8 Oz Burger Bar

There's a certain joy in watching a supposedly one-trick pony excel in surprising ways, like an athlete with unexpected acting talent, or a cat with unexpected acting talent. For a far-beyond-the-norm burger joint, roll into 8 Oz.

In the old Novecento spot, 8 Oz feels like a broken-in neighborhood bar (salvaged wood floors, tin ceilings), and's named for its core offering: 8-oz patties formed from Himalayan salt-cured sirloin, tri-tip, short rib, and chuck, all grilled w/ Texas live oak and customizable with gourmet extras, from house-cured bacon, to fried green tomatoes, to green peppercorn aioli, to cave-aged Gruyere, which's already above & beyond, but there's sh'loads more, including:

Snacks & Entrees: a short rib grilled cheese w/ onion marmalade and bel paese, fried Wisconsin cheese curds, fried olives stuffed w/ chorizo, fried mahi sandwiches, sauteed Bloomsdale spinach, truffled potato skins, and mini Kobe corndogs like those found near the whack-a-Yoshi game at the Osaka State Fair.

Drinks: Cocktails both classic (Manhattan, Sidecar, Moscow Mule) and nouveaux (lavender mojitos; the tequila/Lillet Blanc "Aquamiel"), plus micro/Euro-brews in big, 750ml bottles, $5 drafts (Blue Moon, Brooklyn Lager), and $2 cans of Pabst -- which, like candy should be, is also available by the bucket.

Food + Drink: three 5-oz beers paired w/ three sliders of Prime beef, Niman Ranch lamb, pork or, occasionally, ostrich; the Smokey Bacon Bloody Mary, with bacon-infused vodka, house-smoked tomato sauce and, because celery's for cowards, a bacon stirring stick.

Sweet stuff's repped by cupcakes, sundaes, and banana splits, plus funkier choices including caramelized banana rum bread pudding and milkshake flavors like orange creamsicle and pumpkin -- finally breaking out of its typecast as a pie.