College Eating – Patty Melts
My freshman year of college I resided in the dorms, and as would be expected, I ate in the college cafeteria. The food was acceptable, more quantity than quality. We occasionally used the dorm kitchen to cook a meal or two, but I consumed mostly cafeteria food and pizza, delivered late at night, supplemented with macaroni and cheese and ramen made in an electric hot pot.
My sophomore year I lived in a house owned by the college. As it had a proper kitchen, I was no longer obligated to buy a meal plan, and I didn’t in order to save money and eat better. Eating on my own was now a little more complicated, and I resolved the issue in a combination of ways. Occasionally I would sneak into the cafeteria for lunch, taking advantage of the abundance. Sometimes I would get a hunk of cheese, along with chips and salsa from the college food co-op. I know I did some cooking in the kitchen, although most of it was not memorable.
Late-night snacks that year I do recall. As a college student, I was careful about how my meager allowance got spent. I only went shopping for ingredients for a specific meal, and as a result, I had little food stores built up in the refrigerator and pantry. This made spontaneity difficult. Others with whom I lived, however, felt the need to buy all the basics and then plan their meal. Late at night in a ravenous state, especially on weekends, I took advantage of their foresight. I pilfered a little bit from each of my housemates to satisfy my midnight hunger. I would take one slice of bread from one person’s loaf, and a second from another’s. No one would notice one egg missing from a dozen, and I could shave just a little bit of cheese off the edge of this block. A leaf or two of lettuce for crunch, a smear of mayonnaise for flavor, and a pat of butter in which to cook it all made for a mighty fine late-night fried egg sandwich.
My junior year I rented a house with friends and for dinners I joined a cooking group. I would cook one night a week, and others would cook the rest. We shared the responsibility, and the food was of variable quality; we were all learning to cook for ourselves and others, and the results were mixed.
My senior year I lived in a house with my friend Emily and a couple of other students. Emily and I cooked together, and we did just fine. Some nights dinner was simple fare, while other nights our meals were fancier, all based on our workload and available time. I do not recall all the recipes we prepared, but overall, we ate well.
I once made “Burn Your Eyes Chicken,” a very spicy variation of Kung Pao Chicken I learned from my father. Emily liked it, however our friend Juliette, who declined the meal invitation that evening because she wasn’t enamored by spicy food, said “You wanted me to eat THAT?” when the dried red chilis searing in oil made us all cough. Another meal I remember Emily and I preparing was patty melts.
Patty melts were a regular part of our dinner rotation, I suppose because they were easy to make, and we both loved them. On our way home from campus to cook after a long day of classes, Emily and I would pass an Arby’s fast-food restaurant. We would stop in to visit the condiment bar and pocket packets of horseradish sauce and ketchup, always the poor college students. At home we’d flatten the burgers (to fit better in the sandwich) and sear onions in oil. We would place it all on rye bread with Swiss cheese and then griddle both sides like a grilled cheese sandwich, pressing down with a heavy weight to make it as flat as possible. The horseradish sauce and ketchup topped it all, making for a very satisfying meal, one that made us feel grown up and proud we could feed ourselves.
College is a time of growth and maturity in terms of education, relationships, and yes, even food. I tried all kinds of food I had never eaten before while in college, and I learned to cook and feed myself, as well as others. Patty melts were an important part of my college education.
Patty Melts
Patty melts vary slightly in their ingredients, even though the construction is always substantially the same. It’s a grilled cheese sandwich, with the addition of a hamburger patty and sauteed onions. The combination works beautifully. Classically it contains Swiss cheese and rye bread, but numerous variations sport other types of bread and cheese. No matter what you use, the hamburger patty needs to be cooked first and must be fairly flat and wide so as to fit nicely on the rounded edges of the rye, if that’s what you’re using.
I understand the desire for a thick bar burger or smash burger, yet if I see a patty melt on the menu, it sends me back to making dinner with Emily, and I’ll often select it over these classics.
about 30 minutes, serves 2
1 Tbsp. vegetable oil
1 medium onion, halved and cut into slices
⅔ lb. ground beef
4 slices of rye bread
2 – 4 slices Swiss cheese
3 Tbsp. butter
ketchup and horseradish sauce for serving (optional)
- Place a heavy bottom skillet large enough to fit two slices of bread over medium heat. Add the oil. When hot add the onion and cook, stirring, until cooked through, but not fully caramelized, about 10 minutes. Remove from the skillet to a small bowl and set aside.
- While working it as little as possible so as not to make it tough, divide the ground beef in half and form each lump into a patty as wide or a little wider than the bread. (It will shrink when cooked.) It should be less than a half inch thick. Cook the burgers over high heat in the same skillet (or on a grill) until just cooked through, about 4 minutes a side.
- Place the cooked burger patties each on top of one slice of bread. Cover with fried onions and Swiss cheese, and finally the other slices of bread.
- Wipe the skillet clean with a paper towel and melt half the butter over a medium heat. Make sure butter covers the entire skillet and place the sandwiches in. Cover them with another heavy skillet or pot, enough to weigh them down and flatten them. Cook until bread is golden, monitoring closely, about 4 minutes. Remove sandwiches temporarily to a plate and add remaining butter, making sure it covers the entire bottom of the skillet. Place the patty melts back in the skillet, uncooked side down, flatten them with a weighted pan, and cook until done, an additional 3 or 4 minutes.
- Serve hot with ketchup and horseradish sauce.
