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In the golden age of the New York burger, there’s simply no excuse for an inedible bun. But at this West Village tavern, the bread is brittle and crumbly. The grass-fed meat patties inside are tender and flavorful enough, but are often subsumed by their condiments. The signature Havoc is a sort of Slavic-Latin concoction featuring clashing toppings like chimichurri, house-made kraut and spicy cheese spread. Composed dishes depart from the typical burger-joint playbook, but those attempts—bland beet salad, mealy shrimp cocktail—don’t fare much better. Only the cold beer and flat-screen TV are reliable draws.
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