I’m surprised to report that I survived the ordeal.
Despite countless other humans making it out of this experience alive over the years, something–maybe having to do with my mom’s penchant for making sure my dad always cooked meat past the point of toughness in order to ensure it wasn’t at all pink inside–has made me the sort of person who gets queasy just looking at an under-cooked burger.
Yet I also hate when the meat is charred on the outside–maybe due to the consistently well-done meat served to me at home–so there’s a very slim area where the meat is done exactly the way I like it.
When in doubt, I usually order medium. Read the rest of this entry »