Rare
One day last week I was to meet a friend in a town thirty miles from our house. I was half way there when my cell phone rang and my friend informed me he wasn’t going to be able to make it. I know him fairly well so I was halfway expecting the phone call. But now what do I do? It’s a nice day, I’m outside the city and traffic was light so I decided to continue driving and buy myself breakfast.
Stopping at the McDonalds, where we were to meet, I order a breakfast burrito and cup of coffee. Then I moved aside so the guy behind me could order. I couldn’t help but hear him place his order. He said, “I’d like a cup of coffee and a rare hamburger. Not medium rare – rare.”
Suddenly memories of my days as a fast food cook flashed into my head . . .
As a young college student I had landed a job at a fast food restaurant three days after arriving in town. It was a job that provided some excellent perks.
It was a fast food restaurant like McDonald’s but instead of just serving hamburgers and fries, they had fish sandwiches, fried chicken, tacos, fish and chips, sausage sandwiches, and ice cream. One of the benefits was we could eat anything we wanted for free. This was great for a young, single college guy. But an even better benefit was everyone else who worked there was either a high school or college lady. A job that paid me, gave me free food and the chance to work with some attractive and available women. These are the kind of perks that makes you pause and think – does life get any better than this?
In these types of restaurants things are standardized so the quality is the same from one restaurant to another. For example hamburgers were pre-formed and frozen when we received them. They were made at a ratio of 22 to 1, meaning one pound of meat made 22 hamburgers. We would thaw out the patties prior to cooking and since they were thin they cooked fast. They were to be cooked for one and half to two minutes on each side. Tacos were to be deep fried for thirty seconds. Fish was to be fried for 2 minutes, two pieces of fish per order served with half an order of fries.
Now when you’re trying to cook for a bus full of tourist or several vans full of students passing through town a special order could really screw you up. While cooking for a bus full of tourist there was a request for a rare hamburger. I made it the best I could. It came back as being to done. I made another; it too came back as being to done. I took yet another hamburger patty, placed it on the grill, waited twenty seconds, flipped it, waited another twenty seconds and then prepared it. It came back as being over cooked. I’m trying to cook for a whole bus of hungry people while one person wants to be a connoisseur of a forty-nine cent hamburger. By my fourth attempt I was a frustrated. I took a hamburger patty, threw it on the grill, turned it over and then scooped it off. The total time on the grill was less than five seconds. Placing it on the bun I notice it looked rare, well, actually it looked raw but I thought to myself, “You want rare, you’ll get rare.” I doctored it up with mustard, ketchup, and a pickle which were the standard condiments, wrapped it up and sent it out. It must have been perfect because it didn’t come back this time.
At McDonalds I had received my order and was sitting in a booth. I watched the man who had ordered the rare hamburger. He sat down, took one bite, glared at the hamburger, hastily wrapped it up and marched back to the counter. I chuckled to myself as I thought, “Okay, I can leave now. I know where this is going.”
Stopping at the McDonalds, where we were to meet, I order a breakfast burrito and cup of coffee. Then I moved aside so the guy behind me could order. I couldn’t help but hear him place his order. He said, “I’d like a cup of coffee and a rare hamburger. Not medium rare – rare.”
Suddenly memories of my days as a fast food cook flashed into my head . . .
As a young college student I had landed a job at a fast food restaurant three days after arriving in town. It was a job that provided some excellent perks.
It was a fast food restaurant like McDonald’s but instead of just serving hamburgers and fries, they had fish sandwiches, fried chicken, tacos, fish and chips, sausage sandwiches, and ice cream. One of the benefits was we could eat anything we wanted for free. This was great for a young, single college guy. But an even better benefit was everyone else who worked there was either a high school or college lady. A job that paid me, gave me free food and the chance to work with some attractive and available women. These are the kind of perks that makes you pause and think – does life get any better than this?
In these types of restaurants things are standardized so the quality is the same from one restaurant to another. For example hamburgers were pre-formed and frozen when we received them. They were made at a ratio of 22 to 1, meaning one pound of meat made 22 hamburgers. We would thaw out the patties prior to cooking and since they were thin they cooked fast. They were to be cooked for one and half to two minutes on each side. Tacos were to be deep fried for thirty seconds. Fish was to be fried for 2 minutes, two pieces of fish per order served with half an order of fries.
Now when you’re trying to cook for a bus full of tourist or several vans full of students passing through town a special order could really screw you up. While cooking for a bus full of tourist there was a request for a rare hamburger. I made it the best I could. It came back as being to done. I made another; it too came back as being to done. I took yet another hamburger patty, placed it on the grill, waited twenty seconds, flipped it, waited another twenty seconds and then prepared it. It came back as being over cooked. I’m trying to cook for a whole bus of hungry people while one person wants to be a connoisseur of a forty-nine cent hamburger. By my fourth attempt I was a frustrated. I took a hamburger patty, threw it on the grill, turned it over and then scooped it off. The total time on the grill was less than five seconds. Placing it on the bun I notice it looked rare, well, actually it looked raw but I thought to myself, “You want rare, you’ll get rare.” I doctored it up with mustard, ketchup, and a pickle which were the standard condiments, wrapped it up and sent it out. It must have been perfect because it didn’t come back this time.
At McDonalds I had received my order and was sitting in a booth. I watched the man who had ordered the rare hamburger. He sat down, took one bite, glared at the hamburger, hastily wrapped it up and marched back to the counter. I chuckled to myself as I thought, “Okay, I can leave now. I know where this is going.”
posted by Ralph at 4:03 AM
5 Comments:
ewww. I love a good steak red in the middle, but burger.... Pink is one thing, at least it's warm but the burger you sent out had to be cold. ewww. That would not make the cheese very melty at all.
Not for me R. Burgers should be done where I'm from.
Very well done for me too. Considering the disease risk I wouldn't take a chance on rare beef anyway.
I worked as a cook for years in a restaurant in the mid 70's. Never once had a request for a rare hamburger, but the steaks -- now that was another matter. I didn't eat steak for about 20 years after working there.
For me - hamburgers well done. Steaks - medium or medium well.
I’m not a fan of people who hold unreasonable expectations. If your ordering a burger in a restaurant, then absolutely, request it the way you like it, but not if you’re going to a place like McDonalds. McDonalds is the type of establishment that has made everything as cheap and as quick as it possibly can. Working behind the grill you will typically find some high school kid who went to a 3 hour training course and was taught by the high school kid before him. They’re not there too make a delectable meal, they’re there to cook the overly preserved and mass produced food exactly the way they have been told. If that’s not up to ones standards, then that’s completely fine, just take it elsewhere, where you will pay 3 times as much and wait three times as long, but hold all the right to be as picky as you desire.
And this is all aside from the fact that a rare hamburger is a little more then a little strange.
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