When going on the hunt for an unhealthy sandwich, you often come to a fork in the road. To the left is a gigantic burger, to the right is something breaded and deep fried. If you were to sit down at this fork and order delivery from both directions, you'd get the Heart Attack On A Plate from Mother's in Baltimore. (This whole intro is adapted from a poem called "The Sandwich Less Traveled" by Robert Frost).
The Heart Attack is a hamburger patty, stuffed with cheese, and breaded and deep fried.
The first step in the eating of this burger is to spear it.
Eva: It's like an onion ring, except beef. It's a beef ring!
Ian: A sandwich like this is a weird business strategy. When you kill people, they rarely become repeat customers.
Mike: The cheese center really mimics the Earth's molten core.
Peter: What if we're all on a giant burger, waiting for a larger being to come eat us?
Here the burger is actually eating Eva.
Eva: This is probably really hard to prepare. Both because of the layers within layers and because you're so paralyzed by guilt.
Ian: If I ever get eaten by a predator, I hope it's as happy about my cheese center as I am about this.
There is reason to believe this burger is also radioactive.
Peter: The fried shell adds a lot more sound than it does taste. It's like there's a foley artist adding crunch sound effects.
Ian: Well, just as a bank robber knows a well-guarded vault holds something valuable, the secure perimeter of the fried shell indicates whatever's in there is really good.
They're not chewing. They're actually making kissy-faces at the burger.
They're not chewing. They're actually making kissy-faces at the burger. NPR
[The verdict: this is the rare sandwich that is as good as the sum of its many disgusting parts. The breading adds a texture — and a coating of lipids — that makes this a truly special burger. If you're in Baltimore, we highly recommend you go try one. Then walk back to whatever city you came from to help work off the calories.]