When you're nursing a hangover, it helps to have somewhere dark to hide. Someplace with big, cushiony red booths and crushed velvet walls. The sort of long, welcoming room that you can walk into at 4 p.m. or 4 a.m. and get the same big, buttery, greasy hangover food. Hollywood has such a place. It's called 25 Degrees.
Not only is 25 Degrees a round-the-clock shop for burgers, sweet potato fries and milkshakes, they're also located right along Hollywood Boulevard. In fact, they're in the bottom floor of the Roosevelt Hotel, which rivals only the Chateau Marmont in lurid stories of previous debauchery and current tales of celebrity excess. There's a good chance you might have been drinking at the Roosevelt yourself, which is how you ended up inside the yawning velvet runway that is 25 Degrees. But for us 'normies' (in industry speak, that's the rest of us regular folk), there's also a door for 25 Degrees right there on the street. See? Anyone can walk in, shield themselves from the sun in the seriously dark dining room, and chow down on the namesake 25 Degrees Fried Egg Sandwich ($12).
Sure, anything over ten bucks is a high price to pay for fried eggs, but this is Tinseltown we're talking about. And when you've got a summer blockbuster hangover looming just over your mental Hollywood sign, it's no big thing to hand over a Hamilton. Especially for a sandwich of this caliber. Not one but two fried eggs are griddled up and served over easy, with just enough of the runny stuff to keep you from setting the sandwich down again. Not that you'd want to, with a pair of thick slices of salty Canadian bacon on board. The edges are slightly charred and the whole thing gives off a happy, greasy, porky vibe. Under that is a raft of white cheddar, the sharpish kind that gives you a clean, slightly tangy mouth and offers a ton of meltiness. If you couldn't already tell, there's a lot of dripping and oozing going on here. Maybe that's why the lights are turned so low—nobody wants to see your egg-stained Rag & Bone jeans from the night before.
There are veggie essentials on 25 Degrees' egg sandwich, of course. You'll find a thick bracket of lettuce providing some needed crunch and a tomato for a touch of acid, but with a smear or two of herbed aoili the sandwich is basically complete. Well, except for the golden-domed brioche bun that holds the whole thing together. It's massive, sure, but that's because it's got to soak up your bottle-service hangover, and it's still as soft and fluffy as any true brioche worth its yeast. Pillowy might be a correct term, but that could lead to drowsy diners face planting into their sandwich for a quick nap.