Robin Garr's LOUISVILLE Restaurant Reviews

80	Ollie's Trolley 978 S. Third St. (502) 583-5214

A little piece of fast-food history remains as a sort of culinary fossil on an urban street corner in Old Louisville.

Remember Ollie's Trolley, the hamburger chain in which then-Gov.-to-be John Y. Brown Jr., who had made his first pile with Kentucky Fried Chicken, was a lead investor back in the '70s? The chain's shtick featured walk-in buildings shaped like bright red-and-yellow street cars; a secret blend of 23 herbs and spices (nearly double the Colonel's 11!); and a legendary owner, a finicky geezer named Ollie, who purportedly insisted that his burgers be served rare, using his special secret sauce, and never a drop of such pollutants as mustard or ketchup.

The chain gained altitude fast, with outlets across the country including nearly a dozen in the Louisville metro area; but it didn't last long, apparently the victim of relatively high pricing and perhaps a more gourmet style (particularly that bloody-rare thing) than most consumers really wanted in a fast-food burger.

But when the chain went down, a few locally owned Trolleys survived, including this bright mini-building at the corner of Third and Kentucky streets, just a few blocks south of downtown.

Local rumor has it that the Louisville Trolley is the only survivor of the once-widespread chain. That's not quite true. In fact, here and there around the nation - in Cincinnati, in Washington, D.C., and in the capital's suburbs - you'll find a few old Trollies still in operation with independent owners. Some have added individual touches - the District of Columbia Trolley, I am reliably informed, has both the trademarked Ollieburger and carry-out Lebanese cuisine on its bill of fare.

But Louisville's Trolley sticks pretty close to the original. They apparently aren't as strict as old Ollie about cooking the burger through or doctoring it with your own choice of condiments. But the latter-day Ollie remains an exceptional burger, juicy and oversize, well worth the investment of $2.10 (for a plain Ollie Burger) up to $2.73 for an Ollie loaded with cheese, lettuce, tomato, dill pickles and sliced onions.

The menu offers a few alternatives to the Ollie, including a bacon burger ($2.50), chile burger ($2.24), not to mention a chicken sandwich ($2.04, with the trademark Ollie Sauce), fried fish ($2.29, Ollie Sauce optional), Polish sausage ($1.75) or a hot dog ($1.45, or $1.85 with chile). The estimable Ollie's Fries, tossed with black pepper and spices, are $1.20.

We went with the real thing, of course, and were delighted. The Ollie Burger with everything ($2.73) featured a thick, beefy and naturally flavorful patty (actually cooked well past the medium-rare point that would have been perfect) on a serviceable burger bun. It was dressed with a thick slice of fresh tomato, crisp lettuce, sliced raw white onion, topped with a slice of melted mozzarella cheese, and slathered with the "secret" Ollie Sauce, a spicy blend of dried herbs and mayo that resembled a high-octane variation on Thousand Island salad dressing. It made a filling and memorable lunch, with an order of Ollie's excellent fries - thin and golden, crisp and delectably spicy - to fill in the gaps.

Like the old Trolleys, this one is take-out only, with just enough room at the order window for a short line of hungry diners. (If you just can't wait until you get home, and weather permits, there are a couple of metal tables in a corner of the tiny parking lot that circles the northwest side of the Trolley.) Burgers for two and fries for one came to a rock-bottom $6.72. $

(August 2002)