Weeknight Dinner: Green Chile Cheeseburger

photo: Eric Diesel
Growing up just off of Route 66 had its advantages, not the least of which was a wonderful education in food. From the Chicago deep dish with which the Mother Road starts her journey to the frozen custard at the Arizona end of the drive, a trip down Route 66 is a lesson in American regional cooking. One of my favorite cookbooks is Marian Clark's Route 66 Cookbook, in which she writes about this journey as seen from every kind of table from swanky hotspot to backcountry shack, from drive-in to greasy spoon. And shares the recipes.

Of course, the centerpiece of this trip is the great American diner. Though there's currently a vogue to view diners through the lens of kitsch, they did not seem like relics at the time. Then as now, the diner played a vital role in the community, as a place where people gathered for good food, hot coffee and discussion. The diner met, and meets, no less important a need than sharing the simple pleasures of companionship and food.

One thing you could always count on was that, whatever the regional specialty was, its ultimate expression outside of private kitchens could be found at the locus where local diner met highway traffic. Local ingredients plus local culture becomes regional cooking, and folks thereabouts like to show off their treasures. This became evident to me when I moved north to go to college, where I first encountered pepper slaw, shoo-fly pie, and spiced apple rings on the Pennsylvania roadside -- and, eventually, egg creams and souvlaki in New York City coffee shops.

Back at the Oklahoma border, every spot with a fry cook served its food with a Southwestern twist. Western omelets were towering creations alive with cheese, peppers, onions and at least two kinds of chiles. Your toast likely arrived with two choices of jelly made from local crops: apple or jalapeno. Steaks, for those fancy enough to order them, were rubbed with coffee and cayenne before being grilled. Even the wide, flat, soft chocolate cookies under the dome on the counter were spiked with a hit of chile.

photo: Eric Diesel
And for the centerpiece of any diner's menu -- the cheeseburger -- every one offered its version of the green chile cheeseburger. While the green chile cheeseburger is properly credited to New Mexico, at the time, if asked, I would have assumed everyone knew about this true regional classic. It was so common where I grew up that they even served them in the food kiosks in the mall. But -- again with that move north twenty-five years ago -- I learned otherwise. And so, to their delight, have the people I've cooked for, if they happened not to grow up in the southwest.

For a green chile cheeseburger, a mixture of green chiles, onions and garlic is mixed into ground beef before grilling. The chile mixture is then heaped atop the grilled burger and buried under a blanket of white American cheese. Properly, the green chiles in this burger are Hatch chiles from Hatch, NM. These are available online and, if you've the patience to await your shipment, will guarantee you the most authentic green chile burger. You can achieve a good substitute with the right combination of supermarket chiles -- smoky and sweet poblanos, hot and smooth Anaheims, and direct-hit jalapenos. The paste for my version of this burger has a hint of cilantro, which purists might decry but adds a nice zing; omit it if you prefer.

Serve your green chile cheeseburger on a toasted roll with a bit of char on the edges and mayo (if you must), a tall stack of fries and a cold cerveza crowned with a lime wedge. If you've never had a green chile cheeseburger it will be a great change for burger night at home, and if you have, maybe it will cause you to holler yippie-ki-ay!

Green Chili Cheeseburgers

This recipe makes two burgers; it can be doubled. Buy your cheese at a deli and get two hard rolls while you're at it. You can make the chile mixture in a food processor; I use a handheld blender.

One pound lean ground beef

4 large or 6 medium Hatch chiles or 2 poblano chiles, 2 Anaheim chiles and 2 jalapeno chiles

1 small onion

2 medium cloves garlic

6 slices American cheese

2 hamburger rolls

Freshly ground black pepper

1. Rinse the cilantro (you will only be using the leaf end) and set aside to drain on a double layer of paper toweling.

2. Working over a mixing bowl, pull the ground beef apart. Pre-heat a grill pan over medium heat and pre-heat oven at 200 degrees.

3. Wearing a clean pair of food-safe gloves, chop the stem end off of each chile and then slice each in half lengthwise. Remove the pith and seeds and flatten each half. Set a heat safe medium bowl beside the stovetop.

4. Spear a flattened chile with a metal skewer or fork. Turn a burner to medium-high heat and hold the chile over the flame until the chile is soft and fragrant, about one minute per side. It is okay if the skin chars. Once each chile is roasted, place in the bowl.

5. Once all of the chiles are roasted, cover the bowl with plastic wrap.

6. Remove the stem and root ends of the onions and chop to equal about 1 cup.

7. Chop the leaf ends of the cilantro to equal about 1/4 cup packed tightly. Peel garlic.

8. Add onions, cilantro and garlic to the chiles and process until they form a fragrant, minced mixture (see photo, top of post).

9. Split buns and place in oven to warm.

10. Measure out 1/3 cup green chile mixture. Mix into ground beef. Form beef into two patties. Season each patty with salt and freshly ground black pepper.

11. Grill each burger to desired degree of doneness; approximately seven minutes bottom side followed by five minutes top side for medium well. Resist the urge to press on the burger as it's grilling as this releases the juices.

12. A minute or so before serving, spoon about 1/3 cup green chile mixture on top of each burger. Top each with three slices American cheese.

13. Slide each burger onto toasted bun and serve.

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