Here’s a story I wrote a few years ago, based on a true story. It’s not a burger review but it leads up to the burgers my brothers and I ate at home. I hope it gives you a good laugh and re awakens your appetite for our next bite of the Japanese burger (This one- the featured image- from outside of Yokosuka.)
“Here. You open this.”
Brandon chucked the ground beef concealed in its cellophane, plastic wrapped, airtight package at his younger brother Rich. Rich popped upright, and alert, unfolding his arms as quickly as he could to catch the beef and carried on as ordered. They and their other two brothers were crowded into the dully lit kitchen corner between the sink and the stove, illuminated only by the flickering light above the sink and the lamp over the stove. The rest of the house was dark and silent. This was their first “guys night” since their family moved into the new house. Mom and Dad were gone. The girls were gone. Where to? It didn’t matter. These guys were hungry and they were going to make burgers; burgers were Dad’s thing, until the guys grew older.
Actually, Brandon was making burgers; the others were standing by pretending to help, reclining against the kitchen sink.
“What if we invented, like, a breakfast soup?” Bryan asked. Rich gasped.
“Great idea,” he said, as his jaw dropped to compensate for his lack of interest with Bryan’s foolishness, demonstrating his proficiency in the language of sarcasm. The sharpness of his tongue rivaled that of the knife he had used to pop the beef open.
Rob, the youngest brother grabbed a pan and dropped it on the stove watchin it rock on its warped bottom until it came to a halt as he reached out for the knob to turn on the burner, trying his best to help while steering clear of trouble. Brandon was like a ticking time bomb you never knew when might go off. Rob thought he might have a chance to make it as a chef someday. This evening though, he watched Brandon take the lead. He knew better than to challenge his big brother.
Disturbed by Bryan’s rambling about this breakfast soup, “…with eggs, like egg drop soup! Should we put grits in it? Or maybe bacon! I, mean, it could happen!,”
Brandon, took a break from mincing onions as he snapped his head towards Bryan.
“Are you going to do something?! Here. You open this. That’s what could happen!” He passed Bryan a jar of black pepper. The kitchen wasn’t really Bryan’s place; he belonged at the drawing board. If he was going to eat, though, he had to help.
“I would, but you already have one open.”
Bryan shuffled through the cabinet until he came across an older jar.
Brandon sucked his teeth and shook his head “That’s empty! Just op-”
Bryan couldn’t hear him. As he continued listing the ingredients for his breakfast soup, “…potatoes are a breakfast food right?” he emptied the remnants of the allegedly empty jar.
“See! Look at all this pepper,” he said, stretching out his hands.
With a half playful impatience Brandon stopped and stared at Bryan. He slapped Bryan’s hand upward, thrusting a cloud of black pepper toward his brother’s tear ducts.
“Good. You use it.”
“AAhhh! My Eyes!”
This was the first time Brandon smiled for the evening. Of course, he wasn’t the only one. Bryan darted for the bathroom, tears pouring from his face. He wasn’t crying though.