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Grilled Italian Burgers — When the Rotation Deserves a Little Something Extra

School started back Monday. The classroom always looks smaller after two weeks away — like the desks have shrunk, the bulletin boards faded a shade. My students walked in like they'd never left, which is one of the better things about working with the kids I work with: they don't do much performative reentry. Marcus went straight to the reading corner. Aaliyah hugged me twice. Devonte asked if I had a new haircut. I did not have a new haircut.

Ryan worked New Year's Eve. I had the twins by myself, in pajamas, asleep on the couch by nine. I watched the ball drop muted on the TV with a glass of cheap prosecco and texted my sister Happy New Year at 12:01 and she texted back at 12:04 with a photo of a rooftop in Brooklyn that I will never see in person. That's fine. I have my own rooftop — it's linoleum and it's in Oak Lawn and it has two sleeping toddlers on it.

For dinner this week I went back to the rotation: Monday slow cooker chicken thighs over rice, Tuesday tacos with the cheap ground beef and the shredded cheese from the bulk bag, Wednesday a sheet pan of sausage and potatoes and peppers because Ryan was home and that's a meal he'll eat without complaining, Thursday leftovers, Friday pizza from the freezer because by Friday I am a corpse with a teaching license. The blog post this week was about Tuesday tacos: the cheap version, the one where the meat is mostly meat and the toppings are whatever sad thing is in your fridge. Forty-seven comments by Sunday. People love permission to make sad tacos.

Mom called at 7:15 every morning, as established by treaty in 2019. She wanted to know about the twins, about my classroom, about whether I had taken down the Christmas tree yet. I have not taken down the Christmas tree yet. I will take it down on Sunday. I always do. She knows. She still asks.

Forty-seven comments on the sad taco post, and half of them were people asking for a little more — not a lot more, just enough to feel like you tried. That’s what these Grilled Italian Burgers are for me: same cheap ground beef from the same bulk bag, but with enough Italian seasoning and parmesan pressed in that it feels like a choice instead of a default. Ryan ate two. The twins ate the buns and the cheese and called it dinner, which honestly, same.

Grilled Italian Burgers

Prep Time: 10 min | Cook Time: 12 min | Total Time: 22 min | Servings: 4

Ingredients

  • 1 1/4 lbs ground beef (80/20)
  • 1/4 cup grated parmesan cheese
  • 1 teaspoon Italian seasoning
  • 1/2 teaspoon garlic powder
  • 1/2 teaspoon onion powder
  • 1/2 teaspoon salt
  • 1/4 teaspoon black pepper
  • 4 slices provolone or mozzarella cheese
  • 4 burger buns, toasted if desired
  • 1/2 cup jarred roasted red peppers, drained and sliced
  • 1/4 cup mayonnaise
  • 1 teaspoon red wine vinegar

Instructions

  1. Mix the patties. In a large bowl, combine ground beef, parmesan, Italian seasoning, garlic powder, onion powder, salt, and pepper. Mix gently with your hands until just combined — do not overwork the meat. Divide into 4 equal patties, pressing a slight indent in the center of each to prevent puffing.
  2. Make the aioli. In a small bowl, stir together mayonnaise and red wine vinegar. Set aside.
  3. Grill the burgers. Heat a grill or grill pan over medium-high heat. Cook patties 5–6 minutes per side for medium doneness, or until internal temperature reaches 160°F. In the last minute of cooking, lay a slice of provolone on each patty and cover briefly to melt.
  4. Assemble. Spread the red wine aioli on the cut sides of each bun. Place a patty on each bottom bun and top with roasted red pepper slices. Add the top bun and serve immediately.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 520 | Protein: 34g | Fat: 28g | Carbs: 30g | Fiber: 1g | Sodium: 740mg

Amanda Kowalczyk
About the cook who shared this
Amanda Kowalczyk
Week 511 of Amanda’s 30-year story · Chicago, Illinois
Amanda is a special ed teacher in Chicago, a mom of three-year-old twins, and a woman who lost her best friend to a fentanyl overdose at twenty-one. She cooks on a budget that would make a Whole Foods cashier weep — feeding a family of four for under seventy-five dollars a week — because she believes good food doesn't require a fancy kitchen or a fancy paycheck. She finished Babcia Rose's gołąbki after the funeral because that's what Babcia would have wanted. That's who Amanda is.

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