March 28, 2024 | OPINION | By Asa Gartrell
“Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding.” So says Proverbs 3:5. This small citation was printed beneath a chocolate shake at the In-N-Out Burger in the Cimarron Hills of east Colorado Springs. At the behest of the sammy-slinging mega-chain, I went in blind, hungry and trusting –– not in God per se, but in the inveterate tastes of my tour guide — a Los Angelite who would defend In-N-Out’s supremacy ‘till he’s face-down in a fryer with a mob of foodies at his back.
And so, my sibling in Christ, I followed where his Doc Marten loafers treaded and mimicked the hand gestures and winks that summon the garish miscellany of the ‘secret menu.’ The outcome: a sumptuous double-cutlet with a well-done fry in tow, chased down by a glace au chocolat (what the uninitiated might call a milkshake).
Hungrier than George Clooney holding a piece of toast, I went animal style on that thing. Mmm! I graced the two-cheeked double patty pound cake with a zeal that no sous-chef pep talk could prepare it for. The burger was savory to the last drop. Its every ingredient represented the kind of unity I learned about in Hamburger 101. It turned loose its juice and was gone in seconds. The well-done fry, on the other hand, was utter bread. A shame, but no worse than the original, which had less personality than professional golf. Dip those mamas in the spineless shake and experience the taste of absolutely nothing. Quite refreshing, really.
On the whole, I’d liken the meal to Genesis Seven, the story of Noah’s Ark: a dyed-in-the-wool-worth-its-salt-bona-fide classic that need not be overhyped. Skip the accessories and get extra fry sauce. My best to you and yours.