Once upon a March 27, it was Tom’s thirteenth birthday, and we went to Zombie Burger in Des Moines to celebrate.
I was traveling light (Rule #7) with kickass partners (Rule #8) to find a good burger lunch, and Zombie Burger + Drink Lab finally came into our line of sight after months of dreaming, because, you know, one should enjoy the little things (Rule #32). And what’s more enjoyable than a GOREmet burger?
They’ve got great branding and Zombie decor, not to mention delicious GOREmet burgers and 120+beers to choose from. After a little limbering up (Rule # 18), I ordered the Flamethrower–a tasty burger with Buffalo sauce, blue cheese, onion rings and ranch dressing. I also had a Backpocket Slingshot Dunkel (creepy-good). The birthday boy went for the Dead Moines, which bragged smoked gouda, crispy prosciutto, Niman Ranch ham and truffle mayo. Jake hoisted a Planet Terror, the burger with BBQ sauce, bacon, cheddar cheese, ranch dressing and caramelized onion. And somehow I don’t know what Michelle ordered, aside from her cocktail (gluten-free), The Socket, complete with eyeball garnish.
Like Lucky Charms, my burger was magically delicious, even though I didn’t order a double tap (Rule #2) or a triple tap (insurance for the truly hungry, I suppose). Though I thought it was a bit of a pedestrian choice for him (since they had other cool stuff like the Undead Elvis, the Trailer Trash Zombie and The Boomstick to try) Jake loved his burger so fast I didn’t even get a taste. The boy was hungry. I know, because he helped me eat my poutine, which was lovely.
Tom wasn’t so easily amused. “Fruit is good, and cake is good,” the new teenager mused, “but the combination–fruitcake–isn’t so good.” Personally, I thought he was full of trailer trash, because, to me, it was freaking special. But to each his own.
Thirteen-year-old Tom eating a burger.
Like I said, I don’t know what Michelle had, but she said it was good.
We sat around noshing on our final fries while enjoying the zombie art and our dancing tastebuds. To be sure, this meal was going to require a little cardio (Rule #1) to burn off, but no matter. We knew our way out (Rule #22), which was good, because the place was packed. Jostling through the mob provided exercise, as did the nice little hike to our car, a workable calorie-burner. After checking the backseat (Rule #31) and buckling our seatbelts (Rule #4), we eased on down the road.
As I looked into the rearview mirror, I could see only one problem from a beer guy’s perspective. Despite having a solid 120 beers to choose from–many which were truly excellent–I couldn’t help but be annoyed that so few were brewed locally and only one (my Slingshot) was on tap. Great burgers, but that’s a party foul, in my opinion.
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