Wednesday, March 31, 2010

The Dirty Burger

It's time to let you all in on a dirty little secret. A truth about who I am that I have tried my hardest to hide from those closest to me.

I am part Canadian.

(What did you think I was going to drop a Ricky Martin level bombshell?)

Yes, my last name is French so you may not be all that surprised. But over the years I have done my best to distance myself from our neighbors to the north by bleeding Red, White and Blue and spewing anti-Canadian venom at whoever would listen.

This is the country that gave us Nickleback, Bryan Adams and Celine Dion. Shoved hockey down our throats. Harbored draft dodgers. Corrupted our youth. I was truly ashamed to be the descendant of such a nation.

But that shame has started to slowly recede like the hairlines of many of my good friends. As I've matured (pronounced ma-too-erd) I have found myself looking upon those floppy headed bastards as nothing more than minor annoyances. Yes Nickleback is the worst band of all time, but I don't have to listen to them. Sure hockey is about as entertaining as watching ice freeze, but it's not like I'm forced to watch it Clockwork Orange style on the reg. And yes they harbored draft dodgers, but it's a country the size of America with 1/10th the population, so they were probably just happier than a pig in shit to have new friends.

Canada is kinda like a younger brother. Super annoying, eh? Always trying to be like you (Canadian Football). Extremely uncool (again I can't stress enough how awful Nickleback is). And even though you want to beat the bejesus out of him you know you can't because you know he is defenseless (seriously how does this make you feel safe Canada?).

But as you get older, you start to appreciate the little guy. He's there when you need him (drinking age of 18). He can be kinda funny (Michael J. Fox, Jim Carey, Mike Meyers). He likes the same things you like (getting drunk as fuck; Toronto Blue Jays; Toronto Raptors). He even surprises you sometimes with a flash of brilliance (check out Canada's greatest creation, Trailer Park Boys, an incredible TV show that was really the catalyst in my coming around on these puckheads). And finally you realize that he is blood. You may not always like him, but he is a part of who you are.

So today is the day I announce to the world: I'M HERE! I'M CANADIAN! GET USED TO IT!!!

And in honor of my Canadian tipping point, Trailer Park Boys, we bring to you the Dirty Burger, based on Canada's signature dish, Poutine (Puntang) style fries (french fries and gravy to the Americans out there).


  • Beef burger with Montreal seasoning: Canadian culture consists of getting drunk, farting, and bad music. So it's no surprise that it is really difficult to find much spice in the great white north. That is why we look to the unwilling and exotic Canadians, the French Canadians, to spice up our lives. They speak a different language. They are interested in secession. They have museums and a crazy night life. They also have one hell of a steak seasoning.
  • French fries: I really wanted to make homemade fries for this one. Unfortunately, I was channeling my inner Jim Lehey and the liquor was in charge Saturday night! Homemade fries are apparently an 8 hour process. Ore Ida fries take 17 minutes. Someday when Sexy Burger goes incorporated homemade fries will become a reality, but for now Ore Ida will just have to do.
  • Canadian cheddar and bacon: Nothing fancy here. True to Canadian form (lack of originality), these are basically just Vermont cheddar and ham. Delicious, but America discovered them first, nam sayin?.
And finally...wait for it...WAIT FOR IT...WAIT FOR IT...
  • GRAVY CUBES!!!!!!!!!: A special shout out to my cousin, and roommate and fellow Canadian descendant, for the discovery of gravy cubes. Gravy cubes have opened a whole new universe for Sexy Burger. Let me explain: Gravy cubes are frozen cubes of gravy, which allows us to put frozen liquid in the middle of burger patties so that after the burgers cook and you take a giant bite you get a nice, tasty, vicious and viscous surprise. This opens the door to all kinds of burger possibilities. Ranch cubes. Marsala cubes. Ketchup cubes. Hot sauce cubes. My brain and taste buds are bursting. And, since my blood is about 25% gravy anyway, it is fitting that this ingredient graces this burger of my ancestors.
This was the hardest post I have had to write. It's taken me 3 full days to put pen to paper (or whatever it is writers do now that we have computers). I have received a lot of annoyed glances from the lovely Spot. But deep down she knows this was not easy for me, and she was my rock as I made this leap. I made a big step forward today in coming to grips with who I am. Maybe I should have admitted this years ago, but as Ricky Martin can attest, coming out takes time.

So I leave you all with two pieces of advice: Be honest about who you are and watch Trailer Park Boys. Take my advice on this and your lives will change forever.

See you next Burger eh? KnowwhaImsayinnnnnnnn?

    Tuesday, March 23, 2010

    "I swear this has never happened to me before"

    A phrase that men know all too well. The older we get the more prevalent it becomes. The more we try, the harder it gets. Or doesn't. Time and time again, we just cannot seem to control our meat.

    This Sunday it struck a little too close to home. "I swear this has never happened to me before."

    With business discussions on the agenda and a potential slew of guests (although it turned out Sister Sister and Jill "I need a nickname please help" Nanof had to bail on us; not a good way to leave a second impression guys), the Sexy Burger Six decided to repeat an old favorite, the Peter Brady Burger. A delicious marinated pork burger, topped with X-Mom's famous applesauce, apple smoked cheddar, served on our favorite potato buns. What could go wrong?

    "I swear this has never happened to me before."

    Let's look at some possible causes before we get to the actual disaster:
    • I was really tired: I did not get a whole lot of sleep the night before. It was the first really nice weekend of the year in New England (Halter Top weekend according to the Sports Guy), which I would usually love. Unfortunately the one downside to this is a bunch of uppity birds talking about how much they enjoy the weather at 6 in the morning. F U you winged rats.
    • I had a lot on my mind: The Terps had just lost a devastating March Madness game. After a furious comeback in the closing minutes, my alma matter lost on a heartbreaking 3 with no time on the clock. My mind was definitely elsewhere.
    • I was very nervous: On this night we had first time attendee and my former boss, CEO of Boyce Property Maintenance, Adam "Big Bossman" Boyce attending. I spent years trying to earn his respect as his employee, but tonight was my first opportunity to show him how talented I have become. It was a lot of pressure.
    • My meat was over-marinated: Sometimes it all comes down to imbibing a little too much liquid. The sweet nectar can be a little too delicious and a little too tempting and you just cannot control yourself. Due to my lack of discipline, I let my meat drown in the marinade. As we say in Sexy Burger world, I had whiskey meat.
    Whatever the root, the result was failure. The over-marinated meat was much too heavy and was impossible to form into a firm patty. I should have known when I couldn't even get the meat to it's warm resting place that this just wasn't my night. As the patties just laid there lifeless on the grill my heart dropped. I had heard about this before. The time in a man's life when things just do not go his way. When the stars do not align and the cocks do not come home to roost. The night when a man's meat does not cooperate.

    "I swear this has never happened to me before."

    When I tried to flip the burgers they completely fell apart, limp as a dying flower. NOOOOOOOOO!!!!! What's happening to me?!? How could this be? I have been riding such a powerfully thrusting wave of success for so long and now this. Embarrassment. Shame. Tears. Sadness. Would I ever recover? Would I ever reclaim my thrown as the meat master?

    And in that moment as I stared at my wilted extension of self I was forced to make a decision: Would I let this one, tiny, rare, little incident affect the rest of my burger making life, or would I collect my manhood, flex my biggest muscle (my brain; get your minds out of the gutter), and prepare for the strongest comeback this world has seen since a former school girl declared "It's Britney, Bitch!"

    Stay tuned 'til next week and you will discover what I chose.

    See ya next burger.

    Thursday, March 18, 2010

    A Non-Burger, St. Patrick's Day Quickie

    The video above is the fake Irish band, and subject of the movie by the same name, The Commitments, performing Wilson Pickett's "Midnight Hour."

    2 things to note about this video: the awesome 90's style and the looks/voice combination of singer/actor Andrew Strong.

    The man has one of my favorite male voices ever.  He makes Joe Cocker sound like Carl Lewis.  Unfortunately for him, he also makes Joe Cocker look like Brad Pitt.

    Which brings up a philosophical question: If you had the choice to be really, really, really ridiculously good looking with a shitty voice or be dingleberry ugly with an all time great voice, what would you pick?  I can tell you that I have been crazy good looking for about 9 or 10 years now with basically an average voice and it hasn't gotten me very far, so I may want to go the Andrew Strong route for a little while.  What would you all choose?

    Wednesday, March 17, 2010

    The Luck O' The Irish Burger

    St. Patty's Day: The day when gingers are our equals (sorta...not really...ok not equals, but at least allowed out of their rooms)

    St. Patty's Day: The day when heroes are born.

    St. Patty's Day: The day when everyone is Irish (meaning we get blind drunk on stout beer; march in cold rainy weather; wear shamrocks and green, the traditional Irish garb; and pass out at 5 PM)

    St. Patty's Day: The day when we eat delicious Irish food (salty dry meat and boiled flavorless vegetables that make you fart. But seriously, not to go all Seinfeld here, but what is the deal with Irish food?  Before I got drunk on St. Patty's day, when I was 21 of course, I used to dread this holiday because X-Mom was making corned beef and boiled vegetables.  X-Mom is an incredible cook.  Having her cook this meal would be like the Spot singing Happy Birthday to a 1 year old.  Just a waste of incredible talent.)

    St. Patty's Day: The day of ultimate camaraderie (including drunken brawls because some bitch took the last green plastic hat that you had your heart set on and throwing parties at chain restaurants where you charge your friends $10 to get in the door to fund your Men's softball team instead of putting the money towards charity, or even better, beer)

    Whatever your reason to celebrate this magical holiday, the central theme seems to be fun for all.  For children there is a loveable mascot.  For American college kids it is a chance to prove your worth to your friends.  For American 20 somethings it is a chance to recapture the glory days (my old routine was a 6 pack of Smithwicks, a 6 pack of Mickey's grenades, and 6 Irish Car Bombs; this year I'll be lucky to do 3 Smithwicks, 1 Car bomb, and a long nap).  For adults with Irish blood, a chance to sample their native food and thank Cheesus that their ancestors came to Ellis Island and discovered spices and refrigerators.  For the Irish, they get to snicker at our weak attempts to drink as well as they do.  And for the aforementioned gingers, an opportunity to be among the drunken masses and be only mildly ridiculed and feared.

    For Sexy Burger, St. Patty's Day is an opportunity to put a spin on a "classic" meal (and get blind drunk).  When we approach a meal, we do not look at it for its obvious flaws (really Ireland? Boiled, unseasoned vegetables?  It's 2010.  The British have been to China and India.  The western world now have spices at our disposal), rather we look for its tremendous opportunities.  The good fortune to grind a meat that has never been ground before (literally never, we had to search far and wide to find a butcher who would grind corned beef for us; on the bright side, now we have a "guy").  The chance to use soft, spreadable vegetables that can be blank flavor slates.  The ability to use a hearty, flavorful beer as marinade.  And the luck to use our favorite buns once again.

    The Luck O' The Irish.

    • Ground CORNED beef:  As I mentioned above, we now have a "corned beef guy."  He does other stuff too, but our boy Mike at O'Driscolls really came through for this burger.  Every other butcher scoffed at our request, fearful that the salt and nitrates would ruin their precious little grinders.  Not Mike.  He said "F U science, I will not be stopped!"
    • Guinness: No Irish meal is complete without Guinness, but usually its just the drink in a complete nutritious meal.  We decided to put it in the meat because we're cool like that.  It cut the salt a bit, but otherwise the flavor did not come through too much.  But it warmed our little green hearts just knowing it was with us.
    • Boiled potatoes:  Spreadable and mostly flavorless, this is what the Irish survived off of for 2,000 years before a lack of them nearly killed off the entire Irish population, leaving us with the roachian gingers we have today.  What a strange group of people.
    • Boiled carrots: Since I discovered recently that I am allergic to raw apples and carrots, I haven't been able to eat carrots in a while, which is a shame because there are so few vegetables I can actually stomach.  So this was a nice return to one of my favorite vegetables.  The carrots remained sweet and cut the saltiness of the ground corned beef.
    • Boiled cabbage:  Whoever the lyrical genius was that created the song "Beans, beans the musical fruit..." clearly never ate boiled cabbage.  Woah nelly have I been farting up a storm since I had this burger.  It tasted kinda gross and was pretty waxy, but the gas made it allllll worth it.
    • Potato bread buns: Ahhhh.  Our favorite.  Again, an homage to the Irish staple (a potato famine?  Really?  I just don't get it!  America has been in the middle of an Eggo famine for the last 5 months and we are doin alright).
    With some provolone cheese and assorted condiments, this was yet another pleasant surprise.  We just keep kicking serious ass on these burgers.  I challenge you all to show us a burger we cannot dominate.  And I have to admit, in true Irish spirit, I was pretty drunk from the start to the finish of this burger.

    So as this fantastic drunk holiday ascends upon us, I ask you to raise your green beer, put your arm around a ginger, keep the puke bucket close by, do a little jig, and scream at the top of your lungs:


    Monday, March 15, 2010

    Dante's Inferno (Part 2 of 2)

    Sorry for the delayed Part 2 all you boys and girls in Burger Land, but it takes 5 days to properly mourn a fallen child star.

    In Part 1 I took a look at the outdated 7 Deadly Sins and the way Sexy Burger practices them, embraces them, and abuses them weekly. Unfortunately, in my long-winded prose, I completely left out talking about that week's burger, the Dante's Inferno.

    Inferno is the first part of Dante's Divine Comedy, an epic poem written in the 14th century. Inferno details the 9 circles of hell, which incidentally spawned the 7 Deadly Sins discussed last post. There's probably a bunch of other stuff in there, but honestly reading a long poem from the 1300s is kinda pointless. You are much better off reading a mildly humorous 21st century blog about hamburgers or a semi-complex sports blog about an over reported sports market (honestly it's not that complex and it has a lot of the same biting humor I bring to the Sexy Burger table every week; READ IT!!!).

    Let's jump right into the burger, Dante's Inferno.

    • Burnin beef: No, this is not a nickname for a wang with the clap. This is what happens when you take ground beef and mix chopped jalapenos and jalapeno juice in before you cook it. The heat begins.
    • Jot jalapenos: I actually re-tried these bad boys for the first time in some time on the last Sexy field trip to New York and the love affair began instantly. Because the heat cooks down some with them infused in the burger, the bold few at this gathering put extra jalapenos on top. The fire builds.
    • Fiery cheese: We turned to our good friends to the North, the Cabot family, for our cheesy needs. Pepper jack and habanero cheddar lined the top of these pungent pieces of deliciousness. The embers rise.
    • Blazin Buffalo Chicken Dip: One of our first timers (more on her and the others in a minute) graced us with this key ingredient straight from the depths of hell. Without it we would have been left with our pants down holding our ankles waiting for the Devil to punish us. The flames engulf!
    It was truly hell on earth. The Anti-Christ on a burger. Cheesus would not be proud, but sometimes to be Sexy you have to be a little evil.

    Joining us in our sinful adventure were five of our favorite Burger Minions, all of which made massive contributions. Frequent Sexy Burger visitors The Todd Smith and Squash cleaned the entire X-Cave before and after Burger time. First-timer Jill "Help I Need A Nickname" Nanof created the afformentiond Buffalo Chicken dip and took home March's Rookie Of the Month Award. And new Sexy Burger Neighbors Chrissy and Laura, A/K/A Sister Sister, brought along the sweetest chocolate ballls anyone not named Kardashian will ever taste. We thank all of them for making this a wonderfully hellacious night.

    Stay tuned for our drunken wobble to Ireland this Wednesday as Sexy Burger does St. Patty's Day the only way we know how: lots of booze and delicious meat.

    See ya next burger.

    The Fur Burger

    I have been struggling with this post about the Fur Burger for a while. What I thought would be one of my favorite burgers thus far, turned out to be a dull, mushy, disappointment. Considering that I am one of the founding members of the SexyBurger Six, some of you might be surprised to learn that I--the Kid--was a vegetarian for about 15 years. Yep, 15 years. And although I now consider myself a proud meat-flag waving carnivore, I still enjoy the occasional veggie burger, or tofu pad thai.

    Unfortunately, "enjoy" is not really the verb to best describe what I experienced with our home-made black bean burger. The Revolutionary Man and I loosely followed a recipe from my mother's Good Housekeeping magazine and damn did it look tasty! But we got cocky, and chose not to take Professor Purple's advice to make the patties and freeze them the night before we were going to eat them. We made them on the day of consumption. BIG MISTAKE. We should have known this was a mistake from the get-go, but plowed ahead anyways.

    Out of the SexyBurger Six, I am probably the pickiest eater, hence my nickname "The Kid". I eat like a bratty five year old boy, and my diet usually consists of chicken fingers, grilled cheese sandwiches, VERY well done burgers (without sketchy grown up cheeses like gorgonzola, and with lots of condiments, mainly ketchup).

    While these fur burgers were edible with copious amounts of salsa and hot sauce, the consistency of these mush patties left much to be desired. What we were chewing felt absolutely nothing like meat. So, given this lack of animal flesh, to me, the one saving grace for this burger was the fact that X-Mark actually ate it. And he didn't think it was all that bad. That really made my day, considering that out of all of us, Mark is the one that is happiest when he is elbow deep in a bowl of raw ground meat. He actually ate our non-meat creation, and unlike a kid, didn't spit it out into napkin, feed it to the dog, or just push it around on his plate. I'm proud of you buddy!

    So what have I learned from this experience? Next time around, Professor Purple will be in charge of making the meatless discs using her recipe, and perhaps we will have a backup batch of beef patties in the fridge. See ya next burger--and don't worry, we won't let this disappointment slow the momentum of the Burger Movement!

    Thursday, March 11, 2010

    What is SexyBurger?

    It is a Blog…

    Each week, six friends who call themselves The SexyBurger Six get together to make one ridiculous burger, and then blog about the experience. I know, that sounds a lot like the promo to Julie & Julia, but think of us as Julia Childs in thigh high boots, crotch-less panties, and Hello Kitty Nipple Tassels. Each burger we make comes from a master list of 50+ burgers that we created on a whim. Some were inspired by a single ingredient, others by a certain culture (pop, sub or other), and the rest came from rationally consolidating our favorite meals into a single SexyBurger.

    It is far more than a Blog…

    Web-logs are so 2004. Luckily, our vision stretches far beyond the limits of any one venue. For now, our website is a blog; but soon, the blog will just be one small part of a one-stop shop for all your SexyBurger needs. Our vision is one of collaboration and creation. It’s one of friends, family and strangers gathering and letting loose. It’s an open-source burger network and we’re going to take advantage of everything at our disposal in order for this dream to come to fruition. If Facebook and Twitter are the day’s fad then we’ll be there. If paddy-caking on rooftops becomes the new craze we’ll be there slapping your hand. We have T-shirts, bumper stickers , coffee mugs , and a whole lot more. We'll whip out a business card if we accidentally touch your bum on the street. We have video footage (ok same video as before, but we like it so much we didn't want you to miss it!) and photo albums. There are scripts for sketches, plans for calendars, recipe books, trading cards, jingles and the list goes on and on. At the very heart of SexyBurger is a guerrilla marketing campaign and The SexyBurger Six will never stop until our SexyBurger logo is more recognizable than Santa Claus, Ronald McDonald, and Mickey Mouse combined.

    The Future of Sexyburger

    Do we want to be a restaurant? You better believe it. Do we have the means to do so right now? Hell no. Our belief is that our success depends on all of you. If we cook a burger that you like, we hope that you, The Burger Mob, will cook your own version with as many tweaks and substitutions that make sense to your taste buds. If a restaurant ever happens, one thing that we all agree on is that, in addition to our own creations, all of our ingredients will be available in a fully customizable and affordable “build your own burger” section. Finally, we encourage you to experience SexyBurger with people you like…or sometimes even love. Half the fun of SexyBurger is the journey, and travelling alone is just so boring. Once this network has been established, we believe that anything is possible. When opportunity knocks, we will be there in our skivvies ready to open the door. We have the knowledge, the plans, and the skills at our disposal for when that time comes. Until then, we’ll invite you over, cook our burgers for you, and cater your parties. We’ll wash your car, and walk your dog. And if you get sick of us? We’ll still be in the kitchen every Sunday making one ridiculous burger. We aren’t going anywhere, Burger Mob, and we’d like to invite you along for one Sexy ride!

    Wednesday, March 10, 2010

    Corey Haim 1971-2010

    Sad news in Burgerville today. Corey Haim, one of the finest film stars of all time and part of the unstoppable duo "Corey and Corey", has passed away.

    As children of the 80's, this one hit us all pretty hard (although not really the Spot, she kinda hates the 80's; I know, I know, blasphemous, but please don't stone her to death she's too cute and too good a singer). Not only did one of our idols fall, but it also called into question our own mortality. For we, like Corey Haim, perform God-like work and sometimes when you experience such success, you feel untouchable. Well today, I hate to say my Burger Minions and fellow 80's kids, Corey Haim was touched. By the Reaper.

    Knowing full well that the preeminent 80's child happened to also be one of the Sexy Burger Six, I asked Professor Purple to say a few words on her hero's demise. This is what she e-mailed back:

    "No words can express the trauma that I am experiencing due to the loss of my great 80s idol. I can remember distinctly falling in love with him when I first saw my now favorite film, "Dream Alittle Dream". He was so adorable with his striped cane...I wanted to get run over by a car

    Or was it his "License to Drive" that made my heart pound with excitement?

    No I think when I realized his sexy, gothic bod in "Lost Boys", that's when I decided that there was no other man for me...

    Mark, I will let you write on the blog because I just can't face the facts... I will leave you with a special connection to my childhood.

    My good friend growing up, Jake Perry, also shared my love (actually he was wayyy more invested) of Corey and Corey. He had the amazing chance to meet him when he was able to be a guest on "the Two Coreys".

    So few of us could be as lucky as Jake Perry to have spent time with this cinematic genius. Our thoughts go out to everyone who was touched by Corey.

    And finally, massive condolences to Corey Feldman. Since last summer, Corey has lost his biggest idol, Michael Jackson, and his former best friend the other Corey. This would be like the X-Mark losing Paul Pierce and Mike Russell. Just a tough tough day for Coreys everywhere.

    Tuesday, March 9, 2010

    Dante's Inferno (Part 1 of 2)

    As I sank into my plush blue leather couch, fresh off our spiciest burger to date, a huge grin appeared on my face. That was a wicked tasty burger and all my guests loved it. Boy was I proud. I was the king of the castle, the cock of the walk, the finest man alive. Then upon my magnificent television appeared a man many of us consider the voice of reason and even the voice of God: Morgan Freeman. I was snapped from my moment of self-appreciation and taken back to one of my favorite movies, starring the Wise Mr. Freeman and the Hunky Mr. Pitt.

    The movie was Se7en. For those who have not seen it, the movie is about two detectives (Freeman and Pitt) who are trying to apprehend a serial killer who, like most serial killers, is jaded by today's human race. To show his displeasure with mankind, the killer attacks people who perfectly exemplify one of the seven deadly sins (listed in the picture above).

    So as I was thinking of this terrifically thrilling movie, I got to thinking that the seven deadly sins are a little bit outdated. And, not only are they outdated, but they are actively practiced by me every time I craft and eat a Sexy Burger! The following is my sinful trip through each of our incredible morsels of heaven (or should I now say hell?).

    Lust: Since women do not allow us to treat them like a piece of meat, I now treat pieces of meat like women. At the start of every Sunday, I lust after the night's Sexy Burger like a nerd from a classic 80's comedy lusts after the hot chick.

    Greed: As grillman and head chef I control which burger goes to each lucky customer. And while every chef wants his customers to have a great meal, I allllllways make sure I get the best. The medium rarest. The finest slice of cheese. The freshest buns. I want it. I want it ALLLLLLLLL!!!! I fear the power has gone to my head. And I like it.

    Gluttony: Despite our best efforts, Sexy Burgers will never be confused with a side salad. We are children of America, where if you are not obese you are probably poor and cannot afford to be (like me). So as soon as my precious (Cheesus Christ did I just make a Lord of the Rings joke? The Spot is clearly rubbing off on me) comes off the grill, I glutton the shit out of it, from first bite to final bite.

    Envy: I have a huge mouth. For some context: I wear size 14 shoes and have hands to match. I am able to fit my entire massive fist in my equally massive mouth. It's a fun party trick. Unfortunately, having this gaping hole at the bottom of my face forces me to eat much quicker than everyone else. Even though I usually serve myself last, I always finish first, and thus am constantly envious of my surrounding compatriots for still having Sexy Burger on their plates.

    Anger: When we are all done and left staring at a plate of oozed condiments, a wave of wrath washes over my gluttoned body. Our Sexy Burgers have become so amazing that I sometimes hate my normal sized stomach and tiny income for restricting my consumption. Luckily for me (and unluckily for porcelain) I get to take that wrath out on the toilet. Sorry buddy, that's the way it's gotta be.

    Pride: As I mentioned earlier, after I calm down and properly assess my feelings, the pride kicks in. I am a very modest man, but...well what my friends and I are doing is nothing short of a miracle. We are taking ourselves and our lucky Burger Minions to a place rarely visited by mere mortals. One taste of our Sexy Burgers and you will surely want to name your first born X-Mark. Or if you are really lucky, X-Mark Jr (ouch, I just got pistol whipped by the Spot).

    Sloth: The best feeling of all. With a drink in my hand, a belly full of burger, the beautiful Spot to my left, and something fantastic on the tube, I can enter blissful slothiness with the best of them. If pure relaxation is bad, then I do not want to be good. And how can such an adorable animal be a messenger of Evil?

    Well this post has gotten quite out of hand and I haven't even mentioned the incredible creation of this past weekend or the even better company bestowed upon us. So I am going to take a brief respite and continue this post tomorrow where I will explain one of our best burgers yet, Dante's Inferno.

    See ya next post!

    Wednesday, March 3, 2010

    The King

    A burger dedicated to my hero, my personal Jesus, the hip shaking, leg wobbling sexy mofo, the King, Elvis motherf@cking Presley.

    I am so completely enamored with Elvis that I don't even care that he went from this:

    To this:

    I'd hit that.

    I think Elvis would be proud of the way we chose to honor him. We wanted to make a burger based on the King's favorite sandwich. Although I've heard several variations on it, the one that keeps popping up is a grilled peanut butter, banana, bacon sandwich with powdered sugar. Elvis ate this every single day. This sandwich helped Elvis reach a nice round 350 fucking pounds. Ok maybe there were some drugs involved too but that's another discussion altogether. We wanted to take it a step further. We took those ingredients and added a hamburger patty. Then the Revolutionary man had the ingenious idea to use homemade fried dough in place of hamburger buns. He figured when you think "powdered sugar" your next thought should be "fried dough". Brilliant!

    Below is the Revolutionary Man cooking up the fried dough. It was surprisingly easy to make. Just take a bit of pizza dough and cook it in some oil and voila!

    He told us his argyle t-shirt made him feel fancier for the occasion.

    Here is the final result (recipe courtesy of The Kid's mother):

    My heart hurts just looking at these beauties

    The burger was exactly what I hoped it would be. A hunka hunka burnin food porn. The peanut butter held everything together perfectly. The bacon fit in quite nicely because it's, well, bacon. The sliced banana tricked us into thinking it was cheese while the fried dough cradled all the ingredients safe and sound before they entered our mouths. We've always said that ground beef goes well with everything and it this burger proves it.

    Look closely, I swear I can see the King's face in the meat...

    Ok so maybe it doesn't photograph so well but believe me, it was delicious. Just look at Professor Purple, she approves.

    Dead or alive (good Gods I hope that man is alive) I know deep down Elvis would approve. In his fat, slobbery, drugged-out state he would take one bite, turn to us, smile, and give us one of those all-knowing nods. Then I like to imagine him sort of evaporating into a cloud of glitter. That's just my fantasy. Some of us choose to imagine something more like this:

    and there is nothing wrong with that

    See ya next burger!!!