For the number of times I’ve responded to the dinner question with, “I want Fatty’s,” my boyfriend probably thinks I want him to gain a few pounds. This weekend, my brunch palate (a completely different organ) was pretty wowed by an outer borough experience. Fatty’s Café in Astoria has an inviting bar space and even friendlier bartender (imported from Australia and Ireland depending on the day). It’s a fantastically delicious lazy Sunday joint or even a random weeknight go-to spot. The burgers are huge and consistently delectable. If they don’t send you home with a doggie bag, you’ll at least leave with a nagging impulse to smother your next three meals with Fatty’s chipotle mayo. Not even your Apple Jacks are safe.

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