Cheeseburgers: The Great American Novel

The first story I ever wrote about Pete’s was my Catcher In The Rye — a great American tale about phonies that captured the hearts and minds of more readers than I ever dreamed possible. I can’t explain the phenomenon, but to date it’s perhaps the most read piece of writing I’ve ever produced. The difference between myself and J.D. Salinger, is 1) my follow-up Pete’s story was perhaps even more popular than the first and 2) I have no intention of recluding myself into an embarrassment of patrician hermitude, at least not while there are Big Pete’s to eat and homemade chips to accompany them.

Pete’s soft re-opened under new ownership earlier this spring, if such a thing can be possible. And in doing so, it felt like it never left. Sure the bar is different, but the horseshoe watering trough was one of the few improvements made with the first Pete’s re-open last year. How often can you say that something is so improved by returning to its former mediocrity? By that I cast no aspersion on the Big Pete or any of its brethren food. Everything about Pete’s 3.0 — or 4.0 or 8.0, I’ve lost count — is utterly divine in how ordinary it is. Pete’s virtue has always been a solid burger served at a solid price with some solid arcade games nearby. You can still dress it with cheese or bacon, adorn it with sundry fried pickles or onion rings or jalapenos and just be yourself. However unremarkable that is.

Pro Tip — I’ve invented a food challenge called the Pete’s Social Club Grand Prix. Get tables at Social Southern Table and Pete’s. Order a Big Pete at one and the Smoked Fried Chicken at the other. If you can finish both, sprinting between restaurants without Marc Krampe noticing, you win a shadow-boxed copy of my first Pete’s article.

Pete’s is located at 3903 Johnston St. in Lafayette.