For some inexplicable reason, my husband, Clif, and I have been latecomers to bean burgers. Who knows why? Even good eaters get stuck in a rut, and I think that’s where we were when our evening meals revolved around meat. Now that we are mostly vegetarian, our evening meals are centered on vegetables and legumes, and it has forced us to branch out with our eating. This has been a very good thing, and one of the ways we have branched out is with the various bean burgers. While we might have been slow to add them to our food repertoire, we are now making up for lost time. Clif and I have become bean burger enthusiasts, and they have become a regular part of our diet.

A challenge for me, as it is with many recipes, has been to substitute garlic for onion and add other flavorings so that the burger is not boring. (In a recent post, I wrote about the problems my digestive system has with onions and my quest to find flavorful alternatives.) Last night, instead of using a can of spiced black beans, I decided to use some plain black beans that I had cooked, and using Mark Bittman’s bean burger recipe as a guideline, I added various things to pep up the burgers, including garlic, chili powder, and cheddar cheese. I would have loved to add cilantro, but unlike basil, in our supermarkets cilantro is not sold in big bags for a reasonable price. Unless we are having company, I just can’t bring myself to buy those expensive little containers of herbs. So no cilantro, but it would have been a happy addition.

The results? Clif had to talk himself out of having a second burger, and a good thing, too. Otherwise, we wouldn’t have had enough for leftovers, and he certainly didn’t need a second burger. But the larger point is that Clif, who can eat onions, thought these burgers were so good that he wanted seconds. So, success!

As noted in the chickpea burger recipe, one recipe makes four burgers. I cook them all at once, and the beauty of these burgers, whether they are made with chickpeas or black beans, is that they reheat beautifully just the way they are cooked the first time—with a bit of oil in a frying pan.

Our next challenge will be to see how the bean burgers do on the grill. Will they fall apart? How much oil will they need? How long will it take to sizzle them? We are a having a Fourth of July gathering here, and as two of the guests don’t eat meat, I plan to make some of the chickpea patties.

“We’ll need to have a dry run, don’t you think?” I asked Clif.

“Definitely,” he answered.

Next week, then, it will be chickpea burgers on the grill.

In the interim, we have leftover black bean burgers to look forward to.

Black Bean Burgers
Makes 4 patties

2 cups of cooked black beans
2 small cloves or 1 large clove of garlic
1 tablespoon of chili powder
1/2 teaspoon of salt
pepper to taste
1/2 cup of cheddar cheese, grated
1/2 cup of rolled oats
1 egg
Oil for frying

In a food processor, combine all the ingredients except the oil. Pulse until the ingredients are mixed but there are still some chunks of bean left. You want a combination of smooth and chunky. If the mixture is too dry, add a little water. (I have not had to do this.) Form the mixture into 4 patties, put on a plate, and chill for an hour or so. This will make the burgers easier to handle.

Heat the oil in a frying pan. When the oil is hot, add the patties and cook for 5 minutes on one side. Flip, and cook for 5 minutes on the other side or until the burger is nicely browned.

Use whatever condiments you would use on a burger. I like dill pickle chips. My husband, Clif, favors jalapeños. Salsa would also be good on black bean burgers. Ketchup. Mayonnaise. There really are no wrong choices.

I have a culinary problem that causes me much anguish. I have alluded to it in past posts, and the time has come to address it directly. So here it is: My digestive system will not tolerate onions unless they have been cooked to smithereens. And I mean smithereens. In stews or a chili where the onions have been simmered for hours and hours, I seldom have a problem. If the onion is chopped very fine and cooked fairly well and there is not too much of it, I’ll only have slight indigestion. (In such dishes—like the fish chowder at the Congo Church—I will indulge from time to time, knowing I’ll have to hit the baking soda and water as soon as I get home.) But if I eat something that has big chunks of not very well cooked onions, then I know I am headed for trouble—multiple doses of baking soda and water followed by Tagamet. And raw onions? Forget about it.

To say this puts a damper on my cooking and eating is an understatement. Onions provide a flavor and depth that when missing can make a dish seem blah and boring. In addition, it is often difficult when going out to eat to find items on the menu that don’t have onions, and dining at friends’ houses can be downright problematic. I was brought up to eat what was in front of me and to say thank you very much. So what do I do? Confess that I have an onion disability? Stay silent, pray that none of the dishes are laden with raw or lightly-cooked onions, and eat what is served? I have done both, and neither approach seems satisfactory. The first approach seems rude—what I have, after all, is an intolerance not a full-blown allergy—and the second approach can lead to misery, even though my affliction is only an intolerance. I long for a third way, which would be to eat the darned things and to suffer no ill effects. However, at my age, I know this is unlikely and that I have to stiver through as best I can.

This brings me to my own cooking, and, in a round-about way, to a recipe for chickpea burgers. First, and I thank the gods for this on a regular basis, I am able to eat garlic. (Raw garlic can be as problematic as onions, but as long as it is lightly cooked, I am fine.) Second, and this is probably why I love Italian food so much, many dishes, especially pasta, can be made using garlic rather than onion. According to Mark Bittman, there is even a notion among some Italian cooks that no dish should include both onion and garlic. (He does not subscribe to this notion.) Finally, I have come to realize that as long as a dish is flavorful, the lack of onion will not be such a problem.

Obviously, then, garlic is one of my prime substitutions for onion, but there are also other flavorings that will jazz up a meal—fresh herbs and a bit of cheese can really make a difference, and I use both in the following recipe for chickpea burgers. This recipe has been adapted from one of Mark Bittman’s in How to Cook Everything Vegetarian. His recipe called for onion, for which I substituted one clove of garlic. Then, following some of his suggestions for flavoring bean burgers, I added fresh basil and some grated sharp cheddar. The results were all that I could have hoped for—a veggie burger that was full of flavor, so good, in fact, that these burgers will be a regular part of our diet. The garlic, the chickpeas, the basil, and the cheese all come together to produce a terrific Mediterranean taste. Thus far, we have only pan fried the burgers, but we are looking forward to grilling them, too. Another nice feature is that a single recipe makes four patties that can all be cooked at the same time. The leftovers reheat beautifully in the same way they are originally cooked—in a frying pan with a bit of oil.

Before giving this recipe, I want to note that although fresh basil can be expensive, there is no substitute for it. Dried basil just isn’t worth it. At many grocery stores, large packs of fresh basil are available at a fairly reasonable price. The big pack I picked up at Trader Joe’s was about $2.50, and I have seen similar prices at our local Hannaford. And for those who can’t find big packs of basil at a good price, take heart. Summer and farmers’ markets are coming, and for cooks who have a bit of sunny space in their yards, basil can planted in pots as well as in the garden.

Chickpea Burgers
Makes 4 large patties

2 cups of cooked chickpeas
1/2 cup of whole basil leaves
1 clove of garlic
1/2 teaspoon of salt
Pepper to taste
1/2 cup of rolled oats
1 egg
1/2 cup of sharp cheddar, grated
Olive oil for frying

In my above preamble, I forgot to mention how easy it is to make these burgers. You do need a food processor, which, in my opinion, is an indispensable piece of equipment in a home cook’s kitchen. Food processors don’t even have to be expensive to work well. Ours was cheap, and we have gotten many years of use out of it.  (And it’s still going strong.)

Put all ingredients, except for the oil, in a food processor. You don’t have to chop the basil or the garlic. The food processor will take care of that for you. (You do, of course, have to grate the cheese before adding it to the food processor.) Pulse this mixture until it is fairly well chopped and combined but not totally smooth. There should be rough chunks in the mixture. If the mixture seems too dry, add a bit of water. (I haven’t had to do this.)

Form the mixture into four patties, and chill for an hour in the refrigerator if you have time. Even after chilling, they will be a little crumbly, but they will hold together in the pan. Heat the oil in the frying pan, and when it is hot, add the patties, cooking on one side for five minutes. Flip carefully, and cook on the other side until brown and crispy, about five minutes, maybe a little less if the pan is hot.

Serve on a bun, and any of the toppings you would use on a meat burger would be good on this one as well. Lettuce, tomato, ketchup, mustard, mayonnaise, and, yes, even a slice of onion if you don’t have a touchy digestive system.

After a long wet, rainy May, we had the warmest, sunniest, most-perfect Memorial Day that I can remember. The weather was hot but not stifling, and there was nary a dark cloud to dampen our day. For the most part, the dratted black flies were gone (and good riddance!), and the mosquitoes didn’t come out until dusk. This meant my husband, Clif, and I could spend the whole glorious afternoon on our patio, and we were joined by our daughter Shannon and her husband, Mike, for the first barbecue of the season.

At our house, barbecues follow a certain ritual. First comes the appetizer. We try not to go overboard on this, knowing that more food, lots more food, will follow. Yesterday we kept it simple with chips and salsa and a pitcher of margaritas to toast not only the beginning of summer but also those who have passed away and are very much missed.

Next comes grilled bread, which has become one of our specialties. So much so that guests actually request grilled bread when we invite them for a barbecue. Clif has become a master at stretching the dough, rolling it, flipping it, and making sure it doesn’t burn. A little olive oil for dipping, and you have yourself a pretty good treat. We take the easy way out—buying pizza dough from our local Hannaford—but ambitious cooks could certainly make their own. Perhaps one day I will. Regardless of whether the dough is made from scratch or purchased at a grocery, grilled bread wows most guests at pennies per serving. Now, how often does that happen?

After the bread has been dipped and eaten, we move on to the main meal. For this Memorial Day, we went traditional—grilled chicken, steamed corn, and the best-ever potato salad. (Yes, a recipe will follow.) There are three elements that make this potato salad especially good—bacon, sour cream, and, most important, the hot potatoes are marinated with a vinaigrette. The resulting potato salad is so flavorful that it really doesn’t need onions, although they certainly could be added. As raw onions do not agree with me, this is a real plus in my books.

It is our habit to linger over the main meal until the citronella torches must be lit, dampness settles over the backyard, and, finally, the mosquitoes come out. Then in we go for tea and dessert. Shannon made chocolate thumb-print cookies, which she filled with a cream-cheese mixture and topped with chopped strawberries. A delectable ending to a splendid Memorial Day.

Best-Ever Potato Salad
Adapted from a recipe given to me by my friend Dawna Leavitt

7 medium potatoes
1/3 cup of vinaigrette or Italian dressing
4 or 5 hard boiled eggs, chopped
1/2 pound of bacon, cooked and crumbled
3/4 cup of sour cream, or to taste
1 tablespoon of mayonnaise, or to taste
Salt and pepper to taste

Peel and cut potatoes in quarters. In a large stock pan, boil the potatoes until tender. As soon as the potatoes are done, chop them into bite-sized pieces, put them in a mixing bowl, and pour the vinaigrette or Italian dressing over the still-hot potatoes. Put the bowl in the refrigerator and let marinate a few hours, at least until the potatoes are cold.

When the potatoes are nice and chilled, add the chopped eggs, the crumbled bacon, the sour cream, the mayonnaise, and the salt and pepper. Mix well, put in a pretty serving dish, and ideally chill a bit more so that the flavors will mix. However, if you are pressed for time, the potato salad could be served immediately.

Full disclosure: I do not measure the sour cream or the mayonnaise. I add a bit of sour cream and then mayonnaise until I get a consistency that I like.

Also, 3/4 cup of chopped celery could be added, and for those who love onions, 1/3 cup or so of chopped onions. Parsley might be nice, too, but I never do. I just stick with the basics, and even onion lovers have requested this recipe.