The term "greasy spoon" is inherently unappetizing, so I like to engage three simple rules for appreciating this lower echelon of culinary establishments. Rule Number One: If you can't see the cockroaches, they aren't really there. Rule Number Two: If you order a cheeseburger while intoxicated, the calories don't count. Rule Number Three: Rapidly prepared, consistently tasty food trumps all shortcomings.

There's no doubt that this 24-hour eatery is a little rough around the edges. Glittery vinyl seats offer prime views of the seedy industrial surroundings and the smell of grease permeates the air. The inked-up waitresses are the no-nonsense career kind, the cook is a short-order wizard, and you can buy just about anything on the menu for a fiver. Make no mistake about it; people come here because they're drunk. They keep coming here because of the One and Only. The burger to end all burgers, Kevin's One and Only is birthed onto the grill with an ice-cream scoop, gussied up with special seasonings and charred perfectly before being served up to salivating patrons. The price of my favorite new addiction is a whopping three bucks. Did you just hear the angels sing? Wait, maybe that was the cockroaches.

Night time tends to attract an impressive crowd of soused scenesters, and numbers have intensified since Kevin's started serving liquor and hosting weekend karaoke jams. By the time the sun comes out, the dive is teeming with work-a-day types ordering up biscuits & gravy, steak & eggs, and various other takes on artery-clogging ampersand staples.

Centerstage Reviewer: K. Tighe