There’s a certain level of expectation created when naming a restaurant “5 Napkin Burger.” You’ve gotta be really confident in your burger ‘cause there’s no room for a wimpy patty here. Would you name a lingerie store “Cleavage,” and expect to find racks of 32As? Nope. Similarly, the expectation at 5 Napkin is for a buxom burger, a beef masterpiece so fat, so juicy, so over-the-top and wonderfully messy, that it will cause you to reach for not one, not two, but five heavy duty napkins to rein it in. It’s a gamble to put a burger under pressure like this, but it’s one that chef Andy D’Amico and front of house partner Robert Guarino (Nizza, Marseilles) decided was a worthy challenge for their latest restaurant, a neighborhood bar and grill in Hell’s Kitchen. I am happy to report that in my last visit, all five napkins were needed and used in devouring my burger.

But I’d had this 5 Napkin Burger before, at Nice Matin, where it was first introduced. But not unlike a Broadway starlet, since it’s become the star of the show at 5 Napkin, it’s had some work done. It’s still ten ounces, but for this version Andy played with the fat content of the meat (bringing it up) and switched to Angus beef. The result is a juicier, meatier burger that deserves the spotlight. It’s a heavyweight, and it’s more than just a patty, it’s thick and round, almost more like a burger-as-cupcake. And as you’d imagine, this big boy is not left naked. It’s dressed to the nines—topped with a relatively insane amount of gooey melting fondue-like Comte cheese and a shock of sweet caramelized onions. To me, it’s the bastard love child of a burger and a bowl of French onion soup, sans the soup—so you just get a sweet soft tangle of caramelized onions and the hot and bubbly oozing cheesy topping. It’s heaven in there, between the buns.

Speaking of buns, a burger of this stature cannot be contained by ordinary ones. Indeed, the soft white bun it’s served inside began to disintegrate under its weight. And so, while delicious, the burger at some point got out of control. It dripped all over my hands (Napkins! Napkins!), and was creating a warm cheese and onion fondue pond on my plate. But a brilliant idea hit me midway through the burger, as I watched the cheese and onions continue to slip out the sides. Instead of having the burger lose its toppings in vain, I stationed my fries under the burger and thus created a spontaneous serving of the world’s best cheese fries. This is the way to go.

You’ll find the namesake burger listed in a section that includes some other burgers too, including a decent veggie burger that’s made in house from zucchini, carrots, lentils and wheat berries and topped with housemade 5N sauce, b&b pickles on a whole wheat roll ($11.95), and a selection of other “real” burgers like the Rarebit-Bacon Burger—topped with white cheddar sauce and grilled bacon ($12.95), the Ahi Tuna Burger—with ginger, scallions and soy, wasabi mayo, and tempura fried onions, on a sesame egg roll ($14.95), and the Lamb Kofta Burger—with chopped tomato & onion salad and green tahini sauce ($13.95).

While the burger is the thing, Andy’s menu aims to offer something for everyone. His concept is sort of like a modern American diner, with an all-day menu that offers something for every mood and craving: omelettes stuffed with creamed spinach and goat cheese ($15.50), oversized salads like the one topped with chipotle pork, crispy tortillas, pepitas, chayote, tomatoes, and avocado in a coriander and lime vinaigrette ($17.95), and roasted Bell & Evans chicken with a summery tomato and feta panzanella salad ($18.50). To drink, a wine list offers 100 choices by the bottle with selections from Long Island and California as well as Bordeaux and South America, as well as some nifty cocktails from Mixologist Avi Turgeman (the beer sommelier from Café Alsace) like the 5 Napkin Sling: Tanqueray gin, Benedictine, Cherry Herring, Grenadine and citrus and a seasonal beer from Blue Moon called the Honeymoon that was perfect for a hot summer night.

The space evokes a cross between a spiffed up butcher shop and a bistro—with lots of cozy booths and banquettes, and walls lined in subway tiles, bare bulbs hung on butcher hooks, and vintage meat scales and soda bottles lining shelves. It feels a little like Schiller’s Liquor bar, and has a similar bustling energy.

Before the burger, we started out with a trio of fine lobster roll sliders in mini brioche buns ($19.95) served with chef’s excellent thin and salty golden fries, and a bowl of hand cut pork chili that’s a bit soupy and spiced up with chiles and copped with crispy tortillas, a dollop of crème fraiche, white cheddar and cilantro. It reminded me of a tortilla soup but with pork instead of chicken ($9.50).

Andy gets a bit misty-eyed for retro plates and we enjoyed several of them. The first was Crab Louis with Ritz Crackers and cucumbers ($12.95), a dish that dates to 1915. It’s a sort of lobster salad with large lumps of sweet lump crab standing in for lobster that gets dressed in homemade sauce that’s not far from Russian dressing. Spooned on a Ritz cracker, it’s cool and refreshing, and appealing on a hot summer night. Andy’s BLT salad didn’t really impress, though. A wedge of iceberg is topped with crisped dry bacon and tomatoes, and drizzled with French dressing. I don’t know, to me it was a rather uninspired combination as a salad, but maybe I am just more of a blue cheese girl when it comes to iceberg. Next time, I’m having the Szechuan chicken salad or the chipotle pork. But I was impressed with the Steak Diane ($22.50), a dish I haven’t had in years (if ever): a tidy and tender eight-ounce strip steak topped with sautéed mushrooms, set in a puddle of brandied mustard sauce—nice!—with a side of roasted potatoes. It’s the kind of dish I imagine the guys on Mad Men having at lunch, right before they roll out the cocktail cart and the girls.

For dessert, we had a towering slice of fairly dry 7-layer blackout cake and a warm homemade blueberry pie that tasted fresh from the windowsill with a buttery crust and scoop of vanilla ice cream. The menu also includes a selection of thick shakes and malteds, which may be necessary next time I stop in for my 5 Napkin Burger (and matching fries) fix. I mean I guess conceivably I could go to dinner and not have the 5 Napkin Burger, but would you go to a shop called Cleavage to shop for shoes?

5 Napkin Burger is located at 630 9th Avenue at 45th Street, 212-757-2277.

Andrea Strong