Disclaimer: Picture lifted blatantly off internet. Not my own artwork. |
20 minutes later at the dinner table, R set out plates and cutlery. CUTLERY! She's English, need I say more? There was no way I was going to sully my hands with a fork - I wanted the full burger experience. So, after a bit of instruction from K (who had instead opted for a very healthy salad from her mum's fridge) on how to hold the thing, I was away. I hadn't realized I was meant to pick up a "doofer" - something else K needed to explain to me. But it's alright, she's a science teacher so is very good at explaining things to quirky middle-aged women with no clue what a doofer is. Oooh, that gluten free bun felt so RIGHT in my hands, even without a doofer.
OMG Burgers are AMAZING! As I worked my way through to the middle, all the ingredients joined hands and had a party in my mouth. I tasted the egg, the beetroot, the tomato...all at the same time!!! I was unable to hold any form of conversation as my eyes rolled back in my head and I fell deeper and deeper in love. It became so intense that I serenaded my food:
I think that I shall never see
A food as wonderful as thee
Your shape that fits to curve my hand
So....ummm....so...can't think of something to rhyme with "hand"...
Seriously, if it was legal to marry a gluten free hamburger, I'd do it! Not sure if Beloved would approve though.
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