For 2 weeks, I've thought about burgers. Everyday I found myself dreaming about a melty, cheesy, crunchy lettuce-y, delicious bread-y burger. I conjured the distinct onion fragrance that only wafts from a Winstead's steakburger; the outer crispiness of my dad's cheeseburgers; and the oh-so-delicious veggie burger that never fails at Foundry. I was overwhelmed with burger memories, hopes and dreams. I didn't know if I could live up to past experience.
Today my imaginings became reality — black bean burgers with all the fixings, including sauteed onions and mushrooms, and homemade fries.
The little sliders were plated and the condiments (tomato-onion chutney and wholegrain mustard) were tabled. So many times, the things I make are just-a-pinch to the right or left of great. But the creamy richness of black beans, the crisp kale, and the buttery goodness of red wine-doused onions and mushrooms left me scraping my plate with the last salty french fry. I done good.
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