What a difference some miles and a day make.
On Thursday I stopped at the 33 Diner in Rockbridge, Ohio for a cheeseburger and a cup of coffee. I ordered my burger medium rare, with just a little mayonnaise. I watched, amazed, as the grill cook dropped a very nice, hand-pattied burger that looked to be about a third of a pound, onto the grill and immediately, using a spatula, put just about all of her considerable weight on it to flatten it completely. She came back to it a couple of more times to reflatten the patty as it cooked, carefully making certain there could be no juice left within a foot of the meat. But she was not satisfied. She then placed a steak weight on the meat, giving it a good body slam, and then left it for about four minutes before returning to flip it over and top it again with the weight. A few minutes later she removed the weight, hit it again with the spatula, and then topped the crispy-critter of a beef patty with a slice of cheese and immediately placed the thing on a cold bun before the cheese could so much as get slightly warmed. My cheeseburger, for some reason, turned out to be neither medium rare nor juicy. I did take two bites before giving up. When I went to the cash register to pay the check the grill cook came over to take my money and asked if the cheeseburger was not rare enough for me. I allowed as how it was just a tad to done, got my change and left.
Today I finally made it to Urbana, Ohio for some hamburgers at Crabill's (look it up, as it's been reviewed here). I've been promising myself a trip to Crabill's for more than a year and I'm glad I finally made it. It's a really small place with about eight stools at a low counter, and not much room for anyone to stand while waiting for a seat. I ordered four cheeseburgers and a bottle of Stewart's root beer. The grill cook kept busy turning balls of beef into burgers and the counter gal put out the buns for the cook to top with the finished product. Then she'd add the condiments -- they have brown mustard, relish, chopped onions and catsup (although I didn't see any of the red stuff around). I ordered mine with mustard, relish and onions. They burgers were wonderful, the root beer terrific, and the experience was great fun. I sat at the counter marveling at the speed and dexterity of both the grill cook and the counter gal.
I turned the outing into a double-header with a stop on the way home at Henry's, on U.S. 40 near West Jeffereson, Ohio (also reviewed here). I'm not much of an eater of sweets, but I ordered a slice of lemon meringue pie and a cup of coffee. Nice, but the slice of pie was huge. I was last at Henry's about 15 years ago. Except for the new paint on the outside of this former gas station, and the more faded sign by the road, it doesn't seem to have changed a bit.