I am liar. Not one of those liar by nature types though, I only lie when necessary. I’d like to think of myself as a white or noble liar. A noble lie is often told to maintain law, order and safety. A white lie is a lie told by a Caucasian person. Did you think I was serious? I hope so. A white lie is a minor lie which could be considered to be harmless, or even beneficial, in the long term. A common version of a white lie is to tell only part of the truth.
That’s what I did yesterday. I only told part of the truth. A half lie. See on Sunday when my Man was out of town I made a batch of Peas and Thank You Black Bean Burgers, as well as, a batch of Thai Chickpea Burgers. Now I made these burgers with intention to eat them all myself. However, I have this odd obsession with wanting other people to eat my food and then tell me how good it is. SO I told my Man about the burgers. Actually I sold my Man the burgers. I told him how great they are, how healthy they are, how red meat causes cancer and steals fiancés, etc.. By the time I was finished selling them, as if my livelihood depended on it, he caved. He would eat a BLACK BEAN BURGER.
Shit. I hadn’t thought that far ahead. He can’t try a Black Bean Burger because the Black Bean Burgers are made with chopped mushrooms. My Man HATES mushrooms. Actually, he loathes them. He will NOT eat them and if you try to convince him, “to just try one” or say “you won’t even know they’re in there”, it is sure to escalate into a fight. A FIGHT. If there’s a mushroom in and around, or touching something he will NOT eat it.
I quickly refocused and began to try and sell him the Thai Chickpea Burger. Nope. Apparently chickpeas are too “weird” and he wasn’t “ready” for those. He wanted the Black Bean Burger. The excitement of the fact that he was going to eat something I made and then tell me how good it was (hopefully), AND that it was vegetarian no less, was just too great. Selfishly I decided right then and there, I’d lie.
“So what’s all in the black bean burger?”
“Ohhh black beans, soy sauce, nutritional yeast.. umm.. garlic, oat flour, tahini.. that’s about it really.”
As I stared at the least-mushroom-looking-burger I was cooking I started to panic. What if he sees the mushrooms? What will I say? I can’t say they’re mushrooms. He won’t think that’s funny. He might be mad. What if he sees one mid-burger? That will be a waste. And awkward. This was a bad idea. Whose idea was this?!
Now here’s the thing with lies, once you get caught up in one there’s no turning back. There are only two options. One, you can out yourself. Tell them the truth before it goes too far. Or two, hope that the lie goes undiscovered, in which case, you win. You’re an amazing cook, a burger connoisseur, an innovative chef. I’ll take option two.
One Black Bean Burger coming right up.

He LOVED it. Well those weren’t his exact words. He said, “this is actually really good”. I KNOW he loved it though because he had another one for supper and he NEVER has the same thing for lunch and supper. Even when I try to convince him otherwise, “let’s get pitas again. Come on! Didn’t you like yours?”
I liked mine too.

And guess what? You're in luck because you can find the recipe here. Or maybe i'm lying.
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