I have arrived!

Many people in this old world have normal taste buds. You know the type. Taste buds that taste food without the burden of the many negative food related experiences that this author has endured throughout life. Taste buds, that for most of what passes over them, tell the brain, “that’s good”. Those kind of taste buds I do not possess. Oh, for you people who love just about everything that you every find yourself consuming, the life of the picky eater is an utterly foreign concept to you. But believe me, this journey has been its own torture. Yes. I have endured more than fifty years of mostly unsatisfying meals and disappointments of the chemoreceptor type. One of the most unpleasant parts of traveling for me is the unpredictability of meals on the road. Though McDonalds is one of those restaurants that is always decent, and entirely predictable, the fact that a guy should probably not eat that food six or eight times over a weekend prevents me from enjoying those carbohydrate laden meals exclusively.

I am not 100% sure of what the source of this burden actually is. I happen to have been blessed with an olfactory sensitivity second to nobody I have ever known. In my years, I have never had an instance when someone asked, “do you smell that”, and I didn’t. Of course I smell it. I have the sense of smell of a bloodhound relative to the average human. I could smell people arriving at work before I saw them. Literally. Having a great sense of smell is sometimes very handy. Actually, I really like having a great sense of smell. However, perhaps that contributes to the negative nature of most of my eating experiences. Maybe, just maybe the reason my sense of what tastes good is due to the fact that, stay with me now, maybe my taste buds just work a whole lot better than most people. It could be. I don’t know. I guess I could tell myself that so I could feel better about it. Right? This brings me to the reason for this dribble.



I have been, for all of my adult life, in pursuit of the consistent perfectly tasting hamburger. Is that so much to ask? More meat is NOT the answer either! If that was the case, the slab of meat served at Fuddruckers would be my choice. No way. No how. A hamburger is simple and must be perfect in every way. For me there is nothing more satisfying than a nicely cooked hamburger dripping with ketchup, my syrup of choice, and sandwiched between two halves of the perfectly prepared hamburger bun. I can tell you when and where and even the spot where I was sitting in a restaurant when I had the best hamburger of my life. Seriously! I remember at a company meeting eating at an Uno Italian Restaurant in Eden Prairie Minnesota, the very best hamburger of my life. I was on the right side of the open end in a booth sitting directly across from Zack Steven, when that most perfect of hamburgers was served to me that cold March day in 1997. What a burger that baby was! That my friends, was the burger every burger I have had since then has been measured by. The gold standard if you will. A burger to die for, or to live for! Surely this is what manna must have tasted like in the wilderness!

Thick and juicy! An 8 oz. beast that was still a little bit pink in the middle but not really raw inside. The juices flowed with every bite. The juice ran into my whiskers and the ample ketchup I had applied oozed out the sides of that bun! Bun! I failed to detail the bun! WOW! What a bun! That bun was one of those really large soft hamburger buns with a light dusting of flour still on the outside of it. It seemed like it had been steamed prior, though I know that was just all the steam and juices that came from the burger itself. A hamburger bun, not some disgusting big honk ‘in hard roll that would go better with pasta. A grade A Jumbo Hamburger Bun! And the burger! A burger that had not only been cooked to perfection, but was delivered to my table while the juices were still almost bubbling on top of that charred and blackened exterior. Not a reheated miserable excuses of a hamburger that I have had served to me many times in the past. Oh yea. I got it bad. I am a hamburger snob and proud of it! Oh what a thing of beauty that burger was. My lifelong problem is obvious isn’t it?

I cannot get that burger every time even at Uno. I know. Life isn’t fair. The sad reality is that even though I did get the perfect burger from Uno that single time, I have been back and they have never repeated the glory they rained upon me that day thirteen years ago. So. This year, this spring and Summer I began my quest. I am a guy who figures things out. This is what I do. This is who I am. I determined I was going to do what I had always believed previously likely impossible. Making the perfect hamber with my own two hands. Due to the fact that I have eaten homemade hamburgers barbequed by others and myself hundreds of times and have NEVER, not one time ever had even a great homemade grilled hamburger, I just didn’t think it could be done on a grill. This year, I decided I was going to figure this mystery out or die trying. This was my quest.

I knew this was going to be tough if not impossible. There are many factors that go into the perfect hamburger. Here are the critical factors as I see them;

- Choosing the right Hamburger. What proportion of fat makes the best burger?
- Choosing and applying the perfect amount of seasoning.
- Heat. This I think is the most important thing. Heat. Heat. And then yes… more Heat.
- Timing. Cooking the perfect amount of time on each side for the perfect to die for hamburger.

So. I began my quest. After trial and error and I don’t know how many bags of charcoal and less than perfect hamburgers I made throughout the spring summer and fall. However, I have done what I set out to do.

I bought a gas grill and quickly converted it to a charcoal hamburger grilling machine. I had to customize the grill to allow just the right amount of airflow to trap in the right amount of smoke for the best flavor. I fitted two previously intended cookie sheets into the grill just above the gas burners. This allows me to load up plenty of charcoal that needs to be loaded right up to the grates of the grill itself for maximum heat. My heating surface is 16” deep by 24” wide. Loaded with charcoal. That’s a lot of charcoal you say? Yes. To make the perfect burger it’s going to take a lot of charcoal. HEAT is the key! The grate actually sits on top of the charcoal when I start the fire. Then I light the coals. The coals must all be burning evenly across the vast surface needed for the 8 oz. burgers.

Cooking this takes a little preparation. I fire up the charcoal using plenty of lighter fluid. Then I check it in about 15 minutes to make sure it is burning evenly. If not, I do a little tweaking to help the coals lagging behind to get caught up. When I see it’s all burning evenly, I can toss the meat on the grill in about 30 minutes. I let this heat up with the cover down by the way. I can wait 45 minutes if I need to. The intense heat is really rolling now and those flames are licking the air just anxiously awaiting to do their duty in making the perfect ground up cow flesh man can eat.

This has been a process. I make an 8 oz patty that is about 7” across. It is important that the patty not have any cracks in the edges. Those cracks will allow the yummy juices to escape denying you of the taste of a lifetime that awaits. When I place the patties on the grill, I do so without going any closer to the edge of the charcoal below that grate than about 3” from the edge of the heat. I slap those puppies on their now with confidence. Confidence that I have the times, heat and seasoning down exactly to satisfy the most discriminating pallet that I know of on the planet. Mine. After loading all the meat, which takes about 15 seconds, I close the cover of the grill. Then I begin counting the seconds. I return into the house to wash my raw hamburger stained hands and fingers. Then it’s back to the kitchen for fresh foil to wrap the completely prepared meat in very shortly. By the time I get back I only have about another minute of counting to do. 150 seconds is how long that meat endures the first leg of her journey to delivering me paradise. 150 seconds to char the top side of that burger and seal that baby up so the juices stay where I want them. Then the cover is opened and the meat is scrapped from the grate and flipped to the opposite now sizzling side for its bath in the flames of delectable delight. An additional 80 seconds is all that is required. Now this is important.

The burger needs to be eaten soon. Very soon. The longer it sits, the more those juices will escape. The outside of the burger will dry out and the experience will be dashed upon the rocks. I wrap the cooked to perfection meat lightly in foil. Hurry that cookie sheet with its foil covering into the kitchen where the fresh giant hamburger buns are waiting. Slather on that ketchup and bite down on the best burger any human being will ever sink his/her teeth into. I did. I have found my way. I have reached the goal of being able to self prepare the best hamburger in the World, and I can repeat this now every single time. The mystery of the best burger on the planet that had eluded me with fleeting glimpses behind it’s curtain heretofore, has been found out. This must be nirvana and I have arrived…