Shit Burger? The following is an interesting intrigue about burgers.
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"A few years ago, I decided that it would be interesting to make a cheeseburger from scratch. Not just regular “from scratch,” but really from scratch. Like, I’d make the buns, I’d make the mustard, I’d grow the tomatoes, I’d grow the lettuce, I’d grow the onion, I’d grind the beef, make the cheese, etc.
It didn’t happen that summer, by the following summer, my wife and I had built a new house, started raising chickens, and established a pretty good-sized garden. I realized that my prior plan hadn’t been ambitious enough—that wasn’t really from scratch. In fact, to make the buns, I’d need to grind my own wheat, collect my own eggs, and make my own butter. And I’d really need to raise the cow myself (or sheep, and make lamb burgers), mine or extract from seawater my own salt, grow my own mustard plant, etc. This past summer, revisiting the idea, I realized yet again that I was insufficiently ambitious. I’d really need to plant and harvest the wheat, raise a cow to produce the milk for the butter, raise another cow to slaughter for its rennet to make the cheese, and personally slaughter and process the cow or sheep. At this point I was thinking that this might all add up to an interesting book, and started to consider seriously the undertaking.
Further reflection revealed that it’s quite impractical—nearly impossible—to make a cheeseburger from scratch. Tomatoes are in season in the late summer. Lettuce is in season in spring and fall. Large mammals are slaughtered in early winter. The process of making such a burger would take nearly a year, and would inherently involve omitting some core cheeseburger ingredients. It would be wildly expensive—requiring a trio of cows—and demand many acres of land. There’s just no sense in it.
A cheeseburger cannot exist outside of a highly developed, post-agrarian society. It requires a complex interaction between a handful of vendors—in all likelihood, a couple of dozen—and the ability to ship ingredients vast distances while keeping them fresh. The cheeseburger couldn’t have existed until nearly a century ago as, indeed, it did not."
Taken from this blog.
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I've said, on a handful of occasions, that I would be fine giving up beef and all other meats, 'cept for pork. In such a venture, burgers would be the only thing I truly missed. And I know there are other types of burgers besides beef, but I'm talkin' a good beef patty. In recent years, I've been intrigued by the "boutique-ing" of burgers. I feel I've been to a handful of cafes, restaurants that take the burger so seriously that they ruin the burger. The patty is too thick; the bun too creative; the toppings too absurd; the lettuce too overwhelmingly ridiculous; the presentation too inventive. These are the types of places where almost everyone leaves saying "oh yea, mmmhm, oh yea," and the few who don't go post highly self-righteous reviews online. (Perhaps they do both?) I'm not entirely sure I've ever left such a place without feeling deeply apathetic.
In contrary to the article above, the burger is quite simple, and (like many things in the modern world) depreciates as you try to 'church' it up. McDonalds holds a probable monopoly on our generation's perception of the burger, contrasted with the homemade-backyard-dad variety (why do all dads create meatballs when they mean to create burger patties?). Five Guys has an oddly respectable model that only falls short in its apparent lack of sustaining local ingredients. Diners typically do burgers better than cafes, and cafes better than restaurants. Sports venues are hit or miss. And sometimes the fine dining gets them right, mainly based on the quality of meat (I've heard Lugar's is great, never had it). It's brunch that's truly guilty of this boutique escapade.
Who do we talk to, to cease this charade of piling, masquerading as improvements on such an absurdist idea of a sandwich? It reminds me of a line from one of the greatest comedy films of all time, in which Cleveland Indians Manager Lou Brown says, "...we ought to hang around for a while and see if we can give 'em all a nice big shit burger to eat!"
7 comments:
I personally have become so disenchanted with burgers that I usually never order them. As J eluded, they’re always churched up with some unholy toppings assisted by sweet potato fries or homemade chips. Who the hell wants to eat this garbage? I think I would rather have Wild Thing’s “shit burger” in the 9th inning at Cleveland Stadium. I feel like every time I fall for the “chipotle burger” or find myself drawn in by the “burger with a fried egg on top”, I am severely let down……leaving the restaurant like a kid that was just told there is no Santa (which there isn’t, because John Walsh would never let that fat guy wearing red satin pants go anywhere near all of those kids).
I actually found myself in a burger predicament last night. My wife and I joined her parents at Cheeky Mexican Taqueria. It’s one of those strangely popular trendy Americanized Mexican joints. There are a couple of locations here in north Georgia. I hate this place. Brightly colored décor, dumb teenager server chicks with whacky t-shirts (“don’t fear the taco”), atrocious food that Poncho Villa would slit your throat for claiming as creations from his homeland, and the list goes on. But, on Wednesdays, it’s free pint night. So whatever is the beer of the month, you get a pint for $4 and you get to keep the glass. I have always been a fan of free bar-ware, but a Yuengling served in a Yuengling pint glass with puppies on the front wearing Santa hats? First, why does this “taqueria’s” beer special come from the oldest brewery in America, and second, what the hell am I supposed to do with this glass?
Back to the food. I am a firm believer that when you go to a steakhouse, you order the biggest steak that you can eat. When you go to a seafood joint, you order the fishiest special that you can stomach. So when you’re at a Mexican Taqueria, you better be stuffing your face with greasy, cheese laden interpretations of peasant food from our neighbors to the south. But remember, I hate this place. For some reason the “Juicy Lucy” jumped out at me on this clear crisp night. Maybe it was two baskets of stale chips that I had already eaten, or the two flat room-temerature Yueglings that I forced down before we even ordered our food, but I was getting ready to order a burger at a Mexican place.
This was no ordinary burger though. “Two beef patties stuffed with jalapeno bacon and Mexican queso, topped with pico and avocado puree” sold me like Napoleon pitching his Louisiana Purchase deal to Monroe (that’s right your history buffs, Monroe actually signed the thing while President Jefferson hung out in Monticello with African broads, sipping Beaujolais)….. “Sold Monsieur Bonaparte”. It didn’t take long to come out and I dove right in. The molten lava cheese and bacon mixture went everywhere. My hands, my faces, my wife’s coat, it went everywhere. I scarfed that thing down quicker than Lindsay Lohan on her third bump before a court appearance.
As I reflected on how good it really was and how fast I demolished the burger, it got me thinking “was that really a burger”? What is a burger? Is there really a right way or wrong way to do it? Maybe as long as it tastes good and contains some sort of meat substance (no hippies, mashed black beans or any other vegetables can never be considered a “burger”) in patty form, it is a burger.
What is a burger?
Wow...the perspective is quite welcome and refreshing, and as you alluded, the plot has only been thickened.
Also, Pro Tip: always order a la carte at said Mexican joints (is it really called Cheeky?)
I recently had a simultaneous craving for both buffalo wings and a michelada. Thinking it absurd to have both at the same time, I decided on the latter and ended up at such a Mexican joint. Oddly, the place did have both, so I ordered them. I never made it to the wings.
This instance tipped the glaring iceberg that, you go to these types of places for two things, chips & salsa and drinks. No need to try to figure out what to order. Eat chips dipped in salsa, drink margaritas, possibly order a taco. These types of places have ruined too many days and nights in painful, gorged reflection.
Though, I'm impressed (a) you went with a burger and (b) it was good.
Trust me, I know damn well what I’m doing when ordering at any restaurant. I am a self proclaimed foodie (I like to eat everything, therefore take it upon myself to have expert opinions on all things food and drink). I always order a la carte at Mexican places. I guess one of the points I was making is that Cheeky (http://eatatcheeky.com/) food is so bad and un-Mexican, that I didn’t really mind ordering a burger.
Micheladas are meals in themselves and require no accompaniment. Except for maybe more micheladas with periodic gold tequila shots (served at room temp).
The one other thing about Cheeky (besides the Juicy Lucy) that doesn’t make me want to smuggle in cyanide pills is that they have bar top tables with individual taps. As in one tap per table that measures how much you pour and charges you per ounce at the end of your dismal meal. It is over priced so not even that cool.
I hope I'm not too late in the game for someone to comment back.
I agree with you about "churchin' it up" to the point of disgustation. I find exotic cheeses do a fine job of ruining a perfectly good burger.
My latest burger of choice comes from a restaurant close to work, Dorrian's. This place is nothing special, pretty much a Ruby Tuesday's without the sentiment (full disclosure: I worked at Ruby's for six years on and off, and btw they don't make great burgers). Anywho, what I like about this Dorrian's burger is that it is pretty basic, nothing special, but they are doing a few things extra right which are in line with my ideals. First, they use a potato roll. Second, that burger is JUICY (perhaps like a Lucy?). Third, I order it with ketchup AND mustand. Lastly, the cheese is American, just like me. Put those things together, and there's nothing not to like.
And let's not forget they've been mincing beef since the 15th century, according to Wiki, so I don't know where this guy is coming with, "The cheeseburger couldn’t have existed until nearly a century ago as, indeed, it did not."
That guy is trying a little too hard.
"That guy is trying a little too hard." << Haha
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