If my barbecue post didn’t make this sufficiently clear, let me be explicit: I am not a vegetarian. I am an unrepentant and bloodthirsty carnivore. I take full advantage of the fact that millennia of evolution have shaped my incisors into tiny triangles specifically designed to tear into meat. A vegetarian might look at a perfectly marbled cut of prime rib and call it repulsive, even obscene; I might describe it as tantalizing, even pornographic. All of which explains why I drove 45 minutes just to order a burger I’d only seen on the cover of Phoenix magazine.
Of course, this was no ordinary burger gracing October’s “Best New Restaurants” cover. Amuse Bouche, a cozy French bistro in Surprise, offers a “half-pound patty infused with cabernet wine and topped with Swiss cheese, crispy bacon, and carmelized onions.” I’m 26 years old and need a bib; I just drooled all over my laptop’s keyboard. I’m not much of a wine connoisseur – though five years of college did leave me well acquainted with the prestigious Boone’s Farm and Andre vineyards, as well as numerous boxed varietals – but I hopped in my car, filled the tank with gas, and set off for Surprise.
I was the only customer in the restaurant when I arrived. Not only did my burger arrive quickly as a result, but it afforded me the opportunity to talk to the restaurant’s owner between mouthfuls. By photographing my meal before eating it, I had somehow given the owner the impression that I was an actual journalist, and she was kind enough to let me into the kitchen to meet the chef when I was done. The chef, who was either actually French or a terrific actor pulling a prank on me for no reason, let me in on some of the secrets of his trade. “My burger treeck,” he said, “eez to use one teaspoon of salt for every pound of ground beef.” Sensing that I was seeking something a bit more substantive, he leaned in and conspiratorially whispered “And always have plenty of wine in ze keetchen, it makes all food taste better.” All food? “Not just ground beef. Allllll food,” he confirmed, with a self-satisfied nod. Driving back to Phoenix, my belly bulging from an amazing meal, I concluded that the man was either a culinary genius or a raging alcoholic. Either way, the burger he made was well worth the drive.
Funny. Very funny.
Culinary genius AND raging alcoholic, perhaps?
I, too, saw this issue of Phoenix magazine. It’s on my coffee table, and not a day goes by that I don’t look down and wish I had the time (or talent) for something so drool-inducing. I’m living vicariously through you!