The website had me wondering just what exactly I was going to pay for. Scandalously clad, burger-eating broads with condiments dripping onto their um, breastbones. Based on this observation and the fact that the burger bar/lounge was opened by Tommy Up, a party promoter, I figured that Michael Jackson was his inspiration, and that PYT stood for Pretty Young Thing.

But this less-than-a-year-old spot at the Piazza in Northern Liberties, serving food ‘til 1am, and known for their burgers and adult shakes, isn’t hot chick themed past the website and restaurant wallpaper. PYT actually stands for “Pick Your Toppings.”

And I would pick them, choosing from various cheeses, avocado, fried onions, mushrooms, a fried egg, peppers, and more, but I figured that if PYT named a burger after themselves, it ought to be pretty darned good. No venue would stamp their name on a dish without mastering it.

And spectacular it was. The beef patty: not too thick. This, layered with cheddar, bacon, tomato, lettuce and “special sauce,” atop a potato roll could be shoved between one’s top and bottom jaws without much effort. And, in my opinion, that’s how a burger should be. I don’t want to slice my bovine mass in half lengthwise just so that I can get a bite with everything on it.

And who does? Besides those who order the Royale with Cheese ($10, two patties) or The Big Mic ($12, three patties). Their mouths must simply be bigger than mine.

I thought of the vegetarians, and so we tried the Portobello Sandwich ($8, which, fyi, is replacing the current Shroom Burger). Our new rendition was topped with goat cheese, roasted red peppers, balsamic vinaigrette, all served, like all of PYT’s sandwiches, with a pickle and chips. Delicious. If I had one complaint, it would be that there weren’t two mushrooms. Or, that the “kettle chips,” as outlined on the menu, were not actually kettle chips. I’m pretty sure I was chomping on Herr's. And let’s get one thing straight: I love my normal potato chips, but if I’m told I’m getting kettle chips only to find out that I’m not, I’m left with a frown. My guess is that this is their rational for getting customers to order the fries and/or onion rings, which, you absolutely should.

After recently stopping at White Dog for lunch and having the most amazing chili dog I’ve yet tried, (topped with chilli, cheddar, lime sour cream and scallions), I jumped at the PYT's PYT Dog, hoping that it would impress as the PYT Burger did. Served again with chips and a pickle, the hot dog won't be going on my list of favorite meals. The chili itself was face-contortingly salty, and I suspect the dish had been sitting out for a few minutes before arriving at our table. The cheddar was beginning to harden, and the Hebrew National dog was lukewarm.

Let me digress. If a meal is mediocre but served steaming hot, it earns five points in my book. And this is not to say a dish can’t be delicious when served after cooling down a bit. I get it, timing isn’t always perfect. But this is my thing: the food must be hot. Perhaps it’s my own fault for not sending it back to the kitchen.

I was dying of thirst. The adult Root Beer Float, with Stewart's, Root liquor and a scoop of vanilla ice cream was calling my name. I flagged down our adorable waitress only to be told that they were out of Root. Another frown. And so I ordered a Peanutbutterchocolatebanana.

The Peanutbutterchocolatebanana was rich - too rich. It tasted, despite the fresh banana and peanut butter, like flavored booze, and with peanut and Malibu banana rums, it makes sense. I would have loved, though, to add an extra scoop of ice cream to tone it down.

I was jealous of my roommate’s ?<3 ($10 pronounced QuestLove, so you don’t have to awkwardly point to the menu to order), which wasn’t so bold, and quenched with its vanilla ice cream/Baileys/Frangelico like the overly-rich chocolate/peanut butter/banana could not.

For future reference, one Ten Dollar Adultshake would be plenty to share - if you can decide on which one looks most wonderful. So thick, so beautifully topped with whipped cream, sprinkles (no blue ones, I hate the blue ones) and of course, a maraschino cherry.

Despite my roommates telling me, “You can make a PB&J with banana at home anytime,” I wanted the  (pardon my pun) Peanut Butter Jelly Time. Yeah, I can make a PB&J/banana sandwich at any given moment, but I was determined to prove to them that this would be no ordinary sandwich, surpassing the sum of its ingredients in style and taste. Unfortunately, it didn't. I did, though, get what I ordered, a PB&J with bananas. Toasted, yes, but that’s about it, and reaching room temperature like the other dishes.

Simply put, PYT is a burger bar. If served hot, their food can be great. With a hot crowd, the lounge tucked away behind the bathrooms could be a good time. And if hot outside, PYT’s outdoor tables would be perfect for people watching at the Piazza. I’ll be back in July, Pretty Young Things.

Emily Callaghan is managing editor of Table Matters and a graduate of Drexel University. Her work has appeared in Philadelpia Magazine, The Philadelphia Inquirer and TheSmartSet.com.

Article photograph from www.pytphilly.com, via Flickr (Creative Commons), "Eat Drink Philly" photograph from suvodeb, via Flickr (Creative Commons), "Philly" photograph from camardella, via Flickr (Creative Commons).