Why has there never been a fast food restaurant based on grilled cheese? When one sees grilled cheese offered on a menu, it almost always arrives as part of a kid’s menu or packed in with the sides, a glaringly obvious placement for picky eaters and bland tastes. Grilled cheese, like Rodney Dangerfield, can’t get respect.

But does grilled cheese really deserve respect? As Oberlin proves every day of the week, grilled cheese can indeed be an oily mess of texture-less, tasteless bread and plasticky cheese. I went to the Melt Bar, located at 14718 Detroit Ave. in Lakewood, hoping to be persuaded into re-attaining my grilled cheese innocence.

The menu of the Melt Bar is a carefully constructed yet audacious foray into the possibilities of the grilled cheese sandwich. Layered on top of thick-sliced and insanely crusty Italian bread are such variations as the home-cookin’ revival-esque Porky Cheese (honey ham, crisp bacon, Swiss), the ethnic fusion sandwich of Smokey Russian (smoked turkey, Napa vodka kraut, smoked gouda), or the insanity of the North Coast Shores (crab cakes, garlic spinach, roasted red pepper and cream cheese).

I opted for the Cleveland-inspired “Parmageddon,” a sandwich filled with potato and cheese pierogies, Napa vodka kraut, grilled onions and sharp cheddar. Upon the first bite my mouth was in heaven!

The crust of the Italian bread shattered in buttery flakes while the melted cheese merged with the pierogie cheese to create an unbelievably smooth, thick, creamy bite. Heavy? Hell yeah. The sandwich is intense, starchy, mind-numbingly cheesy and totally slimy. What impressed me the most about this sandwich was the wild textures it contained.

My friends ordered the Hot Italian (grilled salami, honey ham, pepperoni, sun-dried tomato pesto, roasted garlic, provolone) and the Westside Monte Cristo, a deep-fried grilled cheese with honey ham, smoked turkey, Swiss and American. The Hot Italian was a savory mix of deep flavors, expanding the cheese and bread bases with healthy heaps of meat and a tomato pesto that was a sour-sweet revelation. The Monte Cristo was unreal. The bread was deep fried and suddenly squishy soft, akin to a beignet-style donut, so that even the American cheese tasted rich; the whole thing was a sweet dessert-like, decadent treat.

Plates are served with old school French fries, which are cut thick and retain a dense true potato texture, and some seriously sub-par slaw, lacking almost any creaminess (I mean, a grilled cheese restaurant should not slack on creamy items, should it?). Perhaps they were thinking people might want a break from the cheese, but everyone at my table avoided the slaw nearly completely.

Some other standouts about the place are an outstanding and reasonably priced beer list, and menus placed on the back of old records.

Despite all its charms, the atmosphere, although representing the semi-psychotic fascination with grilled cheese, feels mostly like a slightly done-up neighborhood bar. There is a faux-stained glass with inset cutlery, soccer playing on the television and lots of brick; the whole place is comfortable, if not intensely hip or interesting. In short, the restaurant is a perfectly laid-back place to hang out, even if you don’t walk to talk to anyone!

As for other menu items, salads and soups looked great. I will definitely order the Goldfish-laden Chili and Fried Twinkie dessert upon a second visit, when perhaps I will forgo the Parmageddon, as a gesture of kindness to my stomach.

The Rating — For a Primer, this is out of 5 MMMs — 3.5 MMMs.