Greasy Spoon: High Life Lounge

The fried egg sandwich and bacon wrapped tater tots at High Life Lounge in Des Moines. (Credit: Eric Rowley/Metromix)

I'd been in the shag-carpeted rec-room-reminiscent establishment that is the High Life Lounge before, but only for the beer and Tangermeisters. At about noon on a Thursday, the lunch crowd was bustling and comprised mostly of sweatshirt-wearing workers. I grabbed a stool at the bar and was delighted by the reasonable prices and delicious-sounding menu.

What you're in for: This is the place to sneak an ice cold beer over the lunch hour and indulge in ridiculously comfortable food, the kind of stuff that - if you grew up in a household where a brick of Velveeta could always be found in the fridge - will take you back to a time when calories weren't counted.

What I ate: Broasted chicken sounded spectacular, but I wasn't out for something advertised as having 40 percent less fat than the fried version. My order - a fried egg sandwich and bacon-wrapped tater tots ($8.90 before tax) - landed somewhere between the chicken and the Spam sandwich on the greasy scale. The eggs came fried like your mom would make them - the whites scraggly (none of that patty nonsense) and the yolks cooked through. They were sandwiched between pieces of lightly toasted white bread, and the salt and oil begged to be licked of my fingers.

The tots, those legendary tots, came smothered in cheddar cheese and skewered with festive toothpicks. I made the mistake of popping one of the suckers into my mouth as soon as it hit the counter and burned the roof of my mouth. A minor injury. After a soothing gulp of ice water, I indulged in a few more. The tots reminded me of a midwestern version of the Spanish tapa I love - dates wrapped in bacon. They were the essence of greasy spoon food: Crunchy, soft, salty, chewy nuggets of sin.

Antacid rating (out of 5) Three. I'll confess, I saved some of the tots for a co-worker, and saved myself from more serious grease-related feelings of grossness.