Sometimes, it really is all about that old real estate adage: “location, location, location.” Take Triple-O’s. Boasting “organic” beef patties, freshly baked buns and a hefty all-day breakfast section, this 70-plus-year-old burger chain’s popularity with diners should be a no-brainer. But thanks to its bizarre location in a back corner that sees little foot traffic, the black-shirted staff stand bored behind an empty counter, waiting for customers, who are, instead, busy queuing for Mos Burger downstairs. Unlike other under-frequented restaurants, Triple-O’s competent staff is somewhat able to shake off that “deer-in-the-headlights” look to meet our sizeable order—in English—with minimal confusion or brow wrinkling. Strange requests are met with aplomb (combo meals, which include fries and a 12oz soft drink, are a better deal than a la carte and substitutions are allowed). Food is brought to the table with a gracious smile. And all the little thoughtful details have been taken care of: wet naps for messy eaters and extra utensils for inveterate sharers. Trust us, you will need plenty of both. Triple-O’s official motto is “If you’re not proud of it, don’t serve it,” but that motto could easily be changed to, “This burger will explode all over your face.” A teetering tower of beef patty, iceberg lettuce and tomato crowned with a slice of dill pickle and bathed in luxurious amounts of “Triple-O” sauce (otherwise known as Thousand Island dressing), these burgers are not for people on dates or family get-togethers, or for the faint of heart. That holds true whether you order the “original burger”, “B C Burger” (with bacon and cheese), or even the “veggie burger”. This quality extends to non-burger items as well: milkshakes (choice of vanilla, strawberry, chocolate or blueberry) are satisfyingly thick and unctuous, rendering a straw nearly useless. Hash browns yield a satisfying crunch when bitten into; fries are meaty and thick. Promising breakfast selections include the optimistically named “The Champ”, a mélange of omelets, sautéed mushroom and melted cheese on a toasted bun. Warning: an inexplicable fondness for garlic leads to a liberal sprinkling on just about anything that will take it, from the chicken supreme burger to the Caesar salad. For the few disappointments—a veggie burger that tastes like it is made entirely of bread, a beef gravy tasting solely of liquid smoke, and thin beef patties—an extra beef patty is likely to solve that. The lingering lack of customers is less easy to fix.
