The IK Basic Burger

Restaurant menus offering hamburgers with overly fancy toppings or exotic fillings make me extremely nervous.  No, I don’t want artisanal French cheese, hand-foraged field mushrooms, or Iberian ham atop my burger. Tapenade doesn’t belong inside a burger, though I once followed a misguided recipe calling for just such a combination.  And foie gras burgers, for some the ultimate in dining chic, are just wrong. They don’t belong together. Foie gras is a delicacy meant to be served, at best, with a few grapes and a glass of Sauternes. Hamburgers represent casual American eating at its finest, needing only salty, greasy fries and a cold beer.

And when said burger, with house-made-catsup-from-tomatoes-up-the-street, Vermont Ph.D. cheesemonger’s Cheddar, and basement-cured pancetta, all arranged on a wood-oven-baked spelt bun, costs $30, with fries a la carte, I am moved to order the fried chicken. That $30 buck burger may be terrific, but I can rustle up a decent approximation at home for far less, including those a la carte fries. Not so fried chicken. Restaurants have heavy-duty deep fryers, professional ventilation systems, and companies to cart away their used cooking oil.  On the other hand, not for nothing is this blog called “The Insufficient Kitchen.”

These burgers get their boost from judicious applications of Worcestershire and Tabasco sauces.  You want a gentle frisson of flavor, not to set your tongue afire.

This meal is transgressive: all those carbs from the bun and potatoes, no salad. Not a meal you’d serve to Marion Nestle. Nor is it nightly dining. But occasionally, a basic burger is just the thing.