I've just come back from lunch at Fudruckers, and very nice it was too. Half a pound of ground beef, cheese, barbecue sauce and, oh yes, some lettuce. Now, while it was a fine burger, it was but a mere shadow of the majesty that was the Fudruckers 2004 burger.
The '2004' as we aficionados of the lunchtime meat like to refer to it, was the King Kong of burgers. Not merely in size, although they did offer it up to the full 1lb variety, but also in sheer Burgery Majesty. If burger-land was Rome, then the 2004 was the Augustus Caesar of Burgers. The big one. The top dog. It ruled other burgers with a benevolent, paternal, and yet ruthlessly unyielding force of will that left lesser ground meat products quaking in terror and, yes, respect.
And what, you ask, voice quavering with barely suppressed excitement, made this burger so bleedin' good?
Sausage and fried egg. Oh yes. By themselves, humble breakfast foods, but when cooked and laid lovingly across the warm, bronzed and muscular back of the burger, fresh and still salty with the good honest sweat of labor in the field, ah then my friend, ah then there comes forth such a magic as my mouth can hardly credit.
They added cheese of course, and never let it be said I carped at the presence of the fruit of the udder tree, but it was rather gilding the lily. The symphonic harmony of sausage, egg and burger all but drowned out the flute-like accompaniment of the dairy.
A giant of a burger. A leviathan of a burger. The Mount Everest of burger-tastes. One mouth is hardly big enough to contain it. One lifetime scarce time enough to sing its praise.
Oh the bliss. The wonder. The sausagey, eggy, meaty tidal wave of delight. Eat one and forever will it dominate your taste buds.
Which is probably why the gits have stopped serving it.
Remind me to get my revenge some time.
My cruel, vicious, and above all, egg and sausage-less, revenge.