Winter is coming, and for some Minnesotans, that can be a hard fact to face. So, as a public service, to help get us through this difficult time, I present the Nacho Juicy Lucy. (Whether you spell it "Juicy" or "Jucy" will depend on where you think the originator of the burger was — there's a Wikipedia page on it!: Matt's Bar or the 5-8 Club, both in Minneapolis. We're going with the version that doesn't make our spelling czars go crazy.)
Yes, I realize I'm delving into the dark culinary arts with this one, but sometimes that's necessary, and this seems like as good a time as any. Still, as frivolous as it sounds, there are serious things to consider.
First, buying lean ground beef for this burger simply won't cut it. I know that some of you never buy meat that's less than 95 percent lean, but if you want your Lucy to actually be juicy, you're going to have to bite the bullet and go for 80 percent lean. The good news is, I'm not asking you to grind your own beef to get that great combination of chuck roast and brisket. Although if that's what you're into, bravo!
To give the ground beef some flavor, we mix in a little chili powder, cumin and salt. Make sure to mix the seasonings in gently. If you're too vigorous in the mixing, you'll make the burgers too dense and tough, so be nice. After all, the burger hasn't done anything bad to you.
Next, we need to tackle the oh-so-difficult topic of cheese. Or in this case, pasteurized processed American cheese, which may or may not (probably not) be cheese at all. Save the extra-sharp, aged English Cheddar for a fancy cheese plate. What we're looking for here is a sure-to-be-molten, neutral-flavored "cheese" that won't overwhelm all the other elements in the burger, and American cheese delivers on all points.
Because we're taking this Juicy Lucy to the next level, we've also added pickled jalapeños to the cheese filling. If you feel like that might be too zippy for your taste, chopped mild green chiles will also work. Or, if desired, you can leave them out entirely.
Of course, this burger can hardly call itself "nacho" if it's slathered in ketchup and mustard. No ordinary condiment will do for such a special beef patty. That's why I felt the need to make my own. Well, by make-my-own, I mean mixing salsa and mayo (not the low-fat kind. I mean, do you really want to be counting calories here?). It's not complicated, but it is effective.
The garnishes are a matter of taste. I like a slice of tomato, a few rings of red onion, some crisp lettuce and sliced avocado. There is one nonnegotiable garnish, though — tortilla chips. What's a nacho without chips?
