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Address and Contact Information
Address: 30 E Center St, Fallon, NV 89406
Phone: (775) 294-6001
Website: http://theslippery.us/
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The Slippery | Fallon NV – Facebook
The Slippery, Fallon. 1024 likes · 1171 were here. The Slippery located at 30 E. Center St. Fallon, NV 89406.
The Slippery Menu Fallon – Postmates
30 East Center Street, Fallon, NV 89406 $$ • American • Burgers • Sandwiches x $0 delivery fee Other fees x Enter address to see delivery time.
The Slippery – Fallon’s Beloved Local Bar Grill with Great Food and …
Discover The Slippery in Fallon, NV: a nostalgic bar and grill where friendly locals gather for delicious burgers, crispy appetizers, fun billiards, …
Reviews
Andy Ploucha
I see Steve O in a pic. Recognize him from when he bartended at Boomers. I lived in fallon from 2010 to 2014. Guy with red hair man bun behind him as well. Diaz his last name. Cant remember his 1st name. Damn bored reminiscing about Fallon. Loved the weather. Thought Fallon was windy, until I moved to Wyoming.
… moreKimberly Cahoon
Super disappointed there was so much sauce on my burger the bottom bun was so soggy we couldn’t eat the bun. The lumpia had no sauce with it and it was way over cooked, the filling was falling out and burnt The meat tasted like it was rotten. Super bummed that I spent $30 on a patty and couple onion rings.
… moreMark Brush
I’m retired Navy and did at least 20 Fallon detachments in the 1990s and 2000s. I remember the Birdfarm, Midnight Roper, Frog Daddys, and other Fallon favorites. They are all gone now, but Slipperys is a great reminder of the Fallon of old. Great service, karaoke, dollar bills on the walls, messages written in sharpee everywhere. Yeah, it’s beat up, just the way some of us like it.
Bonus, the mozzarella sticks and onion rings were great too! Well, I was four drinks in, so to be fair most anything would have tasted good.
… moreBonus, the mozzarella sticks and onion rings were great too! Well, I was four drinks in, so to be fair most anything would have tasted good.
Cienna Dennis
drive nine hours home and ALL i could think about is a burger from the slip tony did his thing on the grill while maggie was serving the worlds best drinks as always. always nice to come visit home and still have that nice small town feel
… moreDeb Jensen
This is one of those places you always seek out but very rarely find: a spot where regulars are treated like old friends & newcomers are welcomed as members of a growing family. I travel a lot and find some of the best food in local ‘hole in the wall’ restaurants. Staff was great and food was even better!
… moreTrash Panda
Typical dive bar. Food used to be good. But the wait is long and to quality blah. Could I at least not get the ends of the tomatoes??? Also service lacks ! Do better !
… moreKen Beghtel
The best little bar in town. Fun local crowd, billiards and darts. Drinks are good and the grill is quick, easy on the wallet and the burgers are perfect. Try the #5.
… moreChuck Farnham
Had a Greenwave Burger, substituted chicken for beef it was wonderful, ordered nachos and we were charged for them but they weren’t in the delivered bag….
… moreJohn Saab
The staff on hand this night was amazing. Food and drink service was fantastic. You couldn’t ask for a better local experience. Highly recommended.
… moreShai Solus
In the shadowy recesses of this so-called “restaurant,” The Slippery, one might find a charade masquerading as an eatery. A pilgrimage I undertook, not out of choice but necessity, beckoned me to taste the glories of the American burger. What I encountered was nothing short of an assault on the senses—a maddening farce where culinary ambition lay gasping its last, choked out by dregs of mediocrity.
The burgers, once lauded as the pride of any self-respecting joint, arrived at my table as mouthfuls of remorse. Blandness had taken a seat at the head of the table; a flavorless slab of meat so thoroughly unseasoned that it might as well have been a cardboard cutout. Had I not been ensnared in this surreal nightmare, I would have swore they were trying to pull a cruel prank on the “hungry” patrons.
Then came the bacon, that heavenly slab of pork that is supposed to be the crowning jewel on any decent burger. Instead of a savory crunch, I was met with what can only be described as charred remnants from a barbecue gone horribly wrong. Burnt to the point of no return, a thick black strip resembling something you’d fish out from a campfire cooked by amateur pyromaniacs. How can one screw up bacon? A question worth pondering long into the night.
And dear God, the fries. Oh, those wretched, soggy offerings, limp and lifeless, swam in a pool of their own dissatisfaction. Each bite was reminiscent of masticating wet newspaper—void of all taste, insipid in texture. They languished under the oppressive weight of mediocrity, their once crisp potential drowned in whatever culinary horror awaited them. Surely, they would only earn a passing nod of acceptance if washed down with enough liquor to forget this gastronomic blunder, or perhaps by the blind eye of inebriation.
This was not dining; it was a senseless descent into a world where flavor goes to die. The Slippery is a beacon of disappointment, a reminder that sometimes the journey is worth more than the destination, especially if that destination is this culinary wasteland. Save your dollars, folks, for there are better ways to spend your evening than wallowing in the depths of culinary despair. If you should stumble in there expecting redemption, I recommend a swift retreat and a bottle—nay, a case—of whiskey to cleanse your palate of this abomination.
… moreThe burgers, once lauded as the pride of any self-respecting joint, arrived at my table as mouthfuls of remorse. Blandness had taken a seat at the head of the table; a flavorless slab of meat so thoroughly unseasoned that it might as well have been a cardboard cutout. Had I not been ensnared in this surreal nightmare, I would have swore they were trying to pull a cruel prank on the “hungry” patrons.
Then came the bacon, that heavenly slab of pork that is supposed to be the crowning jewel on any decent burger. Instead of a savory crunch, I was met with what can only be described as charred remnants from a barbecue gone horribly wrong. Burnt to the point of no return, a thick black strip resembling something you’d fish out from a campfire cooked by amateur pyromaniacs. How can one screw up bacon? A question worth pondering long into the night.
And dear God, the fries. Oh, those wretched, soggy offerings, limp and lifeless, swam in a pool of their own dissatisfaction. Each bite was reminiscent of masticating wet newspaper—void of all taste, insipid in texture. They languished under the oppressive weight of mediocrity, their once crisp potential drowned in whatever culinary horror awaited them. Surely, they would only earn a passing nod of acceptance if washed down with enough liquor to forget this gastronomic blunder, or perhaps by the blind eye of inebriation.
This was not dining; it was a senseless descent into a world where flavor goes to die. The Slippery is a beacon of disappointment, a reminder that sometimes the journey is worth more than the destination, especially if that destination is this culinary wasteland. Save your dollars, folks, for there are better ways to spend your evening than wallowing in the depths of culinary despair. If you should stumble in there expecting redemption, I recommend a swift retreat and a bottle—nay, a case—of whiskey to cleanse your palate of this abomination.