When a man loves a burger...

Find me a man who doesn't like a hamburger. Seriously. I dare you.

Your average bloke, even ones with a developed palate, seem all too willing to throw caution to the wind for a hamburger from any greasy spoon, franchise or road-side wagon if they're hungry enough. Or if their mates suggest it after a few beers. Personally, I'd rather go hungry than eat from most of these places, and generally don't have a choice because of the whole 'can't eat wheat' thing. Sadly, your average hungry bloke requires more instant gratification.

To prove the point, I give you my sister's boyfriend. He's a fantastic cook. He's also smart, sensitive and gives a damn about food and where it comes from. He keeps a stock of good ingredients. He owns a bread maker and can use the ravioli setting on my pasta maker better than I can. Last night when my sister was here, he called to let her know he was home safely. Then came the inevitable "what did you have for dinner." Silence. I heard my sister ask "did you have McDonalds?" followed by "you always mumble when you've had McDonalds." And then "well, you deserve it."

I sat there wondering if that meant she was cross at him for eating fast food and thought he deserved whatever digestive issue he may have during the night as a result? Or, did it mean that lining up for a burger and fries prepared by some exhausted uni student towards the end of their shift, was perceived as a treat? Frankly, I couldn't see how but then I remembered my sister loves this man and would hardly wish him to spend a night kneeling before the porcelain goddess.

A couple of weeks ago there was a lot of talk about a burger wagon in Kingston. Sightings of this fairy-lit, red wagon of pleasure were being bragged about online and it seemed everyone was raving about it. Funnily enough, one night Tim announced he really felt like a burger, I shouldn't have to cook (it was his night) and it would be a good exercise to take photos of food at night. Sure...

It wasn't hard to find the Brodburger wagon. It's red and lit up, just like the legends say, and had a couple of dozen people milling about it. All sorts of people were there - young, old, couples, dogs, you name it. And everyone was chilled and happy to wait. The whole atmosphere was pretty relaxed and friendly. We got talking to people who'd come from the far north and the far south, such was the Brodburger reputation.

Each time the little window slid open, you could almost hear the waiting crowd draw a sharp, collective breath, each person hoping that they would be called next. With hope and expectation on their faces, the lucky ones moved forward when their number was called, reached up and were handed their little parcel of burgery goodness. A few people stood around, huddled in little groups of confidents, eating cosily and boastfully. Most people took theirs away to savour privately in cars and homes all over Canberra.

Then it was Tim's turn. He got the Brodburger Delux. We drove over to the bus depot car park where we could check it out without pressure. It had two beef patties, lots of fresh salad, and I'm pretty sure two types of cheese. The bun was fresh and crunchy and the whole thing smelled divine. I tried the beef and it was very, very good. Not sausage meat; it tasted like real steak with very little culinary interference. It cost about $14 but Tim felt it was worthwhile.

To put it in perspective, Tim can go out for entree, mains and dessert, and then go home and have toast and cereal for supper. (And yes, he stays exactly the same size.) The Brodburger hit the spot. No supper required.