It’s kinda like pizza; even when it’s bad, well, it’s pizza. So, yeah, in that spirit, I devoured the way overcooked burger, and I didn’t mind it too much.

The funny thing was the server looked at me and almost laughed when I attempted to specify my temperature. I tried “medium well,” because I’m a medium person in reality but often err on the side of caution based on past experiences.

Well, this brew pub in the Phoenix airport on a layover wasn’t having it. They were erring on the far side of caution, and I can’t fault them for the conservative approach. Although it wasn’t the best burger I’ve had, by a long shot, it tasted pretty good and I’m highly unlikely to get sick.

A couple questions now for you ground beef manufacturers: To what extent do you advise your foodservice customers on safe preparation of the product? And how do you factor in a quality eating experience and balance that with safety?

No doubt that food poisoning can come back to bite the processor, as ample litigation has borne out. But it’s a supply chain that must work with each link, and the accountability must be shared.

Again, I can’t fault this brew pub for all but eliminating the risk, but I’ve learned from personal experience and from experiences shared by friends that, in other cases, there is not only a lack of accountability but also a lack of education about the safety of food.

From my own experience: A server at a “better burger” restaurant plainly told our party the chef wouldn’t cook a burger past “medium rare” because it “tastes best this way” and they “don’t have E. coli” because of the quality of their ground beef. A friend ‘s experience: After she and her friends were all vomiting after eating chicken at a neighborhood restaurant, they called the restaurant to caution them (when they could potentially be suing them, instead). The restaurant management said there was “no way” they got sick from their food.

My education in food safety started when I was 15. On travel to St. Louis with my soccer team, we ate dinner at an Italian place. The next afternoon, almost in an instant, I felt a sickness hit like never before, and my body spent the remainder of that day and the next expelling the pathogen. My dad was sick too, although mostly just drained of energy.

Thankfully, we made it home alive, despite repeated stops and sometimes swerving damn near off the road. We got antibiotics and slept it off. My dad really slept it off — almost 24 hours straight. I lost 15 pounds in a three-day span. A teammate, we would learn, got home and passed out in his bathroom, knocking his head on the toilet on the way down.

You’ll be relieved to know that we eventually learned the culprit was a type of cheese — not meat — that the Italian restaurant was serving. I recall my dad saying that they said it was salmonella.

It’s amazing to me what a microscopic bug can do. It’s also amazing to me that some of those responsible for serving food don’t understand that.

In the absence of a full supply-chain consciousness, I’ll take my burger the way this brew pub served it: unapologetically overcooked.

Cook the s*** out of my burger — if you must

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