That Guy: Hard circumstances lead to a burgeoning burger

A velvet burger, not the Late Night Big Breakfast though. Photo / Supplied

There is an old saying that goes: "You know when you have really made it when you have a burger named after you". If that is the case you would have to say that I am at the absolute zenith of my career.

Velvet Burger have just released a burger called the Late Night Big Breakfast, named, of course, after the top-rating late night talk show on comedy runaway success Moon TV.

Of course, I was flattered when I was asked to lend my name to the burger but even more flattered when asked to design it myself, from the ground up.

As the name suggests, it has pretty much everything from a café big breakfast menu in it, even a hash brown, flat white and hot sauce. So it is not for the faint-hearted, vegetarians or losers.

But the road to this epic burger has been long and winding. In fact the seeds were sown more than 700 years ago in France.

In 1478 my great, great, great, great, great, great, great, great, great, great, great, great, great, great, great, great, great, great, great uncle, through a one night stand on a combined family vacation on my father's side, set the wheels in motion.

He was a nymphomaniac Franciscan monk by the name of Claude Harte and among other things he was a Sunday columnist, a furniture scotch guarder and a winemaker. He made history when he crushed a rare variety of grape, mixed them with hard water from the Bavarian Alps, scotch guard fluid and testosterone from ground hamster testicles. He then whacked it in a soda-stream and made fizzy fortified wine so sweet, beautiful and pure that many said the recipe could have only come from GOD himself.

Legend has it that in addition to serving up horrendous hangovers, and cases of the "demons", the wine had great power to heal. On one occasion Claude restored a beggar's sight by dabbing some of the nectar on his blind eyes. To put that in perspective though, far more people actually went blind each year from drinking it and many became paralysed from falling down stairs or off balconies.

It also had powerful aphrodisiac qualities, meaning the monks who had taken vows of chastity often had erections during prayer sessions, or baptisms, which incensed the Vatican no end. Claude refused to share the secret recipe with the Vatican, so was condemned to death as a heretic.

In front of a large pay-per-view audience he was burnt like a steak. Luckily just before his execution Claude managed to smuggle the recipe to a trusted friend from his darts team and ever since it has been passed down through countless generations in my family, for more than 600 years. In fact, until last year when my Uncle Barry lost it. We had no choice but to make a burger instead.

I would like to think that a little of that magic from the past has gone into the burger. It is truly epic, and rumour has it that if you eat too many of them you may also experience blindness, bloatedness and/or constant horniness, for this is a powerful burger and not for the faint hearted.

Pop into Velvet Burger on Fort Street and ask for the Late Night Big Breakfast burger. If you're man enough.