Dave K.
Yelp
Maybe it's a problem when your main airport is PDX in Portland, where the food is good and the prices are street prices, because then the stark abuse of other airport food offerings is even more insulting and depressing. But the Impossible Burger at True Burger, Terminal 7, and the fries which accompanied it, were so sallow, flavorless, and tepid, that I am unsure I have access to the needed adjectives to adequately describe this act of monetary and culinary abuse. Still, I will try.
New York likes to think of itself as "all that," a place of culture, diversity, and exceptional food. Great museums, music, and restaurants. A global meeting place of all the nations. But it is also the town of the street hustle, Bernie Madoff, and Donald Trump. Dishonesty and rapaciousness are as much a part of the culture as anything else, and True Burger today clearly decreed they are part of the scammers, the muggers, and pickpockets of a Dickensian nightmare scene.
I watched one of the two "cooks" take out a bag of frozen fries. I saw him drop them into the fryer. I waited the 10 minutes (that part was fast, thus earning half a star). Yet perhaps there was no oil in the fryer? There would not have been sufficient time for even an undercooked fry to become as cold as what they handed me. This was an impressive feat of prestidigitation, replacing hot cooked fries with yesterdays pallid remains.
What is the good news here? Well, the toppings were adequate. Sort of. The grilled onions were really nothing more than something which had maybe been microwaved to remove the raw taste, then left to cool down to below room temperature. But there was lettuce. Two pickle slices. A tomato. Lots of condiments. Yup.
I would say run far away, but in Terminal 7, it's all a hustle, so it really comes down to this: who do you wish to be victimized by? Today, I chose Truly Horrendous Burger.
Shame on you, New York. Shame on you.