My friend Porterhouse was, is, and always will be a south-side girl. Her Rainier Valley residence isn’t so much a home as it is a sprawling urban ranch, where one could envision just-off-work mechanics feeding sips of Schlitz to a friendly alpaca. Moreover, it was Porterhouse who, while wolfing down a cheeseburger at By’s Drive-In, finally cracked the code revealing why modern-day South Seattle doesn’t have as many drive-ins as the city’s north side.
When Porterhouse was a young girl, back in the day of irony-free mustaches, long sideburns, and short, plaid ties, Dick’s Drive-In was top dog in the North End and Herfy’s reigned supreme in the South. But while Dick’s is still going strong, Herfy’s went tits-up in the ’90s (there are still a couple of Herfy’s around town, but they are related to the original in name only), leaving the South End with but a couple of drive-ins: By’s in SoDo and Stan’s on the northern tip of Rainier Avenue. Thank you, Porterhouse, for clearing that up.
Like the Herfy’s in Uwajimaya Village (bastard spawn, remember), By’s serves a killer peanut-butter shake—peanut-butter shakes being one of those concoctions that look sickening on a reader board but are, in reality, one of Mother Earth’s great elixirs. And like Dick’s, By’s is, in its very essence, a paean to an older, lesser Seattle where Rainier was the only beer and fried fish passed for haute cuisine. Nowadays, coveralls abound on By’s predominantly working-class clientele, who had no qualms about sharing small indoor tables with total strangers—a refreshing antidote to this CrackBerry-obsessed age of social noninteraction. While the drive-in’s burgers and fish ‘n’ chips are super solid, it is By’s fries that really stand out. Think Dick’s, only thicker.
Unlike By’s, Stan’s fries are more evocative of Mickey D’s ramrod-straight-and-salty variety—only, again, a little thicker. I’ve found that people love to slag McDonald’s fries out of simple spite for the arched conglomerate, conveniently forgetting that they’re really fucking tasty. For the conflicted who know, deep down, that they love Mickey D’s fries, Stan’s poses a golden opportunity to enjoy the same sort of fry sans guilt. Stan’s also serves up a mean fishwich, just like Ronald.
But lest you think Stan’s merely presents an independent alternative to Death Star dining, their double bacon cheeseburger will set you straight. Situated on a fluffy sesame bun with double everything, it rivals the best of its lot in town. With that in mind, looking out onto Rainier Avenue on a sunny day at one of the drive-in’s four minuscule outdoor tables, I could damn near taste and see the south side of Porterhouse’s carefree youth, back when drive-ins weren’t such a mystery.
