Lettuce Be Thankful

Hamburgers and summer go together. I make burgers all year 'round but, like tomatoes, they just taste better in the summer. We set the table on the deck in the dappled sunshine under our little madrone tree during those lovely warm evenings when the sun won't set for another two hours or so and we just bask in the fresh air and the sounds of children playing up the street.

I thought this time we'd make one of those lettuce wrapped burgers without a bun, since good buns are hard to come by and I had run out of that Acme herb slab bread that I usually substitute for buns. I used soft Boston lettuce, not a good choice - it tasted good but it had little structural integrity and oozed hamburger and tomato juice down our wrists and dropped our sautéed mushrooms out onto the plates until we resorted to the niceties of forks and knives.

Still, one can't but be grateful for beautiful warm summer evenings. Lettuce be thankful for summer weather, for hamburgers and for a bunch of rowdy malcontents who started our country 'way back when.

Happy Independence Day.

Putting The Ham In Hamburger

My Beloved adores hamburgers. Freshly ground, he will happily eat the beef raw. He also loves it cooked, but just barely - the top and bottom should be seared but the middle can still be chilly, as far as he's concerned.

He likes cheeseburgers, mushroom burgers, burgers with a slice of raw onion on top - you name it, he loves it. Just last week, I found a new way to tickle his taste buds - adding the ham to hamburger.

I had purchased some uncured, shaved Fra' Mani ham for sandwiches and, while I was forming our hamburger patties, that ham came to mind. I minced a couple of the thin slices with a sharp knife and worked it into the ground beef before pan searing the patties in the usual way. The smoky, salty essence of the ham really enhanced the beef - they tasted like they came off the barbecue that I reluctantly covered up when the rain began.

Nestled into Semifreddi sandwich rolls with the bready middle hollowed out and replaced with sautéed mushrooms, topped with a frill of lettuce and anchored with fresh tomato slices and dabs of June Taylor's ambrosial catsup, this was finger food for the gods.

Celeburgers

Okay, so what if I didn't know who Tyler Florence was before reading the July issue of Sunset magazine? Big deal!

Actually, it is a big deal - Tyler Florence, that smartypants whippersnapper of a TV celeb chef, taught me how to make hamburgers. I've made hamburgers all my life - he just taught me how to make them truly delicious.

Use brisket. That's all you have to do, he said. I will admit to some initial skepticism but I bought one on his advice (by the way, that's one giant cut of meat!), the smallest one I could find, and lugged it home to cut into five one-pound portions and froze the other four. Hauled out my ancient but reliable Cuisinart and whacked up the unfrozen portion, shaped it quickly into patties (no salt, no pepper, no nothing else) and left it for a few minutes to rest. I'm not sure why meat benefits so much from that but I've been known to enjoy a nap myself from time to time so why the heck not?

Tyler Florence maintains that the meat-to-fat ratio of brisket is perfect for hamburgers. I have to admit that I trimmed the fat on mine just a bit before chopping it for the Cuisinart - it looked just a little bit too rich, even for me.

I decided to pan fry the burgers this first time, just to see how they performed in the simplest preparation. "We'll just see about this whizkid's credentials, now, won't we?," I thought. First, I sautéed some sliced mushrooms in the pan and set them aside while I gave the burgers a quick sear in the same pan to caramelize the top and bottom but leaving the inner reaches still pink and moist.

The first bite swept away any reservations I may have harbored and convinced me for all time. It was simply the best hamburger I've ever tasted and My Beloved rolled his expressive blue eyes to heaven, a sure indication of hamburger nirvana from him.

Okay, so the younger generation may have a thing or two to teach me after all. At least now I know who Tyler Florence is so I don't look quite so clueless at cocktail parties.

Oldie But Goodie

Every now and then, I like to go back through my recipe card file to pull up meals I learned to make years ago. It's nostalgic to serve things I made as a young bride and to remember the folks from whom I learned them. French Bread Sandwich is a meal like that. I learned how to make it from my first husband's mother, back when I was a new bride and we stayed with First Husband's parents for six long weeks while he was mustering out of the Navy with many hitches and hurdles - I don't think they wanted him to go.

Mom T never liked any help in her bright yellow kitchen while she was cooking - she preferred to do it all herself. She would occasionally let me do the dishes afterward, but the cooking was all hers. She often made elaborate lunches as well as fancy dinners - she was a true homemaker. This meal is one we had for lunch or an easy dinner.

Split a loaf of French bread (she used a thick loaf like a batard rather than a baguette) in half lengthwise and place the two halves on a baking sheet, making sure they are pretty level. Spread them lightly with butter, then with mustard (we used a horseradish mustard - she used ballpark) and catsup (next time, I'd make it with fresh tomatoes instead). Top with about one cup of grated cheddar cheese depending on the size of your loaf (I used havarti this time as that's what was in the fridge) and a layer of crumbled, raw hamburger, about half a pound. Sprinkle with garlic powder, pepper and salt. Slide into a 350 degree oven for 20-25 minutes. Remove, cut crossways into sections and serve piping hot.

These Oldies But Goodies bring back lots of memories; go look back in your recipe archives and see what you come up with.

For Love Of Onion Boy

My Beloved adores onions in any form. He slips raw onions into sandwiches, salads and, sometimes, just eats them plain. When he kisses me after consuming onions, I call him Onion Boy.

I like onions, too, but they don't like me unless they've been cooked or unless they are the super-expensive Maui onions - otherwise, urpy burpy time. I like to please him, however, so the other day I made him onion burgers.

I minced some mild red onion and mixed it gently into the ground round so the onion flavor goes all the way through (don't handle them too much or they'll be tough). He likes his burgers rarin' rare, anyway, so only the onions on the outside got cooked - inside they were really raw and tasty. Luckily, I eat mine medium rare so my onions were cooked enough to take the edge off their repeating power.

Onion Boy was pleased.