- There’s something in this article about how “dirty” food is for the rich and stupid that needs expanding on: how it builds cultural capital to eat trashy food if you’re rich but frowned upon if you’re forced to do it because you live in a food desert. I can’t help but feel it links to the long history of “slumming” from the 1800s, that same mix of voyeurism, exploitation and social paranoia.
- Only one in five millennials has tried a Big Mac. The Wall Street Journal points out how the Golden Arches are failing to keep pace with the demand for higher quality hamburgers.
- An inside look at America’s byzantine systems that attempt to stop the next big foodborne illness
- The origins of authenticity
- How to cook fish using hot beeswax via Yu-ching Lee
Posts Tagged → hamburger
Burger Joint Name Generator
Any word that ends with “-am” can be joined to the word “burger” to make the name of a burger joint.
Here are all of them:
Teddy’s Bigger Burger, Hawaii
My favourite trait in Americans is the lack of fear. It spawns an infectious entrepreneurialism. It tempts them to cook a patty of ground chuck to medium-rare over fire rather than safely char it to a risk-free tasteless puck. The above was hands down my favourite hamburger of 2010, from Teddy’s Bigger Burger in Waikiki, Hawaii.
Teddy’s is a short walk from “the Wall” surf break, just near the Zoo at Waikiki, a right-hand reef break that gets packed with local bodyboarders even in the smallest swells. It is a convenient break to bodyboard: you can just walk to the end of a pier and jump off straight into the midst of the action, catching waves that propel the fearless alongside the concrete jetty. Tourists line up to take photos. It’s the first place that I’ve ever been alongside someone on a paipo board, the wooden precursor to the modern foam bodyboards; a portly, grey-bearded Hawaiian who looked like he was carved from a brown leather banquette with an uncanny knack of picking the finest wave even from the poorest sets, riding a beautiful slice of polished timber.
Teddy’s is so close that my boardshorts were still moist. I could taste sea salt dripping from my holiday stubble.
Squishy bun, a patty that tastes of pure barely-cooked beef, pickle, sliced onion, an in-season tomato and a decorative frill of lettuce. There is no meal better.
Apologies about the photo. It’s rubbish.