The Good Old Days

Some of you may or may not know that I attended Rutgers, comma, the State University of New Jersey. In fact, some of you may or may not have met me at said State University. But for you painfully outnumbered folk that are not aware of this, let it be known that, in fact, I went to Rutgers.

How is this relevant, you ask? Well. I'll get to that in a second.

This last weekend, I participated in a barbecue. The food supply was of epic proportions - piles of spinach pie, eggplant pasta, burgers with pimento cheese, pulled pork of two divinations, chicken as far as the eye could see, and a mass of shrimp that I will have nightmares about for the years to come. In fact, I'm going to have kids just so I can tell them about this shrimp, and pass the nightmare on to the next generation.

And while the food supply was everything The Departed was (rich in content, character driven, and masterfully executed), the demand side of things turned out more like the Sex and the City Movie (overly gabby and anorexic in behavior). Aah, I don't really mean that. But seriously, people just weren't in the eating and drinking mood. The end result was that we got ourselves a serious haul in leftovers. Today, we'll be focusing on these here Portuguese rolls:


And this honkin' pile of burgers.


I mean, sure, I could have just sat down with this, made myself a burger or two, and have done with it, but where's the fun in that? This, folks, is where Rutgers comes into the story.

Fact is, I've been ruminating lately on how much I miss the old grease trucks. Never mind that I gained 50 pounds in my freshman year by making the Fat Darrell most of my dietary intake; those greaseball sandwiches were fantastic. So while I had the means before me, I was determined to recreate the one that started it all - the Fat Cat.

The process began simply enough, I reformed the patties to fit the rolls. An easy procedure.


While they grilled, I scooped out the rolls themselves, toasted them, and anointed them with the prerequisite mayo and ketchup.


Mine, of course, has been augmented by healthy splashes of cheepohtleay.

And what would a good burger be without fries?


Not with your burger. Oh, no, there's a lazier option to be had. This is a college student sandwich - you can never have something just on the side. No, the Fat Cat is your good old cheeseburger on a long roll, lettuce, tomato, and fries stuffed into it. You know, so you don't have to worry about alternating what you put in your mouth. That's too complicated for college students.


Construction was a little hairy, but the finished product... oh, those grinning Lebanese bastards would be proud.


Look at it. It looks like it wants to kiss you.

And so we feasted on Fat Cats, and as my delicate flower of a ladyfriend doubled over in pain from the thunderous influx of grease, I smiled contentedly. "In your face, darling," I said as I took another bite. "In your face."

My work here was done.