I went to Rossi's Bar and Grill in Hamilton with an old friend who still talks about hamburgers the way some people talk about first loves and lost wars. Years ago I took him to the original Rossi's in Chambersburg after they won WIP radio host Glen Macnow's best burger contest. The place felt smoky and cramped and alive, a beating heart of the local community.
So he came back to town and said, Take me to Rossi's. I want that burger again.
The new Rossi's is bigger and brighter and very aware of its own legend. The website still shouts proudly about the award winning burger, the kind of pride that lingers long after the parade has packed up and the confetti has been swept into the gutter. The official burger of Polk High.
We ordered the famous burger. It arrived on a soft roll, thick and respectable, cooked properly enough. The beef had that loose packed texture that once made it special, a little craggy, a little juicy. It was, in a word, fine. It didn't part the heavens, and it didn't cause my friend to close his eyes and whisper my name in gratitude. It was just a hamburger.
The fries were plentiful and hot. There is still a sports bar soul here, sort of. Televisions glow and beer flows, albeit very VERY slowly. The menu stretches wide with wings, sandwiches, steaks, things for people who want something other than beef on a bun. It feels like a place that knows how to feed a crowd after a Little League game or a retirement home on an afternoon outing.
The service was friendly in the way a distracted and rarely seen cousin is friendly at Thanksgiving. Smiles, sure. Refills, eventually. Our server moved with the gentle chaos of someone juggling too many plates and not enough time or help. Nothing disastrous happened. Nothing especially polished happened either. We waited, ee watched and we ate.
When my friend took a bite,he nodded politely. He said, "It's good." This is not what he said all those years ago in Chambersburg when grease ran down his wrist and he declared it the best burger in the state with the certainty of Biff Tannen with a Sports Almanac in his back pocket.
Restaurants age and legends settle into routine. Rossi's feels like it is living comfortably on stories of past glory. There is nothing wrong with the food, but there is nothing thrilling about it either. If you are nearby and hungry, you'll be fed and you'll leave full. If you're chasing a memory, you may just find that memory tastes better than the present. read more