Manhattan, arguably the world's capital of haute cuisine, has become awash with neo-contemporary fusion restaurants that tend to ignore the staples of fine dining. That is why it is so nice to see a pair of New York restaurateurs focus their culinary efforts squarely on a single culture. Although devotees of this lifestyle can be found in such far-flung places as Hampton Beach, N.H., Pensacola, Fla., or Lake Havasu, Ariz., their way of life had not been readily available to Manhattanites until now.
The Trailer Park Lounge and Grill has been attracting an ever-growing clientele since its May 2002 opening. This is despite the fact that not a single patron of this Chelsea eatery has ever watched NASCAR or owned a Ted Nugent record. Yes, this temple of White Trash transcends all socioeconomic borders. Co-owners Tom McKay and Andy Spiro have spent years collecting the tchotchkes that plaster every inch of their restaurant. Their quest for kitsch is clearly a labor of love. These aren't the mass-produced knickknacks one finds cheaply adorning the walls of TGI Friday's. Trailer Park is a veritable museum of dubious pop culture that could double for the set of a John Waters film. An actual Airstream trailer has been relocated from its cinderblock beginnings to the restaurant's interior. A 1950s style bowling ball return has been converted into a cocktail table in the lounge area. Glass cases hold smaller valuables, such as biographies of Tammy Faye Baker, Tonya Harding, and Amy Fischer.
The food at Trailer Park sticks to classic American drive-in fare. This includes burgers, BLTs, hot dogs, chili, mac and cheese and the other usual suspects. There are no New York hipster twists on the good old standards. You won't find Gruyere on your mac and cheese or chipotle relish on your chicken sandwich. Leave your fancy gourmet airs at the door, city slicker. This is not Nyla. Everything I had the opportunity to sample was a substantial cut above the usual local bar fare in terms of the quality (and quantity) of ingredients. The BLT appears to have about half a pound of bacon on it and is served on thick toast. The Beef Nachos are excessively drenched with chili and require a spoon to navigate. The Mac and Cheese is quite good and has the obligatory browned crust on top. All sandwiches and entrees are served with sweet potato fries, which are some of the best fries I've sampled in the city. The only desserts available are homemade moon-pies, sometimes known colloquially as whoopee-pies in other backwoods and bayous across the country.
The fully stocked Tiki Bar specializes in frozen margaritas and some of the tackiest drinks found this side of Walt Disney World's Polynesian Resort. Specialty concoctions include Lover's Concerto and Jim Bob's IQ, which promises to "to erase any previous sign of intelligence you might have had." The beer selection includes the usual domestic standards. You won't find any Sierra Nevada or Magic Hat here, as there are no microbrews allowed in this transplanted trailer town. And no White Trash bar would be complete without a bathtub filled with cans of Pabst Blue Ribbon. I was just disappointed that Schlitz was nowhere to be found.
I feared that the restaurant's attitude would be more Eurotrash than trailer trash, given its trendy locale. I'm happy to say that this wasn't true at all. The service is very friendly and casual. Most importantly, the great atmosphere doesn't come at the expense of price. All the sandwiches and entrees are between six and seven dollars. The kitchen stays open until 1:30 a.m., making it a perfect late-night dining and drinking spot if you're heading downtown or back up. So what're you waiting for, you book-learned college boy? Check out Trailer Park for some good eats and a hilariously fun time. Bring your friends. Bring your girlfriend. For that matter, bring your cousin. I won't tell.
Trailer Park is located at 271 W. 23rd St. between 7th and 8th Avenues. (212) 463-8000