Researching the Best Burger

In a comment to my last post about our ancestry, Todd questioned why I didn't use my energies for more interesting projects, such as what the "H.R." stood for in H.R. Pufnstuf. Frankly, I'm a bit embarrassed for him. It's one thing to acknowledge that he watched H.R. Pufnstuf. He was young; that's an excuse. But to openly proclaim he still thinks about it? Todd, there are other things to ponder. Give it a try.

But to answer his question, I think I've located the best burger in Portland. It's at a funky French restaurant called Le Pigeon. Premium beef on a grilled french bagette type roll, lettuce, pickled onions, homemade ketchup, some type of French cheese, a hint of horseradish. Frankly, I'm not sure what all was on it, but it was amazing. Just ask Kathryn--it was her birthday dinner, and I couldn't stop explaining how amazing it was. The only problem is that they only prepare five burgers a night. Not sure why, but that's the limit. So when Big D returns, the boys can take him there. Of course there will be six of us--one over the limit--but we'll let Todd get some Captain Crunch off the kiddie menu.