Sorry that I deserted you all. This summer has been particularly busy for some reason. Either that or I've been exceptionally lazy. That is probably the more likely answer.
And so since it's been very busy (because of course that option sounds much better), you'd think I have a lot to write about, right?
Not really.
But something did happen last night. My husband's turkey burger exploded.
Let me explain.
I decided to try a new recipe last night. It was called Mozzarella-Stuffed Italian Turkey Burgers. Essentially, you take some ground turkey, add stuff to it, and then form 8 very thin patties. Then you take four of the patties and lay a slice of mozzarella cheese on it. Then you take the other patty and "seal" it so that the mozzarella cheese doesn't leak out. Broil or grill them and enjoy, right?
So I follow the directions and make the burgers, and I must say, by the time they were broiling in the oven, I was quite pleased with myself. Because they were smelling pretty darn tasty. And Jamey gets home from work and, as he's changing, he asks what is for dinner. I tell him, and then have to explain why it's not ready because these burgers take a little longer to prepare and blah blah blah.
I finally finish up the rest of dinner, and I get his burger onto a bun (I ate mine sans bun), and set it on the table.
I turn to finish getting my plate together and I hear. . .
Well I won't say what I heard. Because let's face it. It wasn't very pretty.
And I turn around, and Jamey is wiping at his face and his arm and his shirt, and I was like "What's WRONG?"
And I look on his plate, and it looked like the burger had an accident of some sort.
And so he's all yelling, like, "THE BURGER EXPLODED!"
And I don't want to be outdone in the yelling department, so I'm all like, "WHAT?!?!?!"
And he yells louder, "THE BURGER EXPLODED AND I GOT TURKEY JUICE ALL OVER ME AND IT'S HOT AS (you know what) AND IT HURT!!!!!"
(I decide at this point that it would be in my best interest not to yell back anymore.) I put on my sweet, concerned voice and say, "Are you OK?"
And he looks at me, and says, "This meal is NOT off to a good start."
Like it's my fault. Really?
How the heck was I supposed to know that a turkey burger stuffed with cheese would explode when you took the first bite? Besides, mine didn't. Of course, that's because I was eating it with no bun, and cut into it VERY carefully after seeing the carnage on Jamey's plate.
So your lesson of the day is: If someone else made you a burger, always ask if the burgers are stuffed with cheese. Because if they are, they might explode.
Aren't you glad you know that now?
Happy day folks!
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