Today I ate meat.
I decided in the morning that I would try one of the local beef burgers from the competition. I like what the event represents, as I mentioned before, so I asked a couple friends out to dinner and sealed the deal.
We order. Everyone chats and laughs, and I join in, but I'm actually quite nervous on the inside. I have a good thing going. Will this burger send me into a carnivorous rage? Will I go on a meat bender? The food arrives, and it is ridiculous. The burger itself has jalepeno cheese and mayo, banana peppers, caramelized onions, and is topped with a deep fried stick of cheddar cheese. Really. This comes with a side of fries AND onion rings, both coated with melted cheddar cheese. Not a meal for the faint of heart, and certainly not one for an aspiring vegan.
I start with my sides. Fries and onion rings. Next up is the cheddar cheese stick. I think it is the oiliest thing I have ever eaten. By this time, I am full and my stomach is sending extra signals of hatred towards me for the greasy abuse. But the burger sits there, and the people around me are cleaning their plates.
I ate about 3 bites. Just like the pepperoni, the flavor of the beef didn't even come close to what my memory/imagination had provided me. It wasn't "bad"; there was nothing wrong with the burger at all. It just wasn't the euphoric taste I had predicted. I suppose I was relieved. The burger was taken home for someone else to eat, so it didn't go to waste.
Maybe I just need Gordon Ramsay to cook me some ribs. A barbaric, sexy meal with my English love. Again, my imagination might be juicier than the real thing...
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