Let the Burger Speak For Itself

On Sunday morning I had a burger for breakfast, because I’m quite willing and able to eat a burger at any time of any day. To provide a bit more context, I met up with some friends who also wanted to have burgers for breakfast, because I’ve been lucky enough to find friends that are also willing and able to eat a burger at any time of any day. As we ordered our burgers, and then even moreso as we consumed our burgers, I couldn’t wait to tell the whole world about these burgers. They were really great burgers, after all, and we had made some notable customizations. I thought of all the clever ways I could frame the burger discussion, talk about going to Burger Church on Sunday morning, or pontificate on how thanks to this burger I was really living like a king. As I tried to flesh out those thoughts, though, nothing I could come up with came close to holding a candle near enough to really illuminate the burger that I ate on Sunday. The more I thought about it, the more I realized: This particular burger I ate doesn’t need a lot of fluff. When I describe the burger, and post the accompanying photograph, people will understand. They’ll understand all right.

Over the course of eating this burger with my pals, they mentioned that they had conceived the idea of this particular burger a few days prior, and had been making plans to eat it ever since. They only gave me a 30 minute notice via text message. “30 minute warning. We are heading to Lot 2 at 10 and ordering the burger with an egg and sausage gravy.” For reference, Lot 2 is the name of a restaurant in my city of Omaha, Nebraska, many would say one of the best restaurants in the city, which serves what many consider one of the best burgers in the city, and on Sundays, one of the best brunch menus in the city. And Sunday brunch would offer the perfect opportunity to build our monstrous conception.

Normally the burger, made with certified Piedmontese beef, comes topped with lettuce, roasted tomato, and a bacon-onion marmalade, and is always cooked to a perfect medium unless otherwise specified, and we certainly weren’t going to change any of that. We ordered the burgers as they normally are made but with the additions of an over easy fried egg and a side of the sausage gravy normally reserved for biscuit-slathering. The end result looked something like this:

By the way, it also came with breakfast potatoes.

And it was good. It was real good. It was rich, and heavy, and creamy, and meaty, and everything else you’re imagining it to be and then some. Maybe the most impressive part is that the brioche bun actually held up through the course of the sandwich. I mean, sure, egg yolk and gravy and marmalade oozed out of the edges all over my hands, but a lesser bun would have simply dissolved under the pressure. This one stood strong to the bitter end. (And just in case anyone was concerned, any leftover sausage gravy was poured over the delicious, crispy, fried potatoes, and then promptly scarfed.)

But how to wash down a burger of such prominent stature? That’s the easy part:

Just a simple breakfast beverage buffet

That and a long nap.

VanDiagram