Brony, I Shrunk the Burgers

King size candy bars, foot long hot dogs, KFC's Mega-Jug (*see below).  Historically, Americans have striven to make foods bigger.  Yet, as we exerted our gluttonous freedom by creating corn dogs that eventually resembled the size and girth of actual dogs, there was a small contingent of people who sensed a shift in the paradigm.  "Though there be freedom in eating until one's rib cage bends, why pursue the giant corndog," they called out gallantly from the marble steps of their local Wienerschnitzel, "when we can make tiny ones, MINI corn dogs, if you will, and thus, be able to eat like fifty of them?"  As elementary schools across the nation rejoiced in these hallowed words, the seeds of the tiny food revolution took root.  All right, enough with the history lesson.  For this week's meal, Karen and I made the most beloved tiny food of all: the slider.  

* That's right, it requires a handle and a whole lot of patriotism. 

Although we didn't choose the slider just because it's small (and cute as a button).  No, we chose it because Tony'd had some ground beef in his freezer for weeks that he had yet to use.  This was no ordinary "E. coli beef" from your average grocery store.  No, this was premium, organic, free range, 100% grass-fed, ground beef from cows who had been given the opportunity to study the arts and philosophy and come to the decision on their own to give their lives for the higher purpose of nourishing humanity.  In other words, Tony and I took one look at each other and said simultaneously, "Kick ass burgers?"  Yeah, gotta make some kick ass burgers with them cows.  There truly is no higher purpose for ground beef.


So here's how our burger plan of attack went:  Homemade buns (tiny ones!), caramelized onions, blue cheese, green stuff, done.

Onions.  Whether raw, grilled, pickled or simply fermented for weeks inside the stomach lining of a Siberian caribou, onions can liven up any burger.  As a rule, I don't mind a nice cathartic cry, like when I watch the final episode of The Munsters, but the burning feeling that causes your eyes to water when cutting onions, I hate.  Luckily, I had to slice the red onion, instead of chopping or, I shudder to think, mincing, so it was a near painless process.  After that I just threw the slices in a pan with oil, sauteed them until brown, sprinkled on some sugar and cooked them on low heat for enough time to eat half the pan under the guise of "just checking."  These take a long time and smell amazing, so I recommend you make more than you think you'll need.  Let's say, an extra 10-12 Tony mouthfuls.


All right, so I know that you can find hamburger buns in any grocery store.  I know that you can even get your hands on some fancy brioche buns at any T-Jo's or Whole Foods these days, but can you find tiny hamburger buns?  Oh . . . you probably can?  Well, in any case, I think you should make your own because it's fun and therapeutic to knead dough and I'm about to give you a kick ass recipe to do it!  Do I use the term "kick ass" too much?  Anyway, I mentioned in my food philosophy that I lived in Bulgaria for a time and one of the things that Peace Corps does when you settle in to your host country is to give you a cookbook chock-full of all your favorite American recipes made with substitutions that you can actually find in your country of residence.  For instance, you love pecan pie?  Well, start loving walnut pie because there aren't any damn pecans in Bulgaria!  (I checked.)  It turns out that hamburger buns are also a hard to find commodity in Eastern Europe and so the following bun recipe comes courtesy of Cooking in Bulgaria, 2008 Edition.


Sandwich Buns
This recipe makes 12 giant hamburger buns, so for sliders I cut it in half and made . . . nine?  Why the hell did I make an uneven number of buns?  I have no idea.  I also forgot to add the salt.  You should probably not be reading this blog if your aim is to cook good.


2 cups milk
1/4 cup oil
1/4 cup + 1 teaspoon sugar
2 tablespoons dry yeast
1/4 cup warm water
6 cups flour
1 teaspoon salt


Heat the milk to scalding.  In a medium bowl mix oil, 1/4 cup sugar and hot milk.  Let this mixture cool.  In a separate bowl combine the yeast, 1 teaspoon sugar and water.  Let yeast mixture sit until frothy, then add the cooled milk mixture.  Whisk in 2 cups flour and beat until smooth.  Let rest 10 minutes.  Beat in salt and enough flour that the dough can be turned out on a floured surface.  Knead about 5 minutes, adding flour.  Divide dough into 12 pieces, shape rolls and let rise 30 minutes on an oiled cookie sheet.  Heat oven to 375F and bake 20 minutes.


The smaller slider buns will take less time to cook, so my rule is, "When they look yummy, they're done."  These looked pretty yummy, but I figured I'd smear some butter all over them anyway because why would you not do that?  Right?

Since Karen went the extra mile to make homemade buns, we felt justified in throwing some frozen Trader Joe's sweet potato fries in the oven to bake and calling that cooking.  It's the only way to get these delectable treats at home, as I'm not legally allowed to deep fry food and the homemade baked versions always get simultaneously soggy and blackened.  With the fries cooking, I had no choice but face the patties.  I've never made burger patties before, and our internet was down, so I had to rely solely on my horrible instincts and vague burger hearsay.  Karen insisted I pack the middles of the patties with a pocket of blue cheese.  I was hesitant, because of, forgive the technical jargon, the possibility of "Cheese Leakage."  Granted, I don't know much about engineering or architecture, but I know stuffing a building full of cheese isn't a good idea.  I tried to argue, but it was like telling a child on Christmas Eve that Santa thought she totally sucked.   

I solved the questions of seasoning and bleu cheese stuffing, only to face the most daunting task yet: cooking these little guys to a beautiful medium rare.  What I wouldn't have given to board the Magic School Bus and have Ms. Frizzle tell me what was happening inside those patties.  They turned out a bit overdone, but nonetheless delicious.  I'm generally supportive of tiny foods, but the burger is one item that benefits from heft as it uses its mass to protect the innards from getting overcooked.  In the show, this is the point at which Arnold would become queasy from my use of the word "innards" and the lizard would start a dance party.      

Despite all of Tony's nitpicking and crippling insecurities, those sliders were . . . you guessed it, kick ass.  Don't forget that one must toast the inside of the buns on a skillet with plenty of butter, add some greens with a bit of balsamic vinegar and you've got yourself a restaurant quality mini burger.

I will admit that stuffing the burgers with blue cheese meant that you didn't get any cheese in the first few  bites, but when you got to the center mmmm-MMM was it tasty.

And since we did such a good job of portion control with our sliders, we figured we deserved some dessert.  What goes well with all-American burgers?  Apple pie of course!  But what's way easier to make than an apple pie and tastes almost the same?  An apple crisp!  Well then, let's make one.  This crisp recipe comes courtesy of my BH&G Cookbook and is really easy.  


Along with kneading dough, I also find peeling apples oddly therapeutic so that's what I did.

Peel and slice some apples, cover them in sugar, cover that with oats, cinnamon, more sugar, flour, butter and some chopped nuts and throw that guy in the oven for 30 minutes.

If you don't already know that you must serve a crisp (or any other warm fruit baked treat for that matter) with a scoop of vanilla ice cream then you are probably also too dumb to put your pants on in the morning so how did you even get to this website in the first place?  I'm sorry, that was a tad harsh, but for real, you can't eat apple crisp without ice cream. 

Well well well, you've become quite the crisp expert, have you Karen?  It might interest the people to know that, prior to my mentioning it that day, you had NEVER EVEN HEARD OF A CRISP!  Then again, I'd never cooked burgers, despite always loving them.  It was a groundbreaking night, one full of little failures and big successes, tiny burgers and huge flavors and, most importantly, big happy bellies.  Then it quickly became a night of feeling too tired to breathe enough for our brains to work.  Do not operate heavy machinery after eating red meat, red wine and ice cream.  In fact, don't even operate tiny machinery.