A couple of years ago, I saw a segment on CBS Sunday Morning on a place called the Heart Attack Grill. The place, as I recalled, was a restaurant where anything even remotely healthy – light beer, diet Coke, low-fat cooking oils – was strictly prohibited. The waitresses were all dressed in slutty nurse outfits, much to the delight of host Bill Geist, being the dirty old man he is.
This place was pushed to the back of my memory until my dad reminded me that it was just outside Phoenix, and that we should make a point of stopping by. And so, we worked in a stop at the Heart Attack Grill before spending several hours walking around the Phoenix Zoo, which turned out to be very, very poor planning on our part.
(Fig 1. Where arteries go to die)The place itself is rather incongruous, painted white with “Heart Attack Grill” spelled out in simple block lettering. There is very little to suggest the pure gastrointestinal nightmares that lay within. My sister, Rachel, brother-in-law, Dan, and niece Diana took seats at the outdoor patio where our waitress gave us the “skinny on our big fat menu,” as she put it.
(Fig 2. Sweeeeeet)They served Coke imported from Mexico. Why Mexico? Because they use pure can sugar instead of corn syrup for sweetening, which gives it a taste almost unrecognisable from the stuff sold here in the States. Basically it tastes as if the Mexicans let the Coke sit out in the vats under the hot sun, then added six or eight thousand pounds of sugar. My pancreas cried with every sip I took.
The menu itself was simple. They served four kinds of hamburgers – one, two, three, or four patties, which they called “bypasses.” I figured that if scrawny little Bill Geist could take down four 1/2 pound patties, I could too. I ordered the “quadruple bypass burger.” The burger came in a bun toasted in pure lard as well as unlimited fries, also cooked in lard. You could literally pick them up and wring the grease out of them.
(Fig 3. food porn)In keeping with the hospital theme, our waitress put hospital wrist bands on each of us, listing what we’d ordered. She was strikingly pretty. Entrancingly pretty. When putting on Diana’s wrist band, she bent over in front of Dan, revealing – as it were – her best assets.
(Fig 4. giggity giggity)The food arrived shortly after. My sandwich was big. Like, really big. The muscles and tendons popped out of my arm when I picked it up. It was slathered in American cheese and grease literally dripped off the bun when I lifted it. It was way too big to tackle all at once, so I decided to pick it apart and eat it one patty at a time.
(Fig 5. Sweet Jesus!)One: The first patty and the top of the bun went down pretty easily. The meat wasn’t anything special, it tasted pretty much like a McDonald’s burger, only bigger, but it tasted okay, especially when I dipped it in ketchup. Rachel and Dan were digging into theirs as well, although they only got the double and triple bypass burgers respectively. I finished the first patty quickly, thinking that this wouldn’t be so bad. About ten minutes later, I would be reconsidering that thought.
(Fig 6. fools)Two: The second patty was a little disgusting to handle, because there was no bun. It was basically a big greasy piece of meat covered with ketchup and melted cheese. I noticed with a sense of horror/admiration that Dan was already done with his and picking away idly at the French fries. By the time I finished the second, my stomach was starting to question my sanity and the third and fourth patties seemed to get bigger and greasier every time I looked at them.
Three: I let out an enormous burp before starting the third, and that relieved some of the pressure on my stomach. For a time it felt like I’d gotten my second wind but that was pretty short lived. Rachel had finished hers and looked as if she might simultaneously cry, fall asleep, and throw up. I felt about the same. My insides started feeling queasy and my gag reflex started to kick in. Rachel and Dan cheered me on, but my stomach wasn’t having any of it. At this point I seriously considered throwing in the towel. I had already eaten a pound and a half of meat and I had started on my second super-sweet Coke. The fourth patty looked the worst. It had lots of cheese, with little pools of grease on its surface, and the bottom half of the bun, which was completely soaked in lard. Sighing, I finished the third and choked a bit as it all tried to come back up.
“Frank, it’s okay. You really don’t have to finish it.”
“No, I’m going to do it. All I have-” I stopped midsentence as I hiccuped and nearly threw up all over the table.
It took me about ten minutes to eat the last patty. I’ve climbed mountains, gone days without sleeping, run eighteen miles straight, broken bones, torn ligaments, and saw Fall Out Boy in concert.
With shaking fingers, I picked up the last bite and washed it down with Coke, doing everything I could to suppress my gag reflex. Rachel, Dan, Diana, and the waitress cheered and applauded.
“There is no God,” I moaned and put my head down on the table.
But hey, you got touched by a hot girl who showed you her boobies, so technically, it was the best thing you’ve ever done.
That place looks amazing!! I want to go to the state many people describe as Satan’s armpit just to go there! You had me at Mexican coke.
Hmm. Sounds kind of appealing in a kind of gross way. But then, the movie Super Size Me made me crave a Big Mac.
Yes – very poor planning on the timing….
Oh My God Frank, I’m doubled over with laughter, you are freaking hysterical. You poor soul, there is such thing as over doing it on the cow dude, damn, your not fat enough to eat like that. But that little nurse made it all worth it didn’t she ! P.S. Diana is too cute !
I just got a clogged artery myself. I’m a sissy and I wouldn’t have gone past the first one. I would’ve eaten 2 pounds of fries, though.And dude, the Latin American Coca-Cola is better. Can sugar may be sweeter than corn syrup, but it’s healthier.
Prin: True.Felicia: Satan’s armpit? I thought that was Nevada. Although I guess Arizona isn’t too far behind.12ontheinside: Hey, that movie did the same thing with me too!Mom: Blame your daughter…TGYDBHTM: I’m not fat enough to eat like that…yet. Ask me again in 10 years. Or 5.Andy: Eh, it was too sweet for me. Too Pepsi-ish.
You know this was like porn to me, right? Seriously, good for you? You can take that last line as a good for you! or well, you know.
OMG, I think my arteries clogged just reading this.
WOW…And I love mexican diet coke. YUM.There is a show called man Vs food on travel channel. He goes to all these CRAZY places and eats amazing amounts of JUNK. Its out of control. I think your place would totally make the cut.
Despite full, you look happy in the last photo
I love how the pictures all click big. I’d sooo do that hot nurse-waitress chick, reeerr!They only get to eat the lettuce trimmings though. Sad. PS: I gained 10 pounds reading this post. Thanks alot.
So… did you get laid?
(P.S. GROSS!!! The only thing that could have made it worse would be BACON!)
I’m pretty sure that the quadruple bypass burger was featured on that website This Is Why You’re Fat. I remember thinking that it was photoshopped or simply made for that site. You found (and conquered) something that I didn’t believe existed. Well done, sir.Next assignment for you: Tantric sex.
i still can’t believe you actually ate that thingwell, actually, i mostly can’t believe that place really exists
Holy crap Frank!!! I laughed fairly hard at that….but the food sounded sooooo disgusting!!!! UGH! Soooooo much grease……but hey, now you have a great story, right?!
We might have to go there when we go lol.That pitiful look on your face when you were leaning over the table was adorable though! XD
Dude, you’re hilarious. I was LOLing alll throughout the post. Those waitresses?! Helllllo!
I likie! One question: Could one smoke cigarettes in there, if one were so inclined? If not, they might as well rename the place to Heart Attack Grill–Lite.Looks and reads like a good fun place, though. Congrats on your cow-swallowing! +o)
That chick is, in fact, pretty. You are brave, my man. You know it was all worth it for that pic with the nurse at the end (wink). I LOVE mexican cokes!!! LOVE. So don’t be hatin’ Frank.
Why would I be hatin’? I’m addicted to Coke, American or Mexican.The drink, not the drug…*clears throat*