It’s 3 a.m. on Bourbon Street. You’ve had too many hurricanes. Your feet hurt. And you need something greasy right now.
Enter Clover Grill — the pink-tiled, 24-hour French Quarter institution that’s been fixing drunk people since 1939.
This isn’t some trendy gastropub. There’s no farm-to-table menu or craft cocktail list. Just 12 red counter stools, four tiny tables, and burgers cooked under an actual Cadillac hubcap.
Yes, a hubcap.
The cooks press a grease-splattered chrome hubcap over each burger patty while it sizzles on the flat top. Why? To keep the grease in and steam the bun soft. It’s weird. It works. And at 3 a.m., it’s exactly what you need.
The menu is pure sass. “If you are not served in 5 minutes, relax, it may be another 5. This is not New York City.” Another line reads, “Everyone brings happiness into this business, some when they come in, others when they leave.”
You can get breakfast anytime. The grits come with an obscene amount of melted butter. The eggs are cooked exactly how you ask. And if you’re smart, you’ll order the jalapeño cheese curds — people rave about them.
But the burger is the move. It’s thick, juicy, and comes with a slice of cheese almost as thick as the patty itself. Add grilled onions. Get it “dressed” with lettuce, tomato, pickles, and mayo. Grab a side of crispy tater tots.
The place is tiny. You’ll squeeze past people to get to your seat. The bathroom is through the kitchen. The jukebox plays Madonna and Cher on repeat. And the servers? They’re entertainers, offering fast service with a side of camp.
Clover Grill draws everyone — service industry workers ending their shifts, drag queens between shows, tourists stumbling off Bourbon Street, locals who know this is where you go when everywhere else has closed.
It’s open every single day, all day, all night. No matter what time you need saving.
900 Bourbon St. Open 24/7. Cards only, no cash.
