The neighborhood bar holds a kind of mythic status. It’s an archetype that is in most of our heads, but few of our actual neighborhoods. I must have driven by Billy’s On Burnet a hundred times, often wondering what it was like inside. Having finally ventured inside, I think we may have discovered the perfect neighborhood burger bar.
When you sit on the porch at Billy’s, you don’t have your own conversation. You inevitably get drawn into a common conversation with everyone else out there (likely including Billy himself). The whole place–inside and out–just exudes friendliness.
I went with the Billy Burger. Solid.
Eliza had the veggie burger. An uncharacteristic choice, but she liked it.
When there are fried pies on the menu, we have a hard time saying no. So we didn’t.