Craving Krystal's

You know that craving you would be ashamed to admit to your closest friends? The one that can hit any time of the day or night. And just WILL NOT go away until you give into it.

I constantly crave Krystal burgers. As I type this with one hand, I am reaching with the other into the depths of a Krystal's bag and fingering three empty little cardboard cartons. Damn, I knew I should've ordered the 4-pack!

When you want a sack of Krystal burgers, nothing BUT NOTHING else will do. Not McDonald's, Burger King nor Wendy's. Hardee's? Oh please.

My craving is genetic. It must be. My father's first after-school job was steaming burgers at one of the first Krystal's ever in Knoxville, Tenn. He spent the rest of his life trying -- and failing -- to replicate those square little wonder sliders at home.

When I lived in Bay St. Louis, where there were no actual Krystal's restaurants, many's the night I tossed a coat on over my jammies and cruised the freezer section at the Jitney Jungle. And microwaved the whole boxful of those little frozen 2-burger packs. In one sitting.

Hattiesburg, praise the Lord, still has an actual Krystal's -- with a drive-thru. Not the nice clean convenient one from my college days. No, this one is located in an area I rarely venture into when I am not being held hostage by my craving, one near the highway and interstate adjacent to a truck stop and past a parking lot full of potholes.

The true measure of my addiction is that I willingly schlep myself there on a fairly regular basis and wait in the drive-thru line at all hours with the stoned college students, truckers, and other people in cars lacking mufflers, brake lights and license plates. But then, who am I to judge?

Author Jill Connor Browne, better known as the Sweet Potato Queen, is also a self-professed Krystal fan. She writes that Krystal burgers are the perfect food to sneak into a movie. I disagree. The two unwritten rules of smuggling food into movie theaters (not that I have ever personally done this, but I was formerly a movie concession stand professional so you develop a sense for these things) is that said food must be noiseless and odorless.

Yes, biting into those soft, soft steamed buns, onions, wafer thin meat patties, mustard and soggy dill pickle chips will yield no tell-tale crunch. But that smell. That seductive aroma will wrap itself into a visible arrow pointing straight your head like one in a Bugs Bunny cartoon. That smell will narc you out every time. And let me tell you those theater managers are getting to be real hard asses about it. Or so I've heard.

What will I do if my beloved, yet grungy, Krystal's ever closes?

I suppose moving is a viable option. If I want to be totally honest, easy Krystal access may be one of the reasons I still live here. Then again, I could try to make my own. Daddy was never successful at it, but I came across this recipe that sounds like it just might work (except for the catsup. Seriously, who puts catsup on a Krystal burger? It's un-Southern!)

Now I have to say that the strained beef baby food part is weirding me out just a little. And it's probably a really key ingredient so it's not like you could just leave it out. Tell you what. You try it and let me know how it works.

While you're doing that, I'll make a repeat run through the Krystal's drive-thru. They're open all night you know!