Burbank may only have a few high-end dining places — Commonwealth and Morton's come to mind — but in terms of street-side takeout places, Burbank is killing it.
(Any hardworking city dweller will understand the insight, from "Peacebone," a song on "Strawberry Jam," that "the other side of takeout is mildew on rice").
Those were the days when a side-street takeout order was more likely to be a corned beef sandwich and an egg cream than a Kathleen's cookie with a double mocha skim latte (no foam).
The mandatory jukebox and arcade game are on the takeout side.
Rounding out the takeout side of Liberty Towers Gourmet are a smoothie bar and a small bakery area with cookies and baguettes.
The bare white sides of the takeout carton must have seemed like tiny billboards for a company with something to sell.
The main avenues and some side streets feature restaurants (mostly takeout) selling it.
Her father, who raised his family on the South Side of Chicago, ran a takeout-chicken stand, bringing in far less income than most of the parents of the kids in Orman's mostly Jewish, upper-middle-class crowd.
While late diners eat blintzes and potato pirogen, dozens of swaying men in homburgs, fedoras, baseball caps or yarmulkes crowd a 20-foot-long corridor and side room normally used for preparing takeout foods.
Let us go then, Hominidae, with the drive-in spread out against the sky, side of piquant bronto ribs from the takeout.
BARBARA KLEINBERG Irving Shillman was chatting with the manager of his favorite East Side kosher delicatessen as he awaited his takeout order.
