Upon returning to Prague we quickly scanned the internet for a cheap hostel, settling on one a bit further out from the centre: the fabulous Sir Toby's. I'd stayed there once in 2009 and loved their underground bar and all-you-can-eat buffet breakfasts (and I'm not talking about mere cornflakes and toast either - they had that, in addition to muesli and yoghurt and juice and chopped fruit and bacon and eggs and pancakes…) So I was happy to discover that they were still one of the cheaper options, particularly if you opted for one of the bigger dorms.
But we'd arrived late and after dumping our bags I was desperate for something to eat. So we immediately headed out, grabbing one of the hostel's custom-made maps that showed where to eat in the area.
After sussing out a few of the recommended places, we found many were closed and those that were open a bit on the pricey side. Then it started to rain. Disheartened, we headed back to the hostel thinking we'd grab something from one of the nearby convenience stores and just use the hostel kitchen (I admit, when I'm paying for a property with a kitchen - shared or otherwise - I always try to use it. But on this particular night it was late and I was STARVING).
As we approached our hostel I noticed a flickering neon sign directly across the street: Big Mike's. I pointed it out to my boyfriend. "I wonder why that one's not on the map? It's directly opposite the hostel." We crossed the street for a closer look. The windows were obscured by big hand-written signs on fluorescent cardboard: BURGER, PIZZA, GYROS. I hesitated - we normally avoided fast food like the plague, but we were standing in the rain and my stomach was protesting, loudly.
"Fuck it, I'm starving and this place looks cheap" my boyfriend said, pushing the door open. The first thing I noticed was that no-one else was inside, save for one big, beefy guy behind the counter. He looked up at us, curious. I smiled and nervously scanned the menu sign above his head - it was all in Czech. "Ummm - can you tell us what you have to eat?" I tentatively asked. He nodded curtly, reaching over the counter top to hand me a plastic menu with pictures.
As we mused over the menu, we weighed up which artery-clogging dish we would succumb to. "I think I'll have the Big Mike's burger" my boyfriend said, pointing at the 'BURGER' section. I read the brief description. "Shit that sounds like a lot" I said, "…but it does sound good." I was conscious of the guy behind the counter eyeing us impatiently. My stomach rumbled. "Uh - two big Mike's please. And two beers." Screw it, I reasoned. When in Rome, etc.
He nodded in understanding, a bemused smile creeping onto his face. We looked around for somewhere to sit and he pointed towards the back of the room. Another door led to what I presumed was a seating area. Upon entering I immediately noticed two men and a surly looking woman, seated at a table smoking and drinking coffee. Their conversation stopped abruptly. Giving them a weak smile I pulled my boyfriend towards the other end of the room, beneath a wall-mounted television. They eyed us suspiciously, faces solemn.
Our beefy friend from behind the counter walked in and turned on the television above our heads. "Uh, thanks" I muttered, as he browsed the channels with his remote. He settled on one of those woeful music video channels that they insist on screening in many European and Asian bars - the ones blaring sappy pop songs and mind-numbing house music. "I preferred the silence" my boyfriend muttered as our friend walked away. I glanced at the table opposite, still staring at us. "They're just trying to be hospitable" I shrugged.
We sat there in awkward silence while the Czech's continued staring, slowly drawing on their cigarettes. I turned towards the television uncomfortably, feigning interest in the music video. "God we've heard this song everywhere" I muttered to my boyfriend, feeling the eyes at the other end of the room drill into the back of my head.
Finally, the oldest of the three spoke. "Where you from?" he demanded, looking me square in the eye. "Me?" I responded stupidly, "Uh, Australia. Melbourne."
"Australia…" he murmured, nodding in understanding. "I have cousin in Australia."
Is he as friendly as you? I thought to myself, grinning back at him like an idiot. He turned to his companions and muttered something in Czech, I could just make out the words 'English', 'Australia' and 'Melbourne'. They laughed and nodded in agreement with him. I glanced at my boyfriend and his eyes met mine - this was fucking weird.
Suddenly our beefy friend emerged carrying two large plates in each hand. As he carefully lowered the great white discs I inhaled slowly, preparing myself. My eyes widened when I saw what was on my plate. It was the biggest burger I had ever seen.
I looked up at my boyfriend, my mouth agape. Eyes lit with anticipation, he nodded approvingly at me. I gulped. This…thing towered in the centre of the plate, surrounded by a nest of crisp, golden fries. Whoever had assembled it had meticulously dotted the perimeter of the plate with alternating squirts of ketchup and mayonnaise. It was truly a sight for sore eyes. Instinctively, I reached for my iPhone to take a picture but, sensing all eyes in the room upon us, thought better of it.
I turned towards our audience at the far table and forced a smile. "Wow!" I said, trying to appear nonchalant. The old man nodded solemnly, his peers squinting at us through a plume of cigarette smoke.
Taking a deep breath, I nodded at my boyfriend and we simultaneously raised our burgers. It was now or never. I tentatively bit into the spongey flesh, anticipating the worst.
"Fwaaark…. dish ish gwooooood" my boyfriend groaned, his mouth full of meat and bread, ketchup dotting his chin. Encouraged, I slowly began to chew...
'Gwood' was an understatement. In fact, to describe this burger as 'good' would be a great injustice. This burger was divine. The holy grail of fast food. As if on drugs, my brain's reward centre took a powerful pleasure hit. I now understood just how people became addicted to fast food… the fat, the salt, the carbs! It was sensory overload, my taste buds and brain exploding all at once. A cacophony of flavours competed for my attention - the moist flesh of the beef patty, the sugary ketchup, the creamy mustard and juicy caramelised onions sang in sweet harmony with the sour pickles and gooey cheese. I worshipped this thing.
Fervently I inhaled mouthful after succulent mouthful, mopping up the juices with the crunchy, salty fries that I crammed into my mouth in quick succession. Even as my stomach swelled and it became difficult to breathe still I ploughed ahead, determined not to leave so much as a crumb on my plate. The Czech's watched on in silence, their eyes transfixed.
Finally, there was nothing left but debris. Shoulders slumped, I sat back in my chair and stared and the desolate wasteland where once a burger stood. My stomach bulging grotesquely in front of me, the shame and guilt began creeping in.
"We never got our beers," my boyfriend whispered, interrupting my self-flagellation. I glanced across at our Czech spectators who were still eyeing us, waiting to see what would happen next. "I don't care - let's just go" I muttered, hastily gathering my things.
Smiling awkwardly, I shuffled towards the exit. The old man nodded curtly in acknowledgement while his compatriots continued to smoke in silence, their gaze fixed upon us. Our beefy waiter slid the bill across the counter. As I fumbled for my wallet I did the sums in my head: It was ridiculously cheap. But I wasn't about to ask questions. We briskly paid our bill and offered some muffled thanks before scurrying outside.
Back in the room, I went to hang our wet clothes on the windowsill and gazed absentmindedly across the street at the flickering Big Mike's sign. It had certainly been an interesting meal. Just as I was about to turn away the old man emerged, shouting into a phone in Czech. I crouched lower so not to be seen as he paced back and forth... As I watched, he abruptly turned on his heel and disappeared. A few seconds later the flickering Big Mike's sign went out and all four dashed outside, jumping into a nearby car before screeching away.
As their car faded out of view it occurred to me that I would probably never know what the deal was with Big Mike's - why it was so empty, why we felt so uncomfortable, or what we may have unwittingly interrupted by stumbling into that back room. But there was one thing I knew for certain:
They could make a bloody good burger.
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