It only took seven months, but we finally managed to drive six miles down the road to experience the pure awesomeness that is Ray's Hell-Burger. If not for word-of-mouth, you'd never know it existed. There is no website. The entrance is nondescript. The modest sign above the door appears to have been created with a word processing program, an inkjet printer, and a piece of computer paper. The decor consists of little more than a half dozen B-movie posters and a world map that patrons are invited to use to document their place of origin via pushpin (If that map is any indication, Ray either has a large global following, or the Foreign Service Officers that live nearby like to brag about where they're going and not where they came from).
One of the first rules of good eatin' is that if the place looks like a dive, the food is probably amazing. Why yes, yes it was.
I had my Nikon with me during dinner, but opted for a simple, grainy iPhone snapshot instead. I think it's appropriate. Like the restaurant, the photo looks substandard, but the burger is still delicious.
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