In South Anchorage, Wee B's is unapologetically old school

The intersection of O'Malley Road and the Old Seward Highway has been experiencing a renaissance in the last few years. Chic new boutiques, cafes and restaurants have sprung up, lending a sense of glamour to a previously uninspiring corner.

You might think this would give Wee B's, a decidedly old-school burger joint, a complex. It's a comparatively humble presence in the spruced-up neighborhood. But a couple of recent visits have laid that fear to rest. Wee B's is a feisty little spot that isn't going to change for anyone.

Nor should it. Their mission, as stated on their vintage Coca-Cola sign (not vintage as in "kitschy," but vintage as in "been there since forever") is simple: Burgers and fries. I appreciate fact-based, focused signage. It inspires confidence.

The interior is a bit of a time warp. I'm just not exactly sure what time. It's one part Archie and Jughead and one part mid-'80s (vinyl booths upholstered in teal, lavish silk plants and a Ms. Pac-Man machine). A friend of mine, who loves Wee B's burgers, remarked that if you're looking for "atmosphere," you should order takeout. But I disagree. Like it or not, Wee B's has atmosphere for days.

Their menu is straightforward. Burgers, chicken nuggets, wings and tacos — all pretty standard fast-food fare. But there are a few surprises: a rotating selection of homemade desserts, for example. And, adorably, deviled eggs for $1.25 each. Wrapped in cellophane on a paper plate, complete with a sprinkling of paprika, their presence, inexplicably, delighted me.

[Related: Tommy's Burger Stop earns its bona fides in Spenard]

I stopped in for takeout for a mid-week picnic with a friend. I ordered a quarter-pound buffalo bacon cheeseburger ($10.45), a quarter-pound jalapeño cheeseburger ($7.05) and an order of onion rings ($4.25) to share. Service was pleasant, if perfunctory. The food, cooked to order, took time (10-15 minutes).

It was worth the wait. Wee B's burgers are the perfect example of a culinary "whole" being worth more than the sum of its parts. The patties are thin, which I like, as it maximizes the surface area for maximum char. However, I found them to be underseasoned and I barely noticed a difference between the buffalo meat and the beef (though the price difference is significant). That said, the burgers as a whole were so well constructed that the patty is redeemed.

The lettuce was crisp, the tomato was fresh, the "special sauce" (mayo and ketchup based) was well balanced and the bacon was dealt with a generous hand. It all added up to a very flavorful and satisfying mouthful. And the buns, made in-house, were perfect — pliant enough for maximum squishability but firm enough to hold the sandwich together without getting soggy. These are good, messy, craveable burgers.

The onion rings were perfect. And greasy. And perfectly greasy. I dearly love the occasional indulgence that's still glistening from the deep fryer. The well-seasoned batter hides sweet, translucent, silky onions. No ketchup or salt required. But be warned. These are rich. (And I realize that's not everyone's tantalizingly grease-spotted bag). We ate a few each and then tossed the rest to avoid temptation (singing taps as we did so).

I returned the next week with my family for an early dinner. My daughter opted for an elk burger with bacon ($10.45) and my husband and I chose a half-pound bacon cheeseburger (two patties instead of one, $8.95) and a "super" rotisserie chicken sandwich ($4.95) and, for kicks, a deviled egg.

I'll start with the chicken sandwich by dismissing it out of hand. Adequate at best. Industrial at worst. I'm not convinced by the menu's descriptor of "rotisserie." This looked and tasted like a frozen breast. There was no evidence of slow-roasting or fresh carving. "Super," by the way, means lettuce, tomato, pickle and sauce, but none of the fixings were enough to make this sandwich super.

My daughter loved her elk burger, though again, to me, it didn't taste appreciably different from the beef burger. There may be other reasons to opt for buffalo or elk patties, but actual flavor, cooked well-done as these are, isn't one of them.

On the side, we shared an order of chili cheese fries ($4.95) and one order of plain fries ($2.95). These are hand-cut fries with the peels intact and the occasional deliciously misshapen potato nub that crisps up just a bit more than the others. And they are best — crisp on the outside, tender on the inside — when they are piping hot. Once cool, they become chewy and tough. Take this not as a criticism, but rather, as a recommendation to eat them fresh and on-site if possible.

The chili cheese fries have a longer shelf life. Smothered under a blanket of neon "cheese" and a tasty, bean-rich chili, the fries remained hot and tender. So tender, in fact, that they quickly became a fork dish. We were still dipping, messily, into these long after we had declared ourselves to be full.

My daughters washed their meals down with milkshakes ($4.25) (They also dipped their fries in them, inciting a weeklong family controversy because … ewww? But also, yum?) It has clearly been too long since I've had a good old-fashioned milkshake (Frappuccinos and smoothies don't count). One sip of my daughter's vanilla shake and I was transported. I felt 10 years old. The year was 1980. Even Ms. Pac-Man was there!

And time travel for less than $5? That's a bargain.

Wee B's

Hours: 10:30 a.m.-9:30 p.m. Monday-Saturday, 11 a.m.-8 p.m. Sunday

Location: 1260 O'Malley Road

Contact: 907-522-1260

**1/2

$$