A fresh take on cooked-to-order burgers, Smashburger combines all the comforts of a well-stacked meal with the modest luxuries of expedient service and ample sit-down space. The menu boasts more smashes than two monster trucks playing tennis; Smashburgers (starting at $4.99 for a 1/4 lb.), grilled and crispy Smashchickens (starting at $5.99), Smashsalads ($4.99–6.99), and Smashsides such as the Smashfries fire up the hearts and bellies of all gracious guests. The Smashburger—100% Angus Beef plus quality veggies and cheeses on an artisan bun—takes center stage during most meals, while non-secret specialties, such as the Häagen-Dazs shake, keep mouths grounded, cool, and smiley.
At his namesake restaurant, Chef Ricci prepares his Italian cuisine from the highest-quality ingredients available using authentic cooking techniques. He packs each handcrafted lunch and dinner dish with flavor, from crabmeat-stuffed portobello mushrooms and homemade cavatelli to any of the chef's special entrees, such as veal florentine or the broccoli rabe tossed with shrimp or sausage by Leonardo da Vinci’s ghost. For hand-held eats, Ricci stacks a variety of hot and cold sandwiches, which pair such meats as genoa salami and prosciutto with the distinct flavors of imported sharp provolone and roasted red peppers.
The Great Wazu's seasoned sandwich crafters satiate deli cravings with an eclectic selection of made-to-order bread swaddlers and customizable salads for lunch and dinner. Experience a taste of Pennsylvania without illegally grazing on a stolen copy of the constitution with a philly-cheesesteak sandwich topped with sautéed onions and mushrooms ($7.47 at Parsippany) or tongue trek toward the hearty roast-beef-Insanity sandwich smothered in chipotle aioli ($7.47 at Parsippany). Cooks meticulously construct sloppy joes with diners' choice of Virginia ham ($7.30 at Parsippany, $6.05 at Hanover), roast beef and turkey ($7.30 at Parsippany, $6.75 at Hanover), or corned beef ($7.12 at Parsippany, $6.60 at Hanover). The signature Great Wazu sandwich swathes ham, cheese, cream cheese, and veggies for a combination more powerful than a bodybuilder in a Robocop suit ($6.37 at Parsippany, $5.80 at Hanover). The Great Wazu also serves a number of fresh salads ($2.99+ at Parsippany, $7.21 at Hanover) designed to quell chlorophyll cravings.
Since 1848, Applegate Farm has existed under many guises, but its purpose has always remained the same: to provide fresh dairy products for local families. Originally home to the Sitger family and their golden guernsey milk, the farm has changed hands several times since the late 1800s and survived through the Civil War, both World Wars, and all six Star Wars. It experimented with its first ice-cream cone in the late 1920s under the guidance of owner Julian Tinkham, who also had the good foresight to preserve the farm's historic structures so that future generations could visit the 19th-century farmhouse that once helped slaves to freedom or count the number of tiles in an authentic 1919 tile silo—one of only three built in the state.
Since then, the farm has expanded and operates under the current leadership of the Street family, who hold themselves to the same dedication to quality that has sustained the dairy for more than 164 years. The range of ice-cream flavors changes seasonally but usually includes at least 63 distinctive varieties ranging from orange pineapple and toasted almond to vanilla peanut butter and Graham Central Station—which won top prize at the New Jersey State Ice Cream Festival. No-sugar-added and dairy-free treats can also be found in scoopable form, along with ice-cream cakes, ice-cream pies, ice-cream sandwich breads, and other things that are best when sliced.
The dough wizards at Papa John's Pizza hand toss circular masterpieces with original and thin crusts made from high-protein flour to support warm bouquets of toppings. Hand-cut produce crowns all of Papa John's pizzas, mingling with the sun-soaked sweetness of sauce made from fresh, California-grown tomatoes. By adhering to its brand promise of "better ingredients, better pizza," Papa John's grew from a back-tavern pizzeria into more than 3,500 restaurants within three decades' time, or the amount of time it takes to grow a single pizzeria from a small seed.
You’ve got to love a restaurant that doesn’t try to be all things to all people, that takes a stand, picks just a few things, and cooks them really, really well. That, in a nutshell, is what Stony’s does for burgers and hot dogs—and boy is South Orange all the better for it.