Hamburgers & Bad Parenting

by Amy

The child sat at the next picnic table and immediately spilled a Coke in one direction and knocked over the salt shaker in the other. His mother made Number Five take a pinch of salt and toss it over his shoulder. Gamache watched with interest. Peter brought over a platter of hamburgers, slices of barbecued lamb and a pyramid of corn on the cob while Olivier put down a tray of beers and bright pink lemonades.
“For God’s sake, qu’est-ce que tu fais? There’re ants everywhere, and just wait. Wasps’ll come and sting you.”
Mom grabbed the boy’s arm and yanked Number Five to another table, leaving the mess for someone else to clean up.

We’ve all been there. I don’t mean that we’ve all been that mom. I mean we’ve all been the person watching a parent blotch parenting. And we’ve all, at some point, been that kid. We’ve all made a mess at some point in our lives. And I’m pretty sure no one has lived any significant amount of time without ever being smack in the middle of a mess and hearing a scolding. We’ve all been there.

They all watched as Shithead [aka Number Five] took a lick of his Coaticook ice cream, spilled more salt and again shot the Coke can across the table. It skidded over the salt, hit a bump and fell over. 
He started crying. Mom, after soothing him, took a pinch of spilled salt and tossed it over his shoulder. For luck. Gamache thought the only luck Number Five would have would be if his mother made him clean up after himself instead of moving each time he made a mess.

It’s all too common, isn’t it?

I can’t help but think that this might have been Louise Penny’s revenge after watching one parent too many. I wonder if she felt like Gamache, watching with interest and thinking the child should be so lucky as to have someone teach him or her to clean up.

We’ve all been there. Watching the imminent mess and shaking our heads at the one who wasn’t able to prevent it or didn’t fix it once it happened.

She’s a double offender, isn’t she? She not only doesn’t make him clean up his own mess, she doesn’t even set an example by cleaning it herself.

I can empathize with mom. There’s an age where mess follows you around ALL-THE-TIME. I remember packing for a trip once and my mom questioning whether I really needed a clean pair of jeans for each day of the weekend trip. Couldn’t I just have one pair and change tops? Um… no. 

There were always dirty feet bumping into my legs, occasionally a dirty diaper leaking on my lap, and all too frequently sticky handprints everywhere.

It’s tiring to clean up after yourself at any age.

It’s utterly exhausting to teach someone else to clean up after themselves.

It’s oh!-so-very rewarding when they learn to do so.

It is true, though, that teaching someone how to do anything involves the willingness to do it yourself. 

The best teachers are those who set an example. First you show… then you do it together… and then you supervise. If you’ve done your job right as a mentor and the disciple is willing, the expectation is that they will not only do it themselves, but perhaps even do it better.

I kind of feel sorry for the kid in the story. He probably drives people crazy. I mean… Number Five and Shithead aren’t exactly endearing nicknames. It’s not all his fault though, right? The person who’s supposed to be taking the time to educate him into becoming a better person and a more acceptable social being oscillates between pampering and scolding – neither of which seem to be very effective.

Gamache looked over at the first picnic table. Sure enough, ants and wasps swarmed over the sweet puddles of Coke.
“Hamburger, Armand?” Reine-Marie held out the burger, then lowered it. She recognized the look on her husband’s face. He’d seen something. She looked over but saw only an empty picnic table and a few wasps.

But he saw murder.
He saw ants and bees, the statue, the black walnut, Canada Day and its counterpart Saint-Jean-Baptiste. He saw summer jobs and greed and the wickedness that would wait decades to crush Julia Morrow.
And he finally had something to write it that last column.
How.
How a father had walked off his pedestal and crushed his daughter.

Don’t you just love that? The “aha” moment?

Life is full of those – when we care to look. If we pay attention, life gives us opportunities and clues to unlock mysteries and find answers to our questions. Gamache pays attention. He’s always open to listening and learning from his surroundings.

I had a tiny “aha” moment when I realized this scene would be the perfect opportunity to try making my own veggie patties. I had never made them. We don’t frequently eat hamburgers at home. And I rarely eat them anywhere, really. I have had some veggie burgers in the past few years and I enjoyed them.

They were a bit messy to make. If I’m honest, they looked gross in the process. I knew they’d probably taste good because every single ingredient was something I liked and they would have gone well together anyway, so I couldn’t see what could go wrong. But it looked like a mess.

The end result was yummy, though. Very yummy. If you’re not a big meat fan, that is.

In a bit of olive oil I sautéed about two cloves of garlic, 2 tablespoons of chopped onion, 1 tablespoon of chopped olives, and 2 tablespoons of yellow pepper (because that’s what I had, but I’m sure others would work just as well) and let that cool.

In a big bowl I mixed about 1 cup of chickpeas, 1 cup of black beans, 1 cup of oats, 2 tablespoons of breadcrumbs, 1 egg, and lots of spices – what I had at hand and knew I liked. Nothing special. And I’d be hard-pressed to tell you how much of anything, since I was just kind of throwing it in. I have made this again and added varied quantities of similar ingredients with successful results.

I added the sautéed vegetables to the mix and then made the patties. I refrigerated them for a few hours and then I cooked them in a saute pan with a little bit of olive oil.

I’m the worse food blogger EVER. It’s a good thing I’m not really blogging about food, right? This is an unfollowable recipe, I suppose. Not at all precise. Maybe Libby can make some veggie patties and post an actual “followable” recipe some other time.

Since I was probably messing up the original burger idea anyway (I don’t think Reine-Marie or Gamache were eating veggie burgers), I went ahead and used this soft flat bread they sell close to my home that I love and rarely buy, I smeared Djon mustard on the bottom, placed the pattie on top, and added a dollop of ketchup. I had a bit of cottage cheese on the side and some greens.