Herfy’s was once a fast-food hamburger chain, with locations on the west coast, and in Texas. It was never ubiquitous like McDonald’s, but Herfy’s had similar burgers and fries, and a Wacky Burger Box™ for the kids, and a talking cow for its TV commercials.
What I liked about Herfy’s was the condiment stand in the lobby, at every location. Stocked with pickle slices, chopped onions, mustard and ketchup, salsa and ‘secret sauce’, and more, it was almost a buffet of side slop. You could buy the cheapest burger, then fancy it up at the condiment stand, and as a teenage cheapskate it felt like a bargain. I usually bought the basic burger and then added salsa, onions, and peanut butter (I carried a jar in my backpack) spread over the meat patty.
Sadly, Herfy’s went out of business during my many years away from Seattle. Every location closed, and there’s no trace of it any more.
But their logo was familiar and borderline beloved, and no lawyers are protecting Herfy’s intellectual property, so a mom & pop burger place had new signs made up, and called themselves Herfy’s. People ate it up, so now half a dozen different places call themselves Herfy’s.
They’re not using the old Herfy’s menu or recipes, there’s no condiment stand, and each location has separate ownership. Most don’t even have a website, and it’s a different website for the two that do.
Still, the magic must be in the name. For unexplained psychological reasons, even knowing it wouldn’t be at all the same, I wanted to eat at Herfy’s, dang it. There was a fake Herfy’s half a mile from home, so I went there for lunch.
It was the opposite of a real Herfy’s, just a tiny hole in a worn-out strip mall. The manager’s boombox was on the counter playing rap music too loud, and the cheapest burger was $14.
Real Herfy’s had shakes in only chocolate, vanilla, and strawberry, but at this place a huge readerboard listed every flavor of milk shake that’s ever been shaken. I ordered a fancy burger and a raisin & butter pecan & boysenberry milk shake. The shake was marvelous, and the burger was pretty good, even with no condiment bar. I added a layer of peanut butter from my backpack, because some things never change.
I left happy, certain I’d be back, but a week later that fake Herfy’s closed. Now it’s a Supercuts.
There are still a few fake Herfy’s around Seattle, though, and I had the hankering again a while back. With “my” fake Herfy’s closed, I went to the one in Georgetown, and it was completely different, and kinda scary.
In King County, restaurants are required to prominently post their latest health inspection results. It’s like a report card, and the ratings are: Excellent, Good, OK, or Needs to Improve. If a restaurant is rated “Needs to improve,” it’s closed down, so “OK” is the lowest passing grade, and the sign in the window at Georgetown Herfy’s said “OK.”
I wasn’t worried. I’ve eaten at other “OK” restaurants and survived. But walking in, this place had an unpleasant underscent of old grease or possibly death.
It was about 11:15 AM, before any lunch rush, but the dining area looked like the aftermath of a frat party, with paper cups and wrappers on most of the tables, presumably from the night before.
Like a bad diner in an old movie, the cook had a cigarette dangling from his lips (but unlit, or I would’ve smelled it).
Several storage cabinets over the front counter were inexplicably open, showing cups and ketchup and other supplies, but also showing stains or rot in the cabinets themselves.
The men’s room was blocked off with a folding sign that said, “Restrooms broken.” The sign was sitting in a puddle.
At this point I might’ve left, but I was with a friend for lunch. Peer pressure is a real thing, and he wanted the Herfy’s experience, so we stood in line to place our orders.
A friendly lady, the owner or owner’s wife I’d guess, was working the counter, and she was sweet and funny, the high point of our visit.
At the other fake Herfy’s, the menu had been full of burgers, but in Georgetown the offerings are heavy on shrimp and fish’n’chips and cheesesteak. Me and my pal had burgers and fries and shakes anyway, for old time’s sake.
It was nearly half an hour before they called our numbers, and the burger they gave me was someone else’s — an oniony cheeseburger instead of a bacony hamburger. A burger is a burger, though, and it was edible and ordinary, and they got my pal’s order right.
The place was gross but the meal was average. Both our bellies made weird noises that afternoon, but neither of us puked, and yet, neither of us are interested in going back.
(fake) Herfy’s
5963 Corson Ave S, Seattle WA (Georgetown)
Food & drink: OK
Price: a little high
Service: OK
Transit: #60, #124
Verdict: NO.
11/5/2024
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