This tiny relic of pre-war America is buried if not lost
among the hideous New Jersey cinder block and vinyl shops
on River Road in Hackensack,NJ. Although a Macdonald's
looms just across the street, and there are barely a dozen
parking spaces, dozens of intrepid artery cloggers make the
lunchtime pilgrimage to order large quantities of the White
Manna burgers. The horseshoe counter accommodates 10-12
customers, offering neither leg nor elbow room.
The chef occupies a central, helmsman's position at the
point closest to the door, facilitating takeout and eat in
orders with no shouting necessary. As orders are placed,
the chef dips into a stainless steel container beside the
grill, pulling out a wad of ground meat that is
spatula-flattened to a patty significantly larger than a
White Castle burger, and infinitely tastier. Onion and
pickle chips are typically added to the mix, served on a
soft bun, scaled to the patty.
There is a quiet intensity to the diner's atmosphere. One
senses that the other diners, like yourself, are seeking a
respite from the Dilbert offices, malls, County bureaus and
the faceless, characterless labyrinth of north Jersey.
As a time warp, intimate haven from the present, White
Manna is unsurpassed. It would be misleading to say more
about the food, because it is merely an adjunct to the
total experience.
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