Veggie Burgers: The Craft is the Process
There was a time when there were two camps: the cardboard-wrapped frozen pucks from brands like Boca, and the house-made bean and grain burgers. The latter was always near and dear to my heart. Even the most meat-headed chefs would occasionally craft their own veggie patties, combining vegetables, legumes, grains, nuts, seeds, and spices into something familiar, but uniquely their own.
There was a third camp I almost forgot about. That's probably because I wanted to. The portobello mushroom sandwich. Cleveland's "burger guy" once had one on his menu titled Why?? It came with your choice of cheese and a "free of charge" addition of bacon. It was a rough time to eat out as a vegetarian, let alone a vegan. The name Why?? suggested it wasn't even worthy of menu space, let alone eating. The chef behind that portobello cap came from the world of cooks who talked a lot of trash about meatless meals to compensate for their inability to make one that wasn't trash. Still, as low as that bar was, it was somehow more creative than what came next.
The restaurants serving marinated portobello caps from the '70s found something even easier. Impossible and Beyond arrived, marketed as the future of meat. Overnight, chefs who once had to create a veggie burger suddenly had one they could unwrap and throw on the grill. The portobello disappeared, but so did handcrafted veggie burgers. Along with the Boca burger went the bean patties, beet burgers, and all the weird little house recipes that reflected the people making them. We didn't literally throw the baby out with the bathwater, but the phrase feels appropriate. Big capital reinvented the veggie burger and, as it often does, left everything more shit as a result.
I'm not inherently anti-meat alternative. They have their place as transitional products. It takes time to wean a baby off a teat, just as it takes time to wean a Yankee raised on the Standard American Diet off meat.
What I never understood was why so many chefs abandoned their own creativity in the process. The Why?? crowd probably never cared for their veg-forward dishes to begin with, which is a fairly strong argument against eating at an "options" restaurant. You don't go to a Chinese buffet for great pizza. Similarly, if you want a great veggie burger, you should probably visit an old-school vegan chef. But I digress...
What about everyone else? I get that labor costs have soared. A cocktail of rising prices and generations of people striving for passive income hasn't helped a craft largely dependent on artistic integrity and hard work. But still, what happened to a chef's pride? This isn't a vegan chef bashing omni-chefs. I also find it heartbreaking that so many vegan restaurants now slap frozen, stock-market-made burgers onto their grills and griddles. Even an old-school, "I'm new to this whole vee-gan thing" mushy, cliché Southwestern black bean patty is worth appreciating because it's indicative of someone's progress. You're experiencing a stage toward something better. A better veggie burger. A better chef. And, dare I say, a better person.
The Greeks had a word for this: technē. More than a craft, it was the disciplined practice of making something well. The product mattered, but the product wasn't the point. The craft existed in the constant refinement of the maker.
In that ancient Greek kind of way, the process isn't over until you are. It's like Gordon Ramsay pushing out a cauliflower "steak" a decade after the vegan chefs he ridiculed. He's behind the times but, and this is important, he's moving forward.
More than a decade ago, I debuted a traditional beet burger loaded with lettuce, tomato, mayo, seasoned avocado spread, coconut bacon, and a seasoning blend I lovingly call "stuff I like." It won people over and found its way onto menu after menu. It's not trying to imitate beef. It's just packed with flavor because it's allowed to be its own thing. The lettuce adds crunch, the coconut bacon brings smoke, the avocado adds richness, and the tomatoes and green onions are there because... they taste good. That's reason enough.
That sandwich stopped selling when Beyond and Impossible took hold, but as those trends have died down, my old-school beet burger is making a comeback as a frequently requested special. I've thought about reworking that recipe over the years, but people keep coming back for the original. Those are my people, so I leave it alone. I believe my changing menu speaks to my own growth as a chef, but I also value where I came from.
I don't seek out burgers very often. They're not my scene. But when I find a restaurant making a house veggie burger, I enjoy what it says about the chef behind the menu. It's a barometer. The way a Boca burger or lonely portobello cap once signaled a vegetarian afterthought, today's equivalent is the Beyond or Impossible patty dropped onto a menu to check a box. Sure, you can dress it up with pickled onions, vegan cheese, and a special sauce, but underneath it's still the same burger Burger King or Carl's Jr. is serving.
If you're a chef or home cook, work from scratch. Experiment. Fail. Maybe your veggie patty falls apart after the first bite (you need a better binder, hello gluten). So what? Make another one.
THE CRAFT IS THE PROCESS.
If you're just trying to move calories or collect a paycheck, by all means take the easy way out. But if you care, if you actually love this craft, be a better burger bro.