Fourth, cheese. Not processed. Not “American.” Use cheddar or gorgonzola. Place it on the patty 30 seconds before the end. Let it melt. Not like pasta. Like a hug.
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Fifth, bun. Not white. Not dry. Use brioche or barley bun. Brush it with butter. Toast it in a pan until it’s lightly caramelized. It should be soft on the inside, crispy on the outside. Like a cloud, toasted over a fire.
Sixth – Vegetables. Tomato – ripe. Onion – thinly sliced. Cucumber – fresh. Salad – arugula or lettuce. Not bagged salad. Fresh. With a drop of water. It should be crisp, like an autumn leaf.
Seventh – Sauce. Not jarred mayonnaise. Mix Dijon mustard, sour cream, garlic, lemon juice, and a pinch of honey. Mix everything in a mortar. By hand. Let it be a little uneven. Let it smell like garlic. This is a human sauce.
Eighth – Assembly. Not like in a restaurant. Not in a tray. By hand. On a plate. First – the bun. Then – sauce. Then – lettuce. Then – tomato. Then – patty. Then – cheese. Then – onion. Then – cucumber. Then – the top bun. Order is ritual.
Ninth – Eat. Not with a knife. Not with a fork. With your hands. Let the sauce drip onto your fingers. Let the bun fall apart. Let yourself be dirty. This is a sacred act. You’re not eating. You’re engaging in a dialogue with the food.
The tenth is after. Don’t clean up right away. Sit down. Look out the window. Smell the food. Understand: this isn’t a hamburger. This is a memory of freedom. Of eating simply, deliciously, without shame. Without “healthy” eating. Without calories. Only pleasure.
