I just ate a hamburger for dinner. This was no ordinary hamburger. I would never normally waste your time with a recounting of my dinner, but since you're reading this I assume you have time to waste. Plus, I think you'll agree, this was one fucked up hamburger. A list of those ingredients that formed the structure of the now-in-my-belly burger:
Meat in patty form.
Cheese. Glorious natural cheddar.
One halved donut.
Yes, that's right, a donut assumed the role of "bun" for this evening's hamburger. This is the culinary equivalent of Will Ferrell being cast in place of Russell Crowe in the movie Gladiator, or Ron White reading Byron, or Shaquille O'Neill driving a Miata, or Eskimos sunbathing. Honestly? It was terrible, but it must be documented. This is the closest I will ever come to the gastric delights of the Super Fans of Saturday Night Live fame. What about the tomatoes, pickles, and onions, you ask? They were there, but they were not part of the party. They were all piled neatly, along with their friends lettuce, ketchup packet, and mustard packet, opposite the donut burger. It takes a true talent to make simple, piled condiments look positively gourmet, but whoever came up with the donut burger managed to do just that.
I call it the "donut burger" to try and salvage some semblance of dignity for my choice of menu item. In actual fact, the "donut burger" is named the Bada-Boom Burger. I couldn't make that up, and yes, I too have images of a sleazy guido in a way-too-expensive suit making dinner for the kids and having nothing but donuts to step in for the missing buns. "Hey, Giacomo! Here's ya burger...with a do-NUT. Bada-Boom! And stop your crying!"
So why order this melange of tastes? I can offer no better reason than the following: Boredom. Sheer, American boredom.
Sweet, Jesus. A hamburger with a DONUT for a bun.