Hamburger Steak and Gravy

October is coming and I can feel it the way you feel a season change in your bones, in the temperature that drops ten degrees overnight, in the light that goes golden and slanted, in the corn drying in the fields along I-80 like old paper curling at the edges. I drove through harvest country this week and the combines were out, enormous and relentless, eating the corn row by row, and the dust behind them rose like smoke and the stubble fields looked naked and exposed, stripped of everything they had grown.

Larry came for Sunday dinner. He came because I asked and because Gayle asked and because when two Novak women ask a thing, the thing gets done. He looked thin. He looked tired. His hands trembled around his fork in a way I could not pretend I did not see. But he ate. He ate pot roast and mashed potatoes and two rolls and a piece of cake, and the eating was an act of love directed at me and Gayle, because he knew we were watching and he knew what the watching meant, and he ate to reassure us the way I cook to reassure him. The food goes both ways. The love goes both ways.

After dinner, Larry and I sat on the porch. The kids were inside. Dave was doing dishes. Gayle had gone home. Larry said the leaves are turning. I said they are. He said October already. I said October. He said the year goes fast. I said it does. He was quiet for a while and then he said, kid, when was the last time you made cornbread and crumbled it into buttermilk? I said I cannot remember. He said you should do that sometime. I said I will. He said do it tomorrow. I said okay. He smiled. It was a tired smile but it was real, and the real was everything.

I made the cornbread the next morning at five a.m. before my haul. I crumbled it into a bowl of buttermilk and ate it standing at the counter in the dark kitchen, and it tasted like the inside of a truck cab and my childhood and watching my father eat this same thing at four a.m. before a run, and I cried into the buttermilk, which did not improve the flavor but did improve me. Sometimes you need to cry into something to feel better. Buttermilk and cornbread will hold it. They always have.

Larry ate two helpings that Sunday, and I watched every bite the way you watch someone you love when you are afraid. The pot roast was gone by the time Dave cleared the table, and I have been thinking ever since about the kind of meal that asks nothing of a person except that they sit down and eat—something with gravy, something that fills a plate the way a hand fills a hand. This hamburger steak is that meal: simple and unpretentious, made with things you already have, the kind of supper my dad would have recognized and Larry would have cleaned his plate of without a word, which is the highest praise either of them ever gave.

Prep Time: 15 minutes | Cook Time: 30 minutes | Total Time: 45 minutes | Servings: 4

Ingredients

1 1/2 lbs ground beef (80/20)
1/3 cup plain breadcrumbs
1 egg, lightly beaten
1 teaspoon Worcestershire sauce
1/2 teaspoon garlic powder
1/2 teaspoon onion powder
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/4 teaspoon black pepper
1 tablespoon vegetable oil
1 medium yellow onion, thinly sliced
8 oz cremini mushrooms, sliced (optional)
2 tablespoons butter
2 tablespoons all-purpose flour
2 cups beef broth
1 teaspoon Worcestershire sauce (for gravy)
Salt and pepper to taste

Instructions

Mix the patties. In a large bowl, combine ground beef, breadcrumbs, egg, Worcestershire sauce, garlic powder, onion powder, salt, and pepper. Mix gently until just combined—do not overwork the meat. Shape into 4 oval patties about 3/4 inch thick.
Sear the patties. Heat vegetable oil in a large skillet over medium-high heat. Add the patties and cook 4–5 minutes per side until browned and cooked through. Transfer to a plate and tent loosely with foil.
Cook the onions. Reduce heat to medium. Add butter and sliced onions (and mushrooms, if using) to the same skillet. Cook, stirring occasionally, for 8–10 minutes until the onions are soft and golden, scraping up any browned bits from the bottom of the pan.
Make the gravy. Sprinkle flour over the onions and stir to coat. Cook for 1 minute. Gradually whisk in the beef broth, then add Worcestershire sauce. Bring to a simmer, whisking constantly, and cook 4–5 minutes until the gravy thickens to your liking. Season with salt and pepper.
Finish and serve. Return the hamburger steaks to the skillet, nestling them into the gravy. Simmer on low for 5 minutes to warm through and let the flavors meld. Serve over mashed potatoes or egg noodles with gravy spooned generously over the top.

Nutrition (per serving)

Hamburger Steak and Gravy — The Sunday Table That Says Everything Without Words