Once again at Cherry Point for Friday Burgers

Cherry Point has a way of making the week feel finished.

Once again at Cherry Point for Friday Burgers—no big announcement, no special occasion. Just the familiar marble tabletop, the white plates, and the quiet certainty that the simplest rituals are the ones that stick.

The burgers arrived the way you want them to: sesame buns, cut in half like someone expects you to share, cheese slumped into all the right corners. Across the table, a grilled fish plate looked almost restrained—dark sear marks, a pale dollop of sauce, and a small heap of pickled vegetables that tasted bright enough to wake up the whole meal.

There’s something comforting about returning to the same place and finding it unchanged, like the room has been waiting for you. The week had its noise, its screens, its little weather systems of stress. But here, the only thing to do is eat while the heat leaves the food and the conversation warms up.

Friday burgers aren’t a tradition because they’re fancy. They’re a tradition because they’re reliable. And sometimes that’s all you need: good bread, something grilled, and the sense that you’ve arrived exactly where you’re supposed to be.