A Burger and a Chili
A lot of people like burgers made with high fat meat, but when I make my own, I usually favor lean meat with lots of stuff in it. This recipe for Beef, Mint, and Pepperoncini Burgers with Lemon-Feta Sauce and Tomato Relish introduced me to the concept last year — once you add a cup of chopped mint and pepperoncinis to a pound of ground meat, you realize you can do anything. I’ve experimented with combinations of roasted garlic, sundried tomatoes, cheeses, herbs of all sort, and whatever else I find in my fridge, but I think that mint burger holds up best. I don’t really like many things on burgers with buns, though, because it’s so unwieldy, so I generally eat it with a knife and fork.
When I saw a recipe for Grilled Pork Burgers in Sunday Suppers at Lucques, I was excited, but a bit uneasy — they have lots of stuff in them, but they turned out to be one of the fattiest things I’ve ever made. And they’re so gloriously good.
They’re actually triple pork burgers, made up of pork, chorizo, and bacon, plus seasonings like cumin, thyme, garlic, shallots, and sliced chile de arbol. And fyi, the linked recipe is different from the recipe in the book, where those seasonings are first cooked and cooled before being added to the meat; I even toasted and ground my own cumin seeds, too. The linked recipe says this version, including a hamburger bun, has 53 grams of fat.
But the book takes it further, recommending a brioche bun, manchego cheese, aioli, romesco, and arugula. I got around to all of them but the arugula. Thankfully, the book does not give nutritional info.
So, this was the final thing, complete with that hulking beast of a patty and, um, perky brioche bun from Bouchon Bakery. I was concerned that all of the flavors and textures would become jumbled, but they worked together very well, with an emphasis on spice and smoke and pork and unctuousness. If anything, the manchego gets a bit lost if sliced too thin, which is often the case with cheese in burgers like this, so be sure to put a lot if you really to taste it; we put ours on too late, too, and it didn’t melt all the way.
The romesco was very strong and spicy on its own, but it settled right into the burger. You can find the recipe within this Romesco Potatoes recipe, following steps 1, 3, and 4, or go ahead and make the whole recipe, doubling the amount of romesco so there’s enough for the burgers; btw, I had leftover romesco and just put it on virtually everything I eat now and the potatoes get a rave review here.
For the aioli, I just made mayonnaise in my food processor and added garlic I’d made into a paste.
After two meals of these burgers that used up all 4 buns that I bought, we happened to watch a show about a chili cook off, and I began to get a craving for chili. I thought about all the leftover pork burger meat that I still had to get through before I could even think about making chili until I realized that the burger meat would be a perfect base for chili — being already loaded with cumin, peppers, garlic, etc; the thyme was a slight wildcard, but I figured it could add depth. I’d only made chili once before years ago, but after looking at some recipes, I got a general idea of what to do and winged it from there. I just had to brown the meat, saute onions and garlic, add more spices (like ancho chili powder, cumin, pepper flakes, and a touch of cocoa powder for depth of color and flavor), cook it down with some canned tomatoes and liquid, and add beans at the end. I also drained the meat after browning it, because, seriously, if I only gained one pound in France that’s now gone, I’d feel a bit silly bulking up here because of triple pork meals and ice cream sandwiches.
So, the amazing burgers turned into amazing chili that’s even further enhanced by a dollop of romesco (and a little aioli, if you’re in a very certain mood and maybe think of it like rouille in bouillabaisse) and the manchego finally gets its due, grated generously on top.
