I’ve had a little dream.
I suspect that it finds its source in Shadowrun: Dragonfall, a cool little turn based strategy game with rpg elements that I finished around Christmas time while I was back in Scotland.
Anyway, for whatever reason I’ve had this urge to build myself a little garden, possibly on a flat rooftop somewhere, and kit it out with a vegetable patch and a clutch of solar panels. I think this sentiment grew out of the game, as that is very much the aesthetic of the Kreusbazaar, the game’s central environment, a tough little anarchist state holding its own in the sea of violence and exploitation that surfaced in the wake of Berlin’s Dracopocalypse.
Around the same time I was eating a lot of bean burgers. There was a stand at the Edinburgh’s Christmas Market, just down the strip from the waffle stand run by a gang of South German accountants and lawyers, that sold a wide selection of burgers, and we learned to get along well with them selling vegetarian food and my rarely having time to make my own lunch.
So if I had a rooftop garden I feel like, climate permitting, I’d probably grow beans.
And I made a bean burger for myself, which is tangentially connected to all this babble and rather more so to the title of this article. Why it is I seem to feel the need to misdirect so aggressively in my opening statements is a facet of myself I am yet to understand.
So there was a bean burger. The bean mix functioned a bit more like a spread than a burger, but it turned out pretty well.
Fry your beans in oil, and then mash them to a paste with a fork in the pan. Throw in some finely chopped onion.
Spread the mix onto an English Muffin, or whatever bread product you have handy.
Fry a strip of firm tofu in oil, and put this on the bean mix like a cute little soy steak (omg! so cute!)
Add sweet chilli sauce.
Use glucose extracted by your digestive system to collapse Australia’s monstrous government and attend celebratory drinks in quorganism’s solar bean garden.
Enjoy your week, imaginary readers.