It’s almost like getting a bagel in New York — waiting in line is part of the ritual, building anticipation. The scent of sizzling patties and the sight of burgers constantly flying out of the kitchen send your brain into pre-meal overdrive.
We actually came here twice. The first time, we gave up — the wait was just too long. The second time, we got lucky and snagged a table after about 20 minutes. While waiting at the bar, I had time to take in the half-open kitchen and quirky décor. At least twenty thick patties were cooking at once, filling the air with that irresistible, savory aroma.
The melon-themed interior is full of character — think melon art, melon clocks, melon paintings. It feels like you’ve stepped into the eccentric collection room of a mischievous melon-obsessed boy. It’s weirdly charming and totally genuine.
Then there’s the burger — the undisputed star of the show. It’s minimalist: just meat, cheese, and bread. Pickles and onions are served on the side. No lettuce, no tomato, no fancy sauces — just pure, unadulterated confidence in the quality of their beef. And they’re right to be confident. The patty is perfectly cooked — juicy, with just the right balance of fat and meat, slightly crispy on the outside, and tender inside. The fries? Also excellent.
Despite how busy it was, the service stood out. No one rushed us to leave after we finished. In many popular spots, you can feel the pressure to free up your table — but not here.
When we stepped outside, a cheerful crowd was still waiting. Everyone was smiling for some reason. Eating at JG Melon feels like a little festival, and I’d definitely come back — just for the vibe.
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