No New York eating experience in recent memory has upset me as much as BLT Burger. It frightens me that such an abomination is possible in New York, with the initials of an accomplished chef all over it. (I'm surprised BLT is not embossed on the toilet paper, too, so proud is this man of his name and reputation.) I was hopeful, not fearful, the burger efforts of so accomplished a chef as Laurent Tourondel would produce either a great success or, at worst, an intriguing and even commendable failure. But this is neither. It's too pricey, too inauthentic and too pretentious in its calculation to qualify as a burger joint, yet the small burger, poor fries, hapless onion rings and desultory accessories fall far of anything resembling a serious burger experience. Moreover, the design and execution are entirely oblivious to the New York burger experience. Is it possible that Tourondel has never sampled a good or merely representative New York burger or golden, twice-fried, hand-cut frites? This shameful effort tarnishes two brands: "BLT" and "NYC" It is the damage to the latter that concerns me.