When I decided to start
writing about the elk burger, one really important question came to mind:
What the fuck is an
(This is a fucking elk.)
A distant cousin of the
moose, elk is one of the largest species in the deer family and native to North
America and Asia. Its conservation status is “least concern,” so I had no
qualms about eating this…thing. So the
next question becomes:
Where the fuck do I get an elk burger in Miami?
Went to Publix, nothing.
Trader Joe’s, same. Not rich enough for Whole Foods. Not gross enough for
Winn-Dixie. Not enough free time to find
a butcher. So, like a true social media
savvy Millennial. I turn to yelp.
Shockingly (or, unshockingly) not a lot of burger joints have elk
on the menu. But, my saving grace is Fuddrucker’s, a cool 5
miles from my apartment.
Sidebar about Fuddrucker’s: my parents used to take my
brother and I there when we were kids, and we loved it. There used to be car shows on Saturday
nights, and when walking on the sidewalk to get to the restaurant, my dad would
pretend that we were in the jungle, and hide in the bushes to pretend that he
was a wild animal. Plus, my parents let
me go and get a free kid cookie by myself, which, when you have helicopter
parents, is pretty awesome.
Back to the elk.
So I walk in, order my elk. The cashier asks what kind of cheese I want. “oh fuck,” I thought, “I forgot to google what cheese goes with elk” (turns out, many). I go with provolone, because, why not. I order medium because while I’m not a pansy for well-done, I’d prefer to not look like this when eating a burger:
After 15 minutes, I get my burger. And it looks like…a burger. I’m not sure if I was expecting antlers, but it looks like beef. I try it.
It tastes like a burger mixed in with some venison. The inside is gray. It’s a bit bland. If I wrote more about my meal this post would turn into a Sylvia Plath piece. I leave, disappointed.