There is NOTHING on this Earth like the craving of a White Castle Slyder…

“Dad, I’m hungry”, says my son as we drive past Giants Stadium on route 17, in New Jersey.

“I already had lunch, Tommy, what do you want?”

“I don’t know, whats around here, pops.”

And then it happened. We ascended upon the shiny white fortress of hamburger bliss: The one, the only White Castle. “Jeez, I don’t really want to stop here because…”

“Yeah dad…I want Slyders! Oh please pop, I need them – oh my God, I crave them…oh please, oh please!”

Now I didn’t want to stop there because I knew that I would fall to the temptation of the beefy and oniony goodness of a succulent White Castle cheeseburger – or ten. If you love these burgers then you are well aware of the addiction that grabs you by the taste buds and drags you before the Castle’s pearly gates. You could have just eaten Thanksgiving dinner but there will always be room for a sack of those evil Slyders of beefdom.

If you’ve never eaten a White Castle burger, it’s almost hard to explain what it is about them that grips the common man and brings him to his knees. If you were asked why you loved the sunset, you might have no other explanation other than it is so beautiful. And maybe that’s all one can say is that these burgers possess a beauty that can be found in nothing else on this planet. The problem is that if you begin to think about these burgers ahead of time, the Pavlovian response is uncanny and your mind will not clear or function properly. The saliva glands will overflow and brain cells will fire, but they will mimic the sound of small onion bits crackling on the grill in a heap of greasy madness.

Ever see the movie Harold and Kumar go to White Castle? Two college guys spend an entire night trying to get to this place of nirvana, facing one obstacle after another. The more they think about the burgers, the more they lose their minds as they froth with delirious anticipation. Finally upon arrival they order enough for 40 people and devour each and every last one - Of course followed by the obligatory howling belch.

If you have or haven’t ever had a White Castle Burger, the question is basically the same: What the hell are they made of and what makes them so addictive? Maybe a little background information first. White Castle is 87 years-old and is America’s oldest fast food burger restaurant chain. In 1921, two dudes from Wichita, Kansas had a kick-ass recipe and wanted to share it with the world. The problem was that several years earlier the meat packing industry had been exposed for horrendous health and safety violations in the 1906 novel by Upton Sinclair, The Jungle. People were hesitant to eat meat prepared outside of the home, but the two men were determined to change public perception. They built pristine white, pre-fab little buildings with stainless steel interiors and dressed all employees in sparkling white uniforms. But the unique cooking process and the amazing flavor of the burgers is what drove the company’s success.

But the question remains – what the hell is a White Castle burger and what makes it so god damned good – goddammit?! First off, the burgers patties are tiny, wafer thin squares maybe 2 1/2” x 2 1/2” and they have five holes punched through them. They are cooked on a grill covered in a bed of chopped onion bits while the steam and grease rises through the holes. The equally small, square buns are placed on top of the burger as it cooks, allowing the steam and the juices to permeate the bread, creating one consistent flavor throughout. And I still don’t know if I’ve answered what the hell they are because they simply don’t taste like any other burger in the world. They almost resemble particleboard lined in vast rows upon the monstrous grease laden cooking surface. The texture and consistency is like nothing else – steamy, juicy, melty, almost buttery mouth-watery, and mega-greasy. As I said, the flavors of the meat, onion, cheese, pickle, ketchup and bun kind of marries and creates a unique burger eating flavor experience.

Now along with that unique burger eating flavor experience goes a unique bathroom going experience. I know here in New Jersey we also refer to the place as Fart Castle because the gas that is produced by these burgers is also unique to anything else you may have experienced. When that greasy, fat laden mixture hits your colon, alarms sound as the rumbling can be heard from more than 50 feet away. There simply are no farts that carry the deadly, molten stench of a White Castle meal – and that can be verified by those who have suffered the aftershock of late night Slyder run. Offically trademarked as “Slyders” because of the ease one can slide it down the gullet, no mere mortal orders only one or two of these beastly stink producers. The average daytime order is around six, but the gig has always been to see what idiot in the group can eat the most at 3am after a night of drinking and cavorting. My personal record back in the day is 16 but I have seen numbskulls polish off 30 or more and spend the entire next morning spray-painting the porcelain Castle catcher.

Yes, a meal at the WC can cause bouts of sharting that will be long remembered. Not long ago I ingested ten cheeseburgers and my Jeep smelled like a sewerage treatment plant for two weeks. The air quality in the auto was definitely unsafe for human occupancy and the once tan colored seats are now a cavalcade of rustic earth tones. Just as the burgers are unique, the smell and sheer heat of the flatulance produced by these meat squares are patented as well. When the digestive juices mix with the ingredients of a Slyder – the same evil methane is created that took out the ancient city of Pompei. Rumor has it that White Castle corporate is working with the Division of Homeland Security on a combatant for regional terror. My guess is that the ammo produced by a triple cheeseburger and a side of rings could take out an entire gaggle of goat jockeys. Lemme at ‘em - I’ll show those f@#kers a true-blue patriot! (Or a true brown one.)

The nearest Castle to me is 25 minutes away and right now I’m jonesing like a mutha! Lesson to the writer: Never do an article on the beefy goodness of White Castle while scribing on an empty stomach.

- Z