Revision is just human instinct.
At least one suspects the urge to tamper, tinker, perhaps even to improve results from some primal impulse. Without the desire for something different, after all, we would never have covered a perfectly good ceiling with the doodles of Michelangelo, switched from rabbit ears to cable or welcomed the New Coke.
Ah — that nagging word “perhaps.”
You see, we can’t resist meddling, even with a good thing. Guacamole may be revered. Fancy restaurants even prepare it tableside, turning the casual dip into an occasion. Yet that didn’t stop some fool from adding peas to the recipe. Italian chefs crafted pasta into shapes with a purpose, each fashioned to support just the right amount of sauce. They could not, however, prevent Chef Boyardee.
Just look for Spaghetti-Os on a Tuscan menu.
According to culinary lore, nomadic hordes trampling the Russian Steppes sandwiched raw beef under saddles, creating a kind of beef tartare. This eventually became an elegant dish, surrounded by courtiers — egg, capers and so on.
Somewhere in the progression of time, people began to shape and fry the meat. Residents of Hamburg in Germany lent a name and Americans slipped it into a bun, later adding onions, lettuce and tomatoes.
Now chefs treat the hamburger as a canvas, layering on everything from bacon and cheese to onion rings, over easy eggs, fries, even foie gras. But one could argue that with the basic burger, topped by a few honest accoutrements, we reached perfection.
Which brings us to the half pound hamburger at the Cowpoke Cafe in Middletown. Ground from locally raised Angus beef and slapped on a well versed flat top, the patty picks up a crisp and bittersweet patina. This rustic visage speaks of cast iron and crackling flame, but it is just a flicker — sparks of pepper and char over hoarse and swarthy meat.
There is a hewn beauty to this burger. The savor of earth and meadow stand out, unadorned by finery. It relishes the fresh sweetness of tomato and warms the raspy rebuke of onion. Lettuce proves a snap that only enhances the blackened veneer from the grill. And the rich meat welcomes the briney bite of pickle.
This is a reminder of perfection, the very reason the adopted hamburger took on an all-American ardor.
Yeah, it may be true that the classic sandwich resulted from a little embellishment along the way — a little tinkering. But at its peak the hamburger allows good ground beef to prevail over the add ons.
Cowpoke Cafe serves a burger in its peak form.
Dave Faries can be reached at 900-2016
