again? Why yes, we sure as hell would.