Fat Elvus Diner has one heck of a hunka-hunka tasty burger

If Elvis Presley and I have one thing in common — besides a crippling addiction to painkillers, of course — it would be our insatiable love of all food thick and greasy. Much like the late, lamented King of Rock and Roll, I tend to go out of my way to sample just about every greasy-spoon burger or chicken-fried dive around, doctor’s orders be damned.

The spirit of this lust is kept alive and well-fed in Yukon at Fat Elvus Diner, 4 E. Main St. (I’m guessing the “us” is so they don’t get sued. Lawyers are the devil in disguise!)

Looking like a rustic side-of-the-road shack one would find on the way to Memphis, the tight, homey diner is a tribute to all things rock ’n’ roll, with hundreds of records and artifacts lining every inch of wall-space. But this isn’t some kitschy Hard Rock wannabe — the denizens that run this joint mean it, from the sweet-as-honey waitresses to the Elvis (owner and impersonator Darin Thrasher) flipping the burgers.

The menu is an uncomplicated, simple affair, with one side offering breakfast deals like the Taking Care of Business Omelet and the “Viva Las Vegas” hamburger steak. As tempting as these Top 40 offerings were, it was three in the afternoon and I was itchin’ like a man on a fuzzy tree for what Fat Elvus is best known for: its titular Fat Elvus Burger ($5.09 plus extra for toppings), loaded with fixin’s, including jalapeños (in tribute to my main man El Vez, of course). A side of fresh-cut fries ($2) and a slice of banana cream pie ($3) completed my order.

When that Fat Elvus reached my table, “I [Could]n’t Help Falling in Love” with it immediately; this was a two-hander loaded with glistening beef, steaming fried onions and a few hearty slices of good ol’ American “Glory, Glory Hallelujah” cheese melting down the sides. The jalapeños left me sweating like I was under Vegas spotlights, while the hot and crispy fries made a perfect complement when dipped in mayo. When in Graceland … The King would’ve been a fan.

My dining companion, on the other hand, had the chicken-fried steak sandwich ($3.85). He made note of how well-seasoned and crunchy the Southern-fried coating on the steak was and the toastiness of the buns. But, sadly, he was unable to finish it — it was just too much for him. However, he later told me that the leftovers made for a great lunch.

As we sat back, enjoying Fat Elvus’ fresh, homemade banana cream pie, Thrasher, in full-on Elvis persona, stopped by to make sure we enjoyed our meals, taking time to pose for pictures with each and every diner who wanted one.

While I thought about taking him aside and asking if there’s a secret menu with a deep-fried peanut-butter-and-banana sandwich on it, the heaviness of the food started to get to me and I decided it was time for “A Little Less Conversation” and a lot more nappin’.

Don’t live in Yukon? “That’s All Right,” mama; this rockin’ diner is definitely worth a Saturday afternoon outing whether you’re starving for down-home eats or just wanting to do a little touristy rubberneckin’.

The Fat Elvus is the name of any onion-burger lover’s latest flame.

Print headline: Delicious minds, Yukon’s Fat Elvus Diner has got one heck of a hunka-hunka tasty burger.

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