My paternal grandfather was a very traditional man. Granted, I remember him as a sweet, quiet man who wasn’t above having a pretend tea party with me when I was little, but nevertheless, he is largely remembered by my family as being one who loved his routines.
My dad has told me a story about a time when he was a boy and my grandmother (who was as carefree and goofy as my grandfather was reserved) decided it would be a riot to surprise Pop with a hamburger when he came down for breakfast instead of his usual toast, eggs and bacon. Naturally, Pop looked at the burger like it was a turd sitting on his plate and looked up at my Grammie with pure bewilderment, while my dad and Grammie lost it laughing.
I wish I could have been a fly on the wall for that one.
Regardless, the idea of a burger for breakfast has always been equally repulsive and hilariously awesome to me. I take after both sides, what can I say?
And guess what I found in my fridge this weekend.
A leftover hamburger patty and the appropriate accoutrements.
Now, I’ll go ahead and say that my idea of a hamburger, seeing as gourmet burger bars are popping up everywhere these days, is a little different than Grammie’s was.
So, given my available resources, I made a legitimate breakfast burger.
I love runny yolks.
Here’s a tip: if you’re making burgers and know that you’re going to have leftovers, cook them (I grilled mine) until they are about 1/2 done to your liking. Then, when you reheat them, just top with cheese and stick in a 400° oven until the cheese is melted.
I fried an egg up over-easy, so that the white was completely set and a little crispy around the edges but the yolk was still runny. Then I laid the burger with cheese on a toasted bun, topped with the egg, a squirt of ketchup and Frank’s Red Hot (because some habits I don’t want to break).
Whoever first thought to put a fried egg on a burger was a genius.
I’m guessing that if Grammie had put this in front of Pop, he wouldn’t have turned it down.