The other night I was really craving a good hamburger. Like, totally juicy, stuffed with pungent blue cheese and topped with caramelized onions, sautéed mushrooms, lettuce, tomato, spicy mustard, and ketchup. Not your standard picayune burger. (Side Note: I’ve been reading a lot of David Foster Wallace recently, and he uses the word picayune three times in one essay. Really, David?)
Since I’d been trying to meet up with a friend of mine for a while for dinner, and since I only had about half of what I needed to achieve my burger dreams and since those burger dreams demanded achievement, I suggested dinner at my place – halfsies on ingredients. Of course the beers were a bonus, and the cheese might have been a little pricey, but I think we did well for way less than we would have paid eating out. Right, Bryan, right? Those burgers were delicious. The kind of thick, heavily laden burgers that need to be squashed flat before being eaten. Bam. Burger magic.