I've driven past Sickies Garage on South Louise more times than I can count — that corrugated metal exterior catches your eye whether you're headed to Target or just looping through the west side — and I finally understand why the parking lot stays packed on random Tuesdays.
The garage theme isn't subtle. License plates cover the walls, vintage gas pumps stand in corners, and the whole place hums with that deliberate rowdiness that makes you want a beer before you've even sat down. I think they committed to the bit fully, which I respect — no half measures with a name like Sickies.
The burger menu runs deep. I'm talking thirty-plus options, from a straightforward classic to things involving peanut butter, jalapeño jam, and bacon that's been candied to within an inch of its life. I went with the Trailer Park — a beef patty topped with mac and cheese, bacon, and crispy tater tots — because when you're already in this deep, why not. It arrived messy, exactly as promised, and I needed both hands plus a stack of napkins. The beef itself is solid, cooked how I asked, though the abundance of toppings means you're really committing to a full production with every bite.
The beer list leans local and craft-forward, which fits the crowd — a mix of families with kids coloring on paper menus and groups of guys who look like they just clocked out from somewhere off Minnesota Avenue. Service moves fast even when it's busy, though I'll say the noise level approaches "can barely hear the person across from you" during peak hours. That's the trade-off with this kind of high-energy spot.
It's not quiet, it's not refined, and that's entirely the point. Sometimes you want a burger that requires structural engineering to eat, and Sickies delivers on South Louise without pretending to be anything else.
— Grace
I think they committed to the bit fully, which I respect — no half measures with a name like Sickies.