Her Imperial Majesty Junior is eight years old and is an expert in getting what she wants. Sometimes it starts as a suggestion. Other times, it's a complaint. The one constant is that it is constant. And in a moment of weakness or inattention, we give in.
Most of the time, it's another stuffed animal. She has so many I've lost count.
The latest though, came in the form of dinner, something near and dear to my heart. She wanted something she called an "Untidy Joseph". I agreed, not realizing that what she was really asking for was a Sloppy Joe.
Yeah, I know. I haven't had one in about 40 years either. I seem to remember they were a staple of Friday nights for a while, snarfing one down right before The Wild Wild West came on.
The simplest way would be to open a can of Manwich™. But what's the fun in that? No, the only way to make a really sloppy Sloppy Joe is more or less from scratch.
Ingredients:
- One large yellow onion, diced
- One red bell pepper, diced
- 1 pound of ground beef – 90/10 will work. Anything with a higher fat content will require you to drain the rendered fat off
- ¼ cup brown sugar
- 15 ounce can of tomato sauce
- 1 tablespoon of Montreal Steak Seasoning (I know it's cheating but, hey, it's good)
- 1 tablespoon each red wine vinegar and Worcestershire Sauce
Technique:
- Sauté the veggies in a bit of olive oil until soft, about ten minutes or so.
- Add the ground beef and sauté until brown. If there is excessive render fat, this is the time to drain it off.
- Mix the sugar and steak seasoning mix, then add to the beef and veggie mixture.
- Next, add the tomato sauce, Worcestershire sauce, red wine vinegar and cook until thickened and reduced.
- Served on toasted rolls.
Our results turned out pretty darn tasty and it did give me the opportunity to do some cooking with Das Kinder. Sloppy Joes – Untidy Joseph's if you will – are a great way to have a little kitchen interaction with your own little ones. And it's a good way to take a step, albeit a small one, into your own past.
I see that Netflix has the Wild Wild West. I think it's time to for Das Kinder to meet Jim and Artie. All while eating an Untidy Joseph.
When one leaves home and goes out boldly into the world, the world changes. The home that one once knew evolves, slowly, almost imperceptibly, like tectonic plates that move only a few inches a year.
You turn around, and almost everyone you knew is gone. Friends move away. Their parents die. That oh-so-fun basement where you used to party with your mates belongs to somebody else now.
But, most of us go back, if only to catalog the changes.
Roads move. Intersections turn into roundabouts. My elementary school was bulldozed and turned into a Super K Mart. True story.
It's an obvious point. Think Einstein's relativistic traveler: you get on a space ship and go away only come back to a place you don't recognize. Only a few remaining touchstones of the past are around to give the returning traveler solace.
In Greensboro, where I once lived, things have changed radically. The Sears I went to in order to sit on Santa's lap is long gone. The University continues to expand, turning ball fields into buildings. The dive bar where I once saw REM play is an upscale coffee shop. So it goes.
But on Lee Street there is a little bit of the past preserved like a fly in amber. And it really hasn't changed since the 1970s.
Beef Burger.
I drive 90 minutes in each direction for their Superburger, all the way, dipped. It is as close to a singularity in the universe as exists. The backstory:
Once upon a time, there were Biff Burgers across the south. The chain started in Florida and slowly spread northward. Biff – an acronym for Best in Fast Food – was a regional chain with two very interesting features. The first was a tangy barbecue-esque sauce that the burgers were dipped in prior to being placed on the bun. The other was an ingenious device called The Roto-Grille™. It consists of two circular grills, one atop the other, that turn like a turntable under broiler units. Burgers go on the top grill to cook, while buns go underneath to toast. But more often than not, the fat from the burgers drip down unto the buns. The result is cholesterol and bliss served in waxed paper.
I remember them from my time at UNCG and I drive back every so often for that taste that can't be duplicated.
Ralph Havis has been running the place since he bought it from the original owner in 1971. Once, I asked him if he was ever going to retire.
"No," he said. "You keeping eating them and I'll keep cooking them."
Succinct.
In the late 1970s, the Burger King chain bought out Biff Burger. All the Biff Burger franchisees where given a choice: they could stay Biff Burgers, or they could switch to Burger Kings. But the choice came with a catch – Burger King was only going to advertise the Burger King line. The Biff Burger owners would have to go it alone.
So they all switched. All except Ralph and a fellow in Tampa. Those are the only two Biff Burger's left in the world.
Ralph changed the name a few years back just to make sure he didn't get sued by somebody. I can't imagine anyone doing that but I suppose it's prudent.
As far as burgers go, it's a mess. With the special sauce and other condiments dripping off the bun, it is definitely a napkin intensive sandwich. Still, I wouldn't miss a bite.
Someday, Ralph will retire. And it will be sad. But as long as he keeps making them, I'll keep eating them. And driving 90 minutes in each direction to do it.
Beef Burger
1040 West Lee Street
Greensboro, NC 27403
(336) 272-750
Cuisine: Burgers to die for
Rating: *****
Prices: $
Atmosphere: Unchanged since 1971
Noise level: low to moderate
Open: Mon – Sun 11 am to 11 pm
Reservations: Of course not.
Other: Cash only, 'natch
We rank restaurants in five categories: Extraordinary***** Excellent**** Above average*** Average** Fair*
