{"id":181275,"date":"2024-03-14T11:52:49","date_gmt":"2024-03-14T16:52:49","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.artofmanliness.com\/?p=181275"},"modified":"2024-03-14T14:55:27","modified_gmt":"2024-03-14T19:55:27","slug":"grandaddys-sunday-dinner-bacon-pepper-burgers","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/beta.artofmanliness.com\/leisure\/food-drink\/grandaddys-sunday-dinner-bacon-pepper-burgers\/","title":{"rendered":"Grandaddy’s Sunday Dinner Bacon Pepper Burgers"},"content":{"rendered":"

\"A<\/p>\n

Note: The following is an excerpt adapted from <\/em>Love Language of the South: A Celebration of the Food, the Hospitality, and the Stories of My Southern Home<\/span><\/a> <\/span>by Stacy Lyn Harris. <\/span><\/em><\/p>\n

I don\u2019t remember when it started. I don\u2019t remember when it ended. I just remember that for years during most of my childhood, we\u2019d eat Sunday dinner at Grandaddy\u2019s house. Everyone was there: my immediate family, my uncle, and the cousins. I\u2019d get an adrenaline rush as soon as we turned the corner in my stepdad\u2019s red Toyota 4Runner. As soon as the car pulled up on the curb (we parked on the curb, so the driveway was clear for the others), I\u2019d race over to one of my favorite spots on earth\u2014the landing strip of lush green grass between my grandad\u2019s house and the neighbors. To me it was the most empowering green gymnastics mat. <\/span><\/p>\n

As my parents walked in the door, I began my tumbling pass with the imagined onlookers as my audience. Over and over again I\u2019d tumble with the utmost precision: roundoff, back handspring, back handspring, back layout, back handspring. I felt invincible! \u201cStacy, it\u2019s time to eat,\u201d my mom would call out the door, bringing me back to reality. I\u2019d run inside through the kitchen, head straight for the blue swivel chair at the end of the den, jump in the chair, and spin until I couldn\u2019t see straight. About the time the world stopped spinning, I\u2019d see my grandfather pulling the most amazing burgers off the grill. <\/span><\/p>\n

The second he\u2019d enter the door, I\u2019d make a beeline to him and throw my arms around him, almost knocking his town-famous peppered burgers to the floor. Grandaddy wasn\u2019t super affectionate and was kind of quiet, like my dad. He was half-blooded Creek Indian and half Greek. His olive skin had been darkened and wrinkled by the sun, and he never tired of telling me, \u201cStay out of the sun, Stacy. You don\u2019t want to end up looking like this.\u201d Maybe it was because I loved him so much, I thought he was good-looking. I don\u2019t remember him telling me that he loved me, but I do remember him telling me that I look exactly like his mother. I felt that meant something special to him, and that in turn made me feel special. <\/span><\/p>\n

We\u2019d all overfill our plates with simple but delicious food: hamburgers, French fries, fried pickles, and fried green tomatoes. The adults and kids would squeeze around the kitchen table to discuss my grandad\u2019s favorite topic: politics. Yes, politics was the topic of our discussions almost every week, which made for exciting conversation\u2014mainly because no one agreed! The only thing that could get Grandaddy off the topic of politics was dessert. <\/span><\/p>\n

Historically significant Southern desserts were always served at his house: banana pudding, coconut cream pie, ambrosia, lane cake, coconut cake, key lime pie, pineapple upside-down cake, caramel cake\u2014and let me tell you, the caramel cake was the real deal! The desserts were never ending, nor did I want them to be. <\/span><\/p>\n

After dinner I would often play hide-and-go-seek with my cousins. My favorite hiding spot was way up in the top of an oak tree. I could sit up there and dream for days, until I\u2019d hear \u201cStacy, get out of that tree, there\u2019s heat lightning.\u201d Just about every Sunday there was heat lightning, and then a summer shower would move in, drawing me back indoors. Summer Sunday showers were our cue that the weekend was over and it was time to go, but I knew I\u2019d be back next Sunday.<\/span><\/p>\n

Those weekends have never really been over for me. When I smell a burger cooking, or I run my fingers along a rough wool fabric, I\u2019m back on that swivel chair at Grandaddy\u2019s house waiting for him to finish my burger and feeling lucky to be by his side.<\/span><\/p>\n

Ultimate Bacon Pepper Burgers With Cheddar and Remoulade<\/span><\/h2>\n

Serves 9<\/em><\/p>\n

Ingredients<\/h2>\n

For the Burgers<\/strong><\/p>\n