Wolffy’S A Quaint Place To Wolf Down A Burger

Wolffy’s offers relief for burger lovers who are sick of sitting in the drive-thru lane.

This nifty full-service spot in the Valley - now being run again by the original owners - looks a lot like the set of “Happy Days.”

Come back next summer, and the place will resemble “American Graffiti” with carhops waiting on your wheels wearing their wheels.

Skates, that is.

Inside, the black-and-white tile floors offer a striking backdrop to the lipstick-red booths and stools at the counter. I only wished I could drop in a quarter and punch in one of those oldies by Little Anthony and The Imperials or The Shirelles on the miniature jukeboxes that rest on each table, but they were all out of order.

While this venue seems like a natural for old-time rock and roll, the sound system was silent.

But let’s get down to the business of burgers and fries.

Wolffy’s does a fine job on both counts. The tasty hand-formed were grilled juicy. The pickle slices were tart. The bun was toasted. The ketchup bottle was on the table. Onions are grilled on request.

The only beef I had with my burger was that they used romaine lettuce. It’s probably the only instance when iceberg is superior to the leafy green stuff. A chunk of cold, crisp iceberg (not shredded) gives a sandwich a nice crunch.

If you want your burger dolled up, you can order it smothered in chili, topped with bacon or adorned with sauteed mushrooms and Swiss cheese. Double the meat for $1 more.

Wolffy’s burgers come with a huge helping of shoestring potatoes, fried golden. Crispy and hot, these fries are addicting.

Onion rings are almost as good. They’re coated in a crunchy batter and have a taste so onion-y, they could make you cry. Our order could have been a bit warmer, though.

And the side of tartar they were served with was pronounced too Miracle Whip-like by one mayo-loving member of our gang. Ditto with the tuna salad sandwich she ordered.

The menu said the tuna sand was mixed with mayonnaise, but it had that tell-tale sweetness of old M.W. And the fish was studded with sweet relish. That could be a turn-off if you were expecting dill.

Now, the BLT was the genuine article. On toast, with bacon that was flavorful without being too fatty.

One of the spendier items on the menu - an “Out of This World Steak Sandwich” ($6.95) - also got a big, messy thumbs-up from our panel of hungry teenage boys. Slices of steak were loaded onto a French roll.

With a nod to ‘90s tastes, Wolffy’s even offers a veggie burger. It’s your garden-variety Garden Burger, but it was cooked just right. And for 50 cents extra, you can add some sauteed ‘shrooms.

I knew I was taking a risk ordering the spaghetti. Even though the menu says it’s made from an old family recipe, it seemed out of place among this fast-food fare.

But it wasn’t bad. In fact, it reminded me a lot of the spaghetti my Irish grandmother used to make when she attempted to cook Italian. Heavy on the ground beef and chili powder and cook the noodles a hair past al dente. A big hair.

For $3.25, the spaghetti was the cheapest meal on the menu. It came with a garlic bun that had not even the faintest flavor of that pungent bulb.

Now, as long as we’re blowing our diets with all these burgers and fries, we might as well indulge in one of Wolffy’s awesome shakes. There are 15 flavors including such obscure entries as marshmallow and peanut butter. The chocolate was rich and creamy and really chocolaty, without tasting like Hershey’s syrup.

Split one shake between two people for 25 cents above the $2.75 pricetag and you’ll both end up with a tall frosty glass topped with whipped cream.

You can also order up such fountain favorites as a hot fudge sundae, a banana split, floats or flavored colas.

Wolffy’s fosters family values by giving Mom and Dad a break on their kid’s meals. For just $2.50, children can choose from grilled cheese, chicken “dinosaurs,” corn dogs or a mighty fine foot-long. They all come with a heap of fries.

The only thing that was a total bust on my visits to Wolffy’s was a side salad that was served with a packet of funky-tasting dressing. The poor lettuce was wilted with some bits darn right brown.

But, hey, what did I expect? This is a burger joint.