The day you serve eviction papers to your bed partner, the day after you drank too much and told your boss exactly what you really think, the day you lose the house of your dreams by a thousand dollars--there are plenty of times when the Convention Grill fits the bill. Flop into a booth and place your order for a fluffy burger the size of a Philip Roth hardcover, a real malt as thick as new resolve, and house-cut, grease-floppy, sweet and salty fries that come in a portion the size of a garden shrub. Eat until every hole in your heart, belly, and soul is filled in with big molecules of fat and happy. Food writers dwell too much on calories, but there are times a mainline binge is the only possible response to the chasms and terrors of daily life. And on those days, the Convention Grill is the only possible destination.