Amherst Diner Dares You to Binge on Beef
  
by Nina Lalli

If you like a dining experience with an element of danger, drive yourself up Route 58 to Amherst for a taste of the fast life at Sal & Al’s Diner. When you peruse the menu, you will notice, among regular diner favorites and phonetically-spelled baby-talk such as the repeated use of the word “samich,” the daunting and seductive challenge of the “Betcha Can’t Burger.” It will have you questioning your manhood in seconds flat, wondering if you can handle the bulging pound of beef that will be your match in the great ring of gastronomic daredevils. 

The few who can sustain such an incredible feat of overeating are glorified in a sort of Hall of Fame for carnivores, a cork-board featuring polaroid head-shots of the brawny, the nourished and the very full. Along with the picture, the name of the victor and the recorded time in which the person completed the “Betcha Can’t Burger” is boasted. The burger is also known as the “HUUUGE Burger,” which is logical, because the burger is too big for one U, and requires three in order to appropriately represent its hugeness. 
Obies should be proud to learn that one of our own has been added to the ranks of such men and women. Senior Ben Calhoun took the challenge one memorable afternoon last spring. When asked about that day, Calhoun said, “I was proud that I was able to finish it, but I puked.” He finished in 19 minutes, narrowly beating the burger clock. 
Calhoun’s picture appeared with shots of large men, for the most part covered with greasy stains, looking as if they probably will have to remain seated for several hours before returning to work. The burger in question is exactly one pound of meat topped with cheese, bacon, pickles, lettuce and tomato. The presentation is impressive, as the burger seems to have necessitated the invention of an amazing, enormous bun. The HUUGE Burger, in all its glory, takes up an entire plate. 
The deal is, if you eat the burger in under 20 minutes, you pay nothing for it, plus you become a pillar of the community. But if you fail to complete the monstrous “samich” in that time, it costs $8.99. Beware the additional threat of a $2 penalty for either sharing the burger with a friend behind the backs of Sal & Al employees, or asking, in shame, for a doggy-bag. At this point, it is unconfirmed whether these fees are actually enforced. 

On the middle page of the menu is a sentimental description of the Syrian immigrant grandfathers that inspired the opening of the diner. Also featured are an assortment of Syrian specialties. The menu offers such health-conscious choices as a combination appetizer of chili and cheese fries, and a BBQ pork sandwich, which comes with mashed potatoes, gravy and thick-cut fries. 
The menu narrowly avoids being relegated to the category of restaurants which resort to humiliating theme-driven names for particular items, but it does include unnecessary commentary such as: “BLT: hmm, what could that be?” and “lightly battered chicken fingers: AWESOME!” 
There are burger options for the weak and timid, such as a regular “Plain Jane” burger, or a simple double-decker bacon cheeseburger for dieters and prudes. The burgers have a curiously intense but pleasantly surprising buttery taste. It has not been determined whether the butter is concentrated in the bun or the actual meat, but there is quite a lot of butter involved. 
Lucky customers will be served by a chipper, care-taker type waitress appropriately named Jaime. She is pretty, smiles a lot and she loves you. Waitressing is her thing, and you will leave feeling like you have been mothered and doted on for the past hour or so. When you finish your soda, she knows. She brings a new one without asking, at the exact instant you place the glass of ice back on the table. If you have three Cokes, she may tease you, but in the most loving and nurturing way possible. 
When she called junior Emma Straub a “thirsty girl,” Emma blushed and announced, “I feel like the popular girl talked to me!” She also expressed a desire to employ Jaime as her own personal baby-sitter or big sister. Jaime was tipped very well, and everyone went home happy, cured of any iron deficiency.