It was a cold, rainy night in the Meatpacking, but no matter. Outside, the streets were as full as you’d find them on a warm summer night in June. Flocks of ankle boots carefully navigated cobblestones, and skinny-jeaned packs roamed dark streets in search of scene. Inside, it was found. But this was not your typical Meatpacking pile up. Sure the place was mobbed, three deep at the dark bar, but faces were illuminated by the light of Monday Night Football, not some glamorous amber-lit lantern imported from India. After all, this was a burger joint, and one designed very much in the understated style of its former resident, the Hog Pit. Other than the lack of a pool table in the back and an absence of saucy ribs, not much seemed to have changed with the opening of Steven Hanson’s latest restaurant—Bill’s Bar & Burger. Behind the bar, cold sudsy pints were flowing, and the grills, slick with grease and sizzling with all-beef patties, were firing on full blast. In the back dining room, tables were covered in red and white checked plastic gingham. There were tall tubes of Heinz, Golden’s and French’s. Salt and pepper shakers, too. Paper napkins. Not much else.

Chef Paul Sale, a handsome Englishman who has worked with Steven Hanson for about a decade now, was expediting—in his bifocals. We’re all getting old, aren’t we, I thought as I shimmied through the maze in the front bar, sliding through the mass and mumbling excuse-me’s. I remember working with Paul in the late 90s, when neither one of us needed glasses. Well, time does fly. Here I was, back in the Hog Pit where Craig and I spent a fun afternoon drinking beers, snacking on wings, and shooting pool early on in our relationship, before we were married, before we were parents of a deliciously exhausting six month old. In some ways, it was a walk down memory lane.

But in others it had nothing to do with the past and everything to do with the future. I was at Bill’s with nine students who had taken my Introduction to Food Writing Class at mediabistro. We were celebrating the end of class and toasting to their future successes, and what better way to do it than with a meal together. We tucked into the long table and were catching up about dates, whisky festivals, and various other unmentionable topics when the menus arrived. And that’s when the shock set in. It was a brief document, with just a half dozen burgers, a few sides and an appropriate number of burger-friendly shakes. But still, it was shocking. I gasped. Five dollars and fifty cents for a hamburger? Did I read correctly? Yes, I had. Indeed, Steve Hanson, someone who clearly could be charging $9.95 for his burgers (and serving them in a much more “designed” setting) is not. His most expensive burger creation, the Fat Cat, will set you back $6.95. What’s most impressive to me about this place (other than the food, which for the price, is an incomparable deal) is that he took over the Hog Pit and instead of turning it into some over the top burger restaurant with a dozen choices, and an equal number of dizzying variations on the fry, he’s kept things simple and cheap. Bravo.

Now, before we get to the burger situation, a word about the chicken wings. These are one of the more pricy items on the menu, coming in at $7.25, but go ahead, splurge! You’re worth it! You are in the Meatpacking, after all, and if you were eating across the street at Five Ninth or Spice Market that wouldn’t even score you a cocktail. At Bill’s you get an entire plate of possibly the best wings in the city. Now these wings are boneless, and so there’s a surprising amount of plump meat here where otherwise there would be bone. What’s more, they’re deep-fried and crisped on the outside, then dunked into a bath of atomic hot sauce that yields a pleasure-is-pain kinda feeling. It’s a taste that’s likely to cause you to quickly reach for your pint of beer, and just as quickly, reach for another wing. Wrestle for one if necessary. They’re a hot fiery mess of the best kind.

Now, about those burgers. These pups are not made in the image of the fat and juicy burgers served at places like The Spotted Pig, The General Greene, or Five Napkin Burger. They’re more of Shake Shack parentage: thin patties, fresh and hot off the griddle, all coming in around medium on the temperature scale, flattened to a crisp for a burger that’s got some texture and still a good deal of taste. There’s little reason to stray from Bill’s Classic ($5.50), a simple patty slid inside a warm, toasted sesame seed bun with lettuce, tomato, and pickles on the side. It’s perfect—cooked so that the meaty juices help sauce the burger. I added a squeeze of ketchup and one of Golden’s mustard, too. If you want cheese, they’ll add a layer of American for ya’ ($5.95), or even pump it up with Jack cheese and New Mexican green chiles ($6.50).  You can also build-your-own burger by topping the Classic with the likes of mushrooms, chili, pickled tomatoes, caramelized onions, or bacon for just 50 cents each more.

I’d go that route rather than order The Fat Cat, the biggest burger on the menu ($6.95). Not that it’s bad, it’s just too much. There are two patties, topped with a mound of caramelized onions and what turns into a Velveeta-like squish of American cheese melted on top. It’s all sandwiched between two halves of an English muffin that’s way too meager for the weight of all that meat, cheese, and onions. The burger becomes one big cheese and onion avalanche, and through it all you really can’t taste the beef.  And you want to taste the beef here. It’s from the meat maestro, Pat LaFrieda, and it’s deliciously fatty and flavorful. But you’d never know it in the Fat Cat.

But that’s my only quibble with the menu and the concept here. I loved the “adult” shakes—there’s one with Stout that’s terrific for winter, and another made with peanut butter, banana, and Frangelico that’s just ridiculous good fun. Underage buddies (or pregnant friends) can easily enjoy any of the regular shakes (choose chocolate, vanilla or strawberry), served in tall sundae glasses with bubble tea straws for easy slurping.

I also thoroughly enjoyed my (two) orders of fries ($3.50)—nicely salted, hand-cut, skin-on potatoes. These really are remarkable. My first order was an appetizer, and my second a side dish. Yes, these fries are the ultimate multi- tasker. You can disco up your fries with cheese and gravy ($4.50), but this just tends to make them soggy. Instead, go for an order of onion rings, really the size of bicep bracelets, battered in beer until golden and crunchy on the outside, sweet and slippery on the inside ($3.50).

I was taken with the place from beginning to end. There’s nothing fancy about it. It’s pretty much the same sort of lovable dive as the Hog Pit was, just cleaned up a bit around the edges, but there was no need to roll out a David Rockwell for a joint like this. Laudably, Hanson exercised some restraint and kept things on the rough and tumble side. He kept the menu tight, the prices low, and delivered an excellent product.

What he did spend time on was service, which is friendly, efficient and happy: the kids working there really seem to actually enjoy working. I’d almost expected to see them wearing roller skates and singing show tunes, they’re just so peppy and cute. And that makes a difference to the experience. Most of all, though, I am impressed with the price point. Show me another full service restaurant where you can get a great burger for $5.50? You’ll spend more at the diner. And your burger wouldn’t be as good. And neither would your wings.

Bill’s Bar and Burger is located at 22 Ninth Avenue, 212-414-3003.

Andrea Strong