Burger Blues

I had an itch for a cheeseburger today, so went to a place in the neighborhood that has them. Bad idea. Really bad. I will now try to help you understand why that idea goes in the Bad Ideas Hall of Fame.

Half the burger is still inside the paper wrapping. You don't want to see it. Trust me.
Half the burger is still inside the paper wrapping. You don’t want to see it. Trust me.

The salad was miniscule, the soup tasteless brown water with bits of cabbage floating in it. The burger was nearly raw. When I saw that it came with onion rings, I thought, “Oh, goody!” They are still pretty rare here, but unfortunately they were battered, not breaded, and had soaked up enough oil to grease Yokohama–I confirmed this through a very scientific experiment with a paper napkin. The humiliated Coke was completely flat, not a bubble in sight.

The green powder in the little bowl was an optional burger topping called “midorimushi”, which I thought meant “green bugs” but turned out to be euglenophycea, some sort of algae that is supposed to be really good for you and tastes like parrot puke.

Although there is a lot of very good Asian food available in this area, I must remember that if I want Western food, I should make it myself.

Here’s an idea: There are endless guides about where the good food is; perhaps I should publish a guide about where it isn’t. Would anybody buy that?

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