Thyme After Time: In Search of Captain Frankenburger

The Re-Creation of a Childhood Burger Memory

"It's Alive!!!"

I have brought a memory from my childhood to life!!!!

My sister and I spent most of our weekends in the summer at my grandparents house. Every weekend was like a mini-vacation. We would go to see the Amish. We would go to Geauga Lake. We would go anywhere and everywhere with my grandparents.

Then there was my uncle. He lived with my grandparents. There were weekends he took over the care of us and all of a sudden our manners and our having to act like little ladies would go straight out the window. We could run as fast as we wanted. We could roll around in the grass. There was always a new place to explore. There were new stories for him to tell us; new adventures to be had.

We spent time at the airport, watching planes take off to exotic locations. Once a pilot even brought us into the cockpit to show us around. Unfortunately, it's something that probably would be unheard of today. (Unless one was a ticketed passenger) We explored the mall. We explored the park. There were times we just walked. We walked for miles and took turns telling stories. It was a wonderful childhood. Some of the most special memories were those of going Downtown. As a child, I thought Downtown was the name of it's own place. It was only a few years later that I learned every big city had a downtown.

On nice days, we would take The Rapid (an above ground subway or like the Chicago L) and end up at The Terminal Tower. We would walk all the way down to East 9 Street Pier, always stopping at random places along the way; The giant Downtown library, The Arcade, St John's Cathedral. I always loved lighting the candles there. Each candle sent a prayer to God and although I had a lot to ask for, we were limited to only lighting one or two.

If we happened to be at The Cathedral, the pier was only a couple blocks away. It's where one could hop on The Goodtime, a tour boat that would take you around Lake Erie and the mouth of the Cuyahoga River. But if Uncle didn't happen to be in the mood for The Goodtime, we would walk around to the end of the pier. For probably long before I was born a restaurant stood at the end of the pier, Captain Franks Seafood. I was very good at being a child and followed The Children's Rulebook about food often. I was picky. That's what the rulebook stated. Children should be very suspicious of food unless it was a burger, macaroni and cheese, pizza or chocolate. Even then, approved foods were not always created the same. There were some places that a burger just wasn't made for kids.

Then, there was this one burger that has followed me from my childhood into my adulthood, haunting my memories. It just so happens to be the best childhood burger I have ever eaten!

So, back to Captain Franks on East Ninth. My uncle, my sister and I would make our way to the back of the building. We never went inside. It smelled strongly of the sea and as a child, I had an aversion to anything that didn't walk on land or fly in the sky. Set up behind Captain Franks, facing the end of the pier and the beginning of Lake Erie was a little tiny burger joint. The cook was a big man with a heavily stained t-shirt that was once white. It's been so long now, but he may have even been sporting a matching apron, all stained and greasy and sweaty. Those were hot summer days made even hotter by the heat from the grill. He was good at what he did, but he was certainly not a pretty sight. Some say the salty brininess in the burger came from the cooks' own sweat and hard work. Whatever it was, however it came to be, it was heaven in a bun and the sweaty cook was the angel that delivered it.

One bite into the burger and I was sold. It was thin. It was juicy. The bun wasn't toasted. The soft bun soaked up the juices from the burger. It had a salty, briny-ness to it. It tasted almost like the burger took a quick dip into Captain Frank's sea water before hopping onto the grill. Sometimes I had cheese, other times, just plain. It takes a very special burger to be able to eat it plain, nothing but meat and bread, but if it's good, it doesn't need anything else.

This was one of those burgers.

Below is my humble re-creation.

It comes very close to my memories, taking me back to the pier.

We would sit there, feet dangling on a fenceless pier; watching the water, eating our burgers and hearing stories of lost mermaids in Lake Erie.

Today I turned on the grill, made the burgers and dreamt of mermaids, Captain Franks and the old East Ninth Street Pier. Captain Franks is no more. It has been replaced by The Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. I also can't say I've ever come across a mermaid in Lake Erie or anywhere else for that matter. (Except this one time, at a carnival, but that's another story..)

But I have resurrected my own version of The Captain Frankenburger and it is good!

Captain Frankenburger

makes 8 thin burgers or 4 double burgers

1 1/2 lb 80/20 Ground Chuck

1 pkg soft white hamburger buns

salt/pepper

1 Cup warm water

1 heaping tsp kosher salt

1/8 tsp sugar

a spray bottle

wax paper

a 4 1/2" lid (from the deli)

American Cheese slices

Ketchup, Mustard, Pickles

Divide the meat in half and then in half again, then half those, ending up with eight even pieces...pictured above.

To your cup of warm water, add the kosher salt and the sugar.

Stir until dissolved.

Transfer the "brine" to a spray bottle.

Lightly salt and pepper the meat.

Lightly roll each of the 8 sections into a balls, trying not over work the meat.

Cut 16 pieces of wax paper, each piece about 6" x 6" (or close)

It doesn't have to be exact.

The wax paper makes it easy to spread the meat out and to transfer the burger to the grill.

Place each meat ball in between 2 pieces of wax paper.

Use the lid to press down, the "top" of it facing down so it helps form a perfect circle.

Do the same with all other 7 burgers.

You are now ready for the grill. This is where my husband and my memories of the burger slightly part ways. I make mine on the grill. He remembers them being on the flat top. (To be honest, I secretly think he's right.)