If we were to draw a map of notable New York eating spots, the one closest to my apartment would be Danny Meyer's fairly new media burger darling Shake Shack. I've been to Shake Shack before but I didn't document it. Having eaten there last night, you may now enjoy this official document of my meal there, complete with photo:

From left to right you will see: (i) lemonade, (ii) Shack burger, (iii) crinkle fries.

Since the burger at Shake Shack was recently voted Best Burger in New York (by New York Magazine) let's focus on that. I really enjoyed this burger. The meat makes its presence known, but isn't overwhelming. Its texture is highly unusual for a burger: it feels like it's raw, but you know it's cooked. It's that tender. That's the best way to describe a Shack burger: "tastes like it's raw, but it's cooked." That should be on their t-shirt.

You probably noticed that this post is titled "Shake Shack Squirrel Attack." There's a funny story to tell you here, though it's a funny story only in that I wasn't the victim---so it's a mean-spirited funny story, but the victim was laughing herself, so it's not so mean-spirited.

See, as I ate my burger yesterday I sat at a table closer to the Shack than the cluster of trees that comprise a fertile section of Madison Square Park. (Shake Shack is located in Madison Square Park.) A woman sat near this cluster of trees. And as she ate, suddenly this big scary squirrel descended upon her table.

"Go away!" she pleaded. She stood up. She was scared.

"Shoo! Go away!" she pressed. People turned to look.

The squirrel was undeterred. He landed on the chair opposite where she was sitting.

"Go away!" the woman yelled. She took a french fry and threw it at the squirrel.

Here's where it got funny. Just as the squirrel was going to take the french fry, a large bird swooped down and grabbed the fry and flew away. Everyone laughed (including the woman.)

"Oh Lord!" she yelped and threw another french fry. The squirrel took it and ran up the tree.

The woman sat back down and continued eating. Life resumed as it was---we all ate our burgers gladly--until, there he was again: the squirrel returned.

"Nuh uh," growled the woman, "No more! Get gone!"

The squirrel hopped on the table.

"Please! Oh Lord!" The woman threw more french fries at the squirel, which he ate as if they were acorns. The woman changed her table and the squirrel went away.

Later he returned and looked my way, but I was done. When eating at Shake Shack, bring your squirrel spray.