Ode to burger

It is time, my friend, to write about our long-lasting, life-time relationship.
From cheap meat on drunken dawns, to Kobe beef on crunchy buns. From New Zealand to Germany, you keep me company in lonely hotels, in an endless repeating of late-night room services.
Not an easy life, when chefs refuse to cook you rare, when you can be let down by soggy chips and stale bread. When bad beer can spoil an evening, when too much onion or tasteless lettuce can put you off.
And yet, I have to admit, even I, your great admirer, even I have, once or twice, betrayed you. A baseball game, a mini selection, I know, it is no excuse. But I too have surrendered to your poor cousin. Yes, I have to confess, every now and again, I have preferred a hot dog.
That's it. No more lies. Please forgive me.
Because you, burger, will be my favourite. Only pizza can compete. But that's another story.