The Art of the Veggie Burger

Veggie burgers are not burgers.

Never fear, vegetarians/vegans/pescetarians understand that the veggie burger does not taste like, look like, or feel like a burger. Please, refrain from asking us questions about beef burgers and how they taste better. To me: they are apples and oranges, when the orange is really a cow.

I used to not order veggie burgers on menus. For a long time, they carried the same status a salmon, a food with great potential, but largely ignored. I refuse to pay for a reheated Morningstar Farms patty, especially since a package of four sits permanently in my freezer. Restaurants create two types of veggie burgers: a plate designed to include vegetarians on a menu, or the the dish, which I prefer, created of yummy goodness. In the past year, various casual eateries began experimenting with the patties, so I began taste testing, which is not a new hobby. I spent the last 15 years testing out crab cakes, and still have not found the perfect combination of crab, mayo and Old Bay. I even tried to make my own, which ended up looking like a shedding blob and sadly fell into pieces, quickly followed by the chef.

The two places I presently recommend are Bourbon and Science Club. Bourbon, an eatery in Adams Morgan and Glover Park with a bourbon menu which rivals many wine lists, is known for its tater tots, baked beans, and burgers. At a place like Bourbon, a veggie burger should be an after thought. Instead, the varied mixture of vegetables, BBQ sauce, and cheese make the patty well-worth slowly enjoying. My only complaint is that the burger is so fresh, it has the tendency to collapse on you. Secretly, I get pleasure from this disintegration because it means I can eat the veggies intermixed with my tots. The Science Club, a funky bar near Dupont Circle which serves only vegetarian snacks, veggie burger holds together better, but is served with classic ketchup. Be sure you get yours with the fries.

However, I am still looking for a home-made veggie burger I am brave enough to try. If I find a good recipe, I will be sure to post one. But, assuming it is similar to making crab cakes, I am terrified.

A Valentine's Day Delight.

A. and I never really celebrate V day. At first, this abstention occurred out of coincidence. The majority of our first four years together we lived in different cities, then there was the year in which I contracted Ebola from kindergartners. In the end, we never developed a habit for flowers and heart shaped chocolate boxes, except that might be my dislike for both items. This year, February felt like a tornado, one where I am being swept away by grading, reading and writing. With this in mind, we continued our past habits. On V day, we explored the Pompeii exhibit at the National Gallery which is worth a trip, but try to go when the tourists aren't swarming. Although, we stopped to enjoy the floor show at the end of the exhibit. Sometimes watching people speed through a museum tells you more about humanity, then learning history.

Instead of venturing to my favorite restaurant, Hook (started by a chef and high school friend of A's), we elected to cook that evening. After scouring the internet for recipes, we settled on Almond Crusted Salmon found on the Whole Foods website: I know, I know, I knock it and I love it. Cooked with honey mustard and almond meal, the salmon is topped with caramelized onions. I served the salmon with rice pilaf and their Roasted Spice Carrots. The carrots blended Moroccan flavors with spices in any kitchen. Starting with a glass of prosecco, we cooked the meal together. After a night of trying a new recipe and talking, I remember how much more enjoyable an easy Saturday together can be.

Here are the links for the recipes:

Almond Crusted Salmon

Roasted Spiced Carrots

On Missing Meat...

Last weekend, while visiting my sister in Ohio, she turned to me with a grave expression and asked, "M, what do you miss most about me?" Surprised, I immediately looked at her husband. I wondered if this was another pregnant hormonal question, the sort that you should not answer but just smile and nod, feigning momentary hearing loss. Potentially treading on unsafe waters, I giggled a bit and asked,"What was your question?" She replied, "What do you miss most about meat?" Relieved we weren't going down some sort of minefield, her husband and I relaxed and laughed at her, not with her, mind you. It took me a minute or two to answer her though...It had been a long time since someone asked me that question. Most often, people are more concerned with what I can eat. There are long discussions about the health benefits of a low-fat diet, my absent gallbladder, and whether one would call me a vegetarian or not. But actually, C's question is the most interesting inquiry that I have gotten about not eating meat, what do I miss about it. The answer, nothing.

I never miss meat. To miss meat, would imply that there is something addictive or necessary to eating meat. Kind of like the question one might ask someone who used to smoke, drink, or even shop at Saks too much. I don't see someone eating meat and wish I was too, because well, I was never addicted to meat. What I do miss? Options. I miss going to a restaurant and being able to look at the entire menu. During my brief meat eating years, age 22-25, I loved being able to open the over-sized menu and order like a king. I would loudly declare, "I WILL HAVE THE MEAT!" Confused, the waitress would ask me to specify what type of meat, "um," eyes squinting the continuous rows and rows of options, "the COW!" A would quietly explain to the waitress that I was new to this meat thing. Now turning to me, like a small child wearing a bib at a four star restaurant, "Now, sweetie, how would you like that meat cooked?" "So its dead!" I would announce. Well, to tell the truth, it didn't go exactly like that, but sometimes it felt close. To be honest, I never understood how to order meat. A would tell them if I wanted the steak bloody or leathery. The plate would arrive, and I would sit and stare, grab the wrong knife, and saw. A few bites of chewing and I would quickly get flashbacks to childhood dinners, which was always exciting with me choking on steak, bi-weekly, at the dinner table. Panicked, I would look at A and wonder if he knew the heimlich, or would he do the heimlich after my embarrassing steak-less knowledge on how to properly chew, and then be reminded on why I don't eat meat. I don't need a production to my meal.

As I said, what I miss most is options. At home, A and I cook millions of recipes and find delicious meals where he doesn't miss the meat. What frustrates me most, is that I wish restaurants wouldn't treat vegetarians and pescetarians as a side show, someone they remember they might have to feed, but don't care for them to return. I refuse to go to a restaurant where my only choice is to decide between pasta marinara and salmon. Those dishes are usually poor in quality; I could make a much better version at home. Meat is a cultural dominant that appears to be the only choice to a good meal, which is simply not true. In fact, often meat distracts from quality ingredients, spices, and recipes. When the meat is gone, the cooking must be strong. Yes, you can tease me for that last one.

A little Southern Charm....

Sometime in high school, I began to adore grits. The textures and flavors are a wonderful home-cooked meal. In college, I settled on microwavable cheese grits, but the flat texture and lack of creaminess meant the meal was just a glorified version of ramen.
A relatively new restaurant on U Street, Creme makes some really, really good Shrimp and Grits. On my friend Dan's suggestion, we sat in the swanky restaurant, soaking up the ambiance and $10 glass of Shiraz. Note: Sometimes the house wine is not so much of a household price.

Last week, after A's panic attack in organic trendster hell, we found some yummy grits/ polenta meal.Of course, in the spirit of the new year and saving money, we jumped on the opportunity for making them at home last week.

Modified Neely's Shrimp and Grits.

• 4 cups veggie broth
• 1/2 half and half
• 1 cup grits
• Salt and freshly ground black pepper
• 1 tablespoon butter
• 1/4 cup Romano Cheese
• 2 tablespoons butter
• 1/2 medium onion, chopped
• 2 cloves garlic, minced
• 1 green bell pepper, chopped
• 2 pounds uncooked large shrimp, peeled and deveined
• 1/4 cup white wine
• 1 (14.5-ounce) can diced tomatoes

Directions

1. In a heavy saucepan, simmer the veggie broth and half and half. Then, whisk in the grits and a pinch of salt. Stir constantly and return to a low simmer. Cook until thickened, stirring often, about 5 minutes. Stir in the butter and cheese.

2. Large saute pan over medium-heat. Melt butter and saute onion, garlic, and green bell pepper. Saute until tender and translucent, then add the shrimp and saute for about 2 minutes. Add white wine and diced tomatoes. Bring to a boil, about 5 minutes. Season with salt and pepper.