First off, the decor: WHACK. Picture it, if you can: Super minimal, metal and white paint, cheap tables and uncomfortable chairs, bright lights, and (wait for it...wait for it) an Andy Warhol-esque tribute to the Notorious BIG, a child-like painting of one single Run DMC Adidas shoe, and a bunch of grafitti skateboard decks (a la Pharrell and his little Skateboard P schtick) graced the walls.
Yeah, just like this, but of Biggie instead of Marilyn.
Walnut Chic WHAT WHAT!! Hollah!! Soooooooooooooooo ghetto and tough! So gangsta!! White high school kids driving $80,000 Escalades on $5,000 rims bumping 50 Cent and rapping along like Fitty was telling their life story seem to be the target demographic for this place. Sorry, but the vibe of the inside came off ALL KINDS of wrong. WHACK. Seriously.
Next up, the wait staff: Everyone looked like they either belonged in a Blink 182 video OR like they were trying too hard to somehow skank their way into the Playboy Mansion without the actual pretty people noticing. Given the tragic homage to hip-hop, I was totally confused.
The music: Uber chill downtempo Netmusique-ish tunes, followed by twangy country. WTF?!
Wait...isn't this a BURGER place we were at? Oh yeah, right, the food...
Unfortunately, that was kind of confusing, too. Diners are presented with a checklist of a mind-boggling amount of ingredients and instructed to choose whatever they liked. The good: variety. One could eat here every day for a month and never even come close to having the same sandwich combination twice. The bad news is, well, who really wants sun-dried tomato vinagriette or dried cranberries on a burger? Weird. Way too weird. My chicken breast was thin and kinda dry, but the ginger soy sauce and grilled pineapple helped. The wheat bun was pretty tasty, though.
With all it's shortcomings, I'll probably go back. It's good for a laugh. I hear the milkshakes are pretty decent, although it remains to be seen if they'll bring all the boys to the yard.
Hella word, ya'll. Hella word.