My fourth blog post in November, 2011, was titled "You Should Try The Purge". In it I describe the goings-on in one of three pretend restaurants we have at our house. On the menu, besides "The Purge," was an item listed as "hand brger," or Hamburger.
Sometimes what children think they hear makes more sense than what we actually say.
Here is a lovingly rendered Hand Burger:
Looks pretty good doesn't it? When I was a kid we had Hamburgers every Saturday night without fail. In the winter my dad cooked them in the fireplace on a grill specially made for fireplaces, I always thought that was pretty cool.
When the boys were younger I started them out on burgers but they didn't really like them. Of course they were pretty big (I am a famous carnivore), so I split one between the two of them. They would eat a little but they never showed the enthusiasm I think grilled meat on a bun deserves.
Finally, I came upon a solution. I usually (now, with advent of "pink slime," almost exclusively) grind my own meat for my ground beef needs, so I knew the beef was tasty and wholesome. I always had fresh 'fixins,' as we grew up calling the lettuce, tomato and onions. So I realized I really couldn't really make a better product. About the same time, the restaurant I worked at started serving steak sliders, sliced steak on a small bun with sauce and onion. And then, one day in Kroger's, I saw slider buns for sale.
So, I grabbed a pack, scaled down the size of the burgers, served them on those little buns. The "Hand Burger" was born. They loved them. The other night they had two each.
What happened, in my mind, was 'ownership.' Have the kids get involved and they will gobble up what you serve. They had their own burger, dressed it the way they wanted and they really enjoy them.
Oh, and I can have three or four and not feel guilty because they are smaller, right?
From Marci's '...things you don't expect to hear from the backseat...'
Wait, they don't? Well who have I been talking to all these years? Nevermind...
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