Shack Attack

Manhattan Must

It is dangerous working near 23rd and Madison Park. Not because of the idling buses, noisy and sometimes dangerous construction, or the frustrated people at the TWC store. It's the arteries, waistline, and cholesterols count that is subject to peril. Who can resist the ease and convenience of the Shake Shack? People travel miles away, come from lands far away to partake in the Shack and all I have to do is walk two short blocks. Luckily the long line - often wrapped halfway around the park- is enough to deter me. Sometimes walking home at night, the line is short beckons, calling me like a pusher selling his goods and I can't resist. I just have to stop in and grab a burger, fries, and/or custard. November is a killer for me since pumpkin pie custard gets added frequently as the flavor-of-the-day. Some veggie friends get the 'shroom burger but I'm a meat gal, born and raised in Texas, so the drippy, juicy, Shack Burger is my choice of poison. With a side of golden, crispy fries, no trans fat, I'm a happy camper when my order buzzer rings telling me heaven is on the way to my tummy. But damn those lines! At least I can check the cam. Lucky me?