The Flea

Don't let the fries fool you - this post is about a burger.

So let me first tell you that there was never any one reason for me to define myself as a carnivore - until I ate a flea burger. 

Westport Flea Market is dingy, dark and it doesn't accept debit cards - BUT no one with working tastebuds cares, because it is home of the original Flea Market burger, a succulent, massive beef pattie served on a soft and toasty sesame seed bun. Add cheese, mayo, ketcup, perfectly ripened tomatos, pickles, onions and lettuce...and bacon, and you've got yourself the bible of true carnivorians.

Before I tasted the flea, there was a time when I actually could understand why someone would chose to be a vegetarian - I chalked it up to either having a bleeding heart or a heart condition. But as of late, I'm critical. Like Amish teens who get their year of freedom before deciding to continue with the lifestyle, I believe all vegetarians should taste a flea burger, at least one bite before swearing off all animals.

And for the taste of it, I wouldn't even care if it were made of actual fleas, although I'd prefer not to know it. To describe its taste is to describe a craving - you just want it and once you have it, your mouth can't seem to part with it.

I'm a relatively small girl, I eat PB&Js, quesadillas, frozen pizzas and grilled cheeses - I'm pretty soft-core when it comes to serious protein. And yet I crave it like a cat smelling catnip or a pregnant woman inside the local Baskin Robbins, it is all I can think about until it's mine.

So you might say it wasn't a selfless Father's Day gift then, when I treated him to burgers and beer on Saturday night. The holiday was just an excuse to go really, and what better way to honor the best man in my life then with this grilled perfection.

So we got to talking - what was it about the flea burger that sent me reeling - it was just ground beef, afterall.

"It's the grill Coco," he told me while holding the thing with two elbows squared on the table. "Grills have a mind of their own."

He went on to tell me how Kansas City's most famous steak establishment, Hereford House, failed to open a second location out south - "because they just couldn't replicate the flavor, nothing worked and the people weren't having it."

I still can't believe that for a whole year some local loonies wanted to close the Flea Market and open a Hooters. Oh sure - and while they're at it, why don't they build a McDonald's in place of Oklahoma Joe's - because that would be a vast improvement.

Oh but truly, I'm so full. I'm writing this now with my feet up on my coffee table and my laptop on my "contented" stomach, my typing is gradually slowing to a crawl and my eyes are drooping a bit - and I can still taste it - the burger that gave me wings and made me slightly vegetarian intolerant - the flea.