Showing posts with label burger. Show all posts
Showing posts with label burger. Show all posts

Monday, January 14, 2008

Hobos. Pioneers and Way-Pavers.

I don't know a lot about hobos. What I do know is that I used to dress up as a hobo every Halloween as a child. It was really easy and I already had the clothes. However, in the 3rd grade, we were having a costume contest and most of my outfit was makeup, unfortunately, I didn't want to be in full makeup all day long, so I left it up to my 3rd grade teacher to do my makeup. I know what you're thinking--great choice! That's what I thought. Looking back, the lesson I've learned is to never give somebody you torture on a daily basis a loaded gun. My 3rd grade teacher took that makeup and smeared my face some ungodly black and red the likes of which would make baby Wes Craven pee his pants. I ended up having to enter the contest as "Hobo Burn Victim". It wasn't one of my prouder moments. But thinking back now, I wonder how many Hobo burn victims there have been trying to create foods that will last the tests of time. How many people had to die for the first Hoboburger to see the light of the barrel fire? Eight? Twelve? Probably at least eight.

Why do Hobos hate bacon?

I was just thinking...what if we also had bacon on this Hoboburger? Granted, the bacon would command too many tastebuds and may leave the bologna standing in the background, unknown and unappreciated--like me at senior homecoming, but without the stink of Jack Daniels and Big Red.

Perhaps bacon would be a nice addition after the first burger. Is there etiquette on how long you have to wait before you ask for for bacon? I assume that's like immediately salting a chef's food before you even taste it. Thoughts?

I'm ordering Destiny--extra onions.

My name isn't important. Neither is my age. What is important is the Hoboburger. I've never had one, but this fall that may all change. I don't know how not to get my expections all tizzified, so I thought maybe if I wrote out my thoughts, it would lead to self-explanation and self-regulation concerning the Hoboburger. If I could read my own expectations, they would then become tempered on down the road.

At least that's the plan.

Apparently the Hoboburger is thick-cut bologna cooked on a grill and done up with the finest of fixings. To call them "fixin's" would be an insult. Apparently these burgers are arrayed with the finest of slicings and dicings, but not so much as to overpower the actual bologna.

I've made no secret of my history with bologna. Of course, I've never really told anybody about it either. I used to take about three or four slices of bologna, stack them, cut them in half, stack those, then cut them into length-wise and width-wise, creating tiny stacks of bologna, and I would then eat these stacks--or "buildings" as I called them--with a toothpick. The wood brought out the bologna-y flavor of the bologna, which I'm sure is going to happen with the Hoboburger. I look forward to the wood flavoring, as I did as a child.

I do have somewhat of a brand-loyalty when it comes to bologna, mainly sticking with Oscar Meyer, Dinner Bell or Eckrich. Though sometimes as a child, we would get the bologna straight from the butcher, so it was neither "brand name" or "generic". I did not put up a fight against the butcher as I am never opposed to local businesses making money. I think investing in meat-based infrastructure is one of our most important duties as citizens. I would rank it 7th over-all, right above #8, which is "citizen's arrest".

Other forays into bolognadom for me would be the infamous "Bologna Bowl", which was simply a slice of bologna, topped with a slice of cheese, and then microwaved. The bologna curls up into a bowl of cheese, which sounds great until you eat the rubberized bologna and get burned by the scalding cheese. It was a great idea, but the implementation needs work--just like multi-speed escalator that I've tinkered around with.

Now I don't know how often I'll update this blog. Probably just when the feeling hits me. But I look forward to pinning down my thoughts as the Day of the Hoboburger approaches. It should be fun. Or it may not be. Either way, there will bologna.