Have you ever wanted to spend $28 on a cheeseburger and fries? Boy oh boy, do I have the place for you.
Clickbait-y introduction aside, Good Luck’s massive, four-person platter is worth every penny. I consider myself somewhat of a burger connoisseur, and the one I tried last Wednesday knocked my socks off, took my breath away, and appeared in my dreams that evening.
To celebrate my roommate turning 22, my housemates and I zipped over to the Neighborhood of the Arts to try out Good Luck: a hip, upscale-yet-industrial bar and restaurant that serves giant gourmet versions of American classics, designed to share with the whole table. This is not the place for defensive eaters, as everything on the menu is way too big (and, by extension, way too expensive) for any one person to tackle. Normally, they’re open for dinner until 11 p.m., and serve drinks until 2 a.m.
There, we met up with Good Luck employee and good friend of my roommate, Emma, who got us a seat at the nicest table, a free bottle of champagne, and a pizza on the house. Although I was admittedly wined and dined more than the average customer due to my connections with a staff member, I can say with confidence that I’d go back a hundred times for the quality of my meal alone.
To kick the evening off, our server, Alex, gave us a free bottle of Le Couture Prosecco, which was on the menu for $40. As a college kid who turned 21 back in October, that might have been the most expensive alcohol to ever enter my temple of a body. Sitting at the table with us was Steph, Emma’s roommate and Good Luck bartender, who had drink recommendations aplenty. I tried the Kathy, a froo-froo pink drink made of grapefruit liqueur, St. Germain elderflower liqueur, and lemon juice. Added to that is your choice of vodka, gin, or tequila. If you’re looking for a punch, go with gin or tequila. Looking for a soft, sippable drink, I went with the least punchy option, the vodka. It was wonderfully inoffensive, and went down like a refreshing, slightly flowery glass of juice.
In total, our table of six ordered the chicory salad, the potato salad, two burgers, the Sicilian pizza, and an extra order of fries for good measure, all to share. We were also given a second free margherita pizza, likely thanks to any of Emma and Steph’s friends who were working that evening.
To keep this article a reasonable length, I won’t go into detail about everything I tried, but just know that if I were to die tomorrow, I’d have any one of these items as my last meal. Yes, even (especially) the crispy almost-shoestring french fries, which came with a housemade sauce of ketchup, mayonnaise, and brandy.
Well, everything except the 10-inch personal margherita pizza, which was aggressively average. It was a good, fancy pie, with chunks of mozzarella and a sexy sauce-to-crust ratio, but only by “locations outside of New York City” standards.
I’d especially like to highlight the Sicillian pizza, a square, six-slice behemoth. It was the thickest, lightest crust I’ve ever eaten; the chefs in the backroom must have employed some molecular gastronomy tactics to achieve the crispy, cloudlike, not-chewy-at-all crust.
For those that don’t know, molecular gastronomy is the food science subgenre that gives you smoking martinis cooled to -320 degrees Fahrenheit by liquid nitrogen. Good Luck’s Sicillian pizza defied science that much with its ethereal crunch. Going back to that giant burger, the magical chefs also managed to merge both crispy and fluffy textures in their burger bun. It was toasted to buttery perfection and held between its golden gates an unbelievably juicy, savory piece of meat.
To wrap up our birthday meal, we took a peek at the dessert menu. Now, I’m a firm believer that everyone has two stomachs: the normal one that fills up with normal food, and a second, smaller dessert stomach that can only be satiated by cookies, cakes, and ice creams. We ordered two chocolate cakes that had a cheesecake center and came in a ramekin with a dollop of vanilla ice cream.
Like most nice restaurants, the dessert’s always both too small to share and the most overpriced thing in comparison to the rest of the menu. This cake didn’t do it for me. The exterior was a little too dry and almost crumbly, and the center was a little too liquidy and a lot too rich.
But again, I cannot emphasize how every other aspect of my gustatory experience blew me away. Even with the meal-sharing, Good Luck is a little out of the college kid’s budget. But if you’re looking to splurge or impress your marriage pact match, consider taking a drive. It’s only a block away from the Memorial Arts Gallery. Date night, anyone?