Do you need to feed 30 drunk Kentuckians in a hurry? Ever wonder how Waffle House does it? Does your cook have a Blunt stashed behind his ear? As connoisseur of drunk cooking I made a pilgrimage to Waffle House and amidst the lost teeth, bodily fluids, and syringes I spied a Griddle the size of a piano. This Mother is even bigger. For that down home feel nothing beats an unmotivated 22 year old frying an egg on a griddle while smoking a cigarette. Something magical happens on this machine. It turns already amazing bacon into a true religious experience. Maybe it's the cigarette ash? Maybe it's the wide eyed optimism of the cook losing all ambition? Nothing placates a Drunk hillbilly better than griddle fried bacon. Personally I celebrate my Canadian heritage by drowning the bacon in maple syrup. Then again I also drink maple syrup straight from the bottle. It's a problem, really. You know what's not a problem? The price of $1000. This machine doesn't just do Southern Hibachi. It can fry up anything. Even un-American vegetables. So make sure your closing hours are well past the points the bar close and come pick it up. Or give us a call and we will send out our syrup fueled delivery driver.
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