I did not discover the Clover Grill, it more or less found me.
Several days ago, I was walking aimlessly after purposely walking all over the French Quarter looking at and visiting a half-dozen historic homes with loads of history and feeling quite dizzy and famished. History can certainly do that to a person I reckon.
I didn’t want to eat at a restaurant but didn’t want to eat at a bar either surrounded by drunk people in the middle of the day, and just so I happened to stop right in front of this burger joint and decided to go in for a try. Burger in NOLA, why not?!?
There were two people behind that small counter. The cook and a server I am guessing. And a few regulars dotted inside this small burger restaurant. The server looked like a younger, yet less cartoonish Popeye with a big red gash on his forehead. All he’s missing is Olive and a can of spinach. Guessing how fresh gash looked, he must have gotten that fairly recently. And he later confirmed to one of the regulars that he did…in a fight with the cook no less. Hm..was he kidding? I wasn’t sure.
This is a dive place, so I don’t expect anything less than this, so am not too surprised but am certainly amused. Finally, something interesting aside from the expected.
Well. On the day I was there, the Saints lost. And he was happy. In fact, I was thinking that he’s almost looking for another fight. He made it a point to tell everyone that walked in through the restaurant door that he’s happy that the Saints lost. Well now, I am guessing he may be sporting more than one gash if I stayed longer in NOLA to find out. LOL.
I didn’t. But the point was that this meal provided me some unexpected amusement aside from the delicious but greasy burger and fries. At one point, he poured a cup of water and placed it in front of me, and when I thanked him, he said that it wasn’t for me. But if I would like a cup of water, he will pour me one. Hah ha. Funny. But he was serious. He ended up giving me that cup of water and pouring another one for another person.
Anyway..he also made some risqué jokes to his general regulars which I ignored or pretended to ignore (seriously, who can ignore these types of comments unless they really don’t understand them) and won’t repeat here, but it was mightily fun (and a bit naughty) to sit there and just people watch and enjoyed my time at the sinful, yet historically decadent French Quarter.
Compliments to the cook who made my burger without cheese and no mayo as requested. Thank you for the wonderful greasy food and entertaining venue.
And for those of you wondering why I don’t have pictures…well, when I am that amused, I would not pull my camera out (not even the cell phone cam) to take a picture of the food. Not because it’s not safe, nope, it was quite safe…it’s because I didn’t feel like taking a picture at that point. You can probably query for a picture on the internet though as I am sure others did take them.