The Dangers of Going to the West Side Market with Post-Race Hunger

So, Mr. Grumpy and I ran a 5K this Saturday. Mr. Grumpy asked for permission to run without me, mostly because he runs faster than a cheetah (Mr. Grumpy actually says he runs faster than a bat out of Hell, which makes no sense because bats don’t run). And I run at the speed of a … really fat elephant. So, of course I told him to leave me behind. And boy am I glad – when I arrived at the last tenth of a mile at the race, there Mr. Grumpy stood on the side of the road, yelling at me to start sprinting as hard as I could. Yelling very loudly, I might add. So loudly, in fact, that the girl running next to me turned to me and said, “Wow… is that your boyfriend?” She was being very judgemental. So I told her I had no idea who that was and that maybe he was yelling at her, not me. Then, I sprinted away… 

Mr. Grumpy was being really super humble and wouldn’t tell me what his time was on the race. We stuck around for the awards ceremony, in which I thought we’d marvel at all the winners together and make fun of all the old men with shorty-shorts on… Well, when they got to our age group winners, they said Mr. Grumpy’s name. He had WON the race – and in only 19 minutes. Pretty impressive, right? (My time was 32, thankyouverymuch). No big deal, guys. He got a pretty sweet medal make out of a wood chip. And he had to stand in front of everyone with said medal. Then, we realized our car was a mile away from the finish line, so naturally he made us RUN to it. As if we hadn’t run enough …

So naturally, the first thing he said when we got in the car was, “So what’s for lunch?” Uhhh… I had not planned a meal as I had been focused on getting first place at our 5K (which I would have if they would have let me compete in the 65-year-old age group) so I suggested we go pick up some food at the West Side Market. Big. Mistake. Everyone knows you should NEVER go shopping for food when you’re hungry. $60 and six bags of food later, we were headed home with lunch on our minds.

Enter italian sausage sliders. The best post-race meal like … ever. These really hit the spot – and we sucked these babies down so fast that I, again, went into a food coma and took a two-hour nap. This is becoming a routine for me…

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Here’s what you’ll need:

  • 1/2 lb spicy (or sweet is fine too) italian sausage (you can just buy it without the sausage casings)
  • 1/2 cup shredded mozzarella cheese
  • Salt & pepper to taste
  • 1/2 large green pepper
  • 1/2 small white onion
  • 2 tbsp olive oil
  • 4 slider buns (we got potato rolls from the market)

First, combine your sausage and mozzarella cheese by gently folding the cheese into the meat in a mixing bowl. Sprinkle with salt & pepper to taste, and mix in. Make four small flat patties with the meat mixture. Next, cut your green pepper and onions into long, thin slices. Toss them in the olive oil and sprinkle salt and pepper on them. 

Heat up your grill. Place the peppers and onions and the sausage patties on the grill. Cook the sausage patties for five minutes on each side. In the meantime, keep turning your onions and peppers until they become soft. Remove the green peppers and onions when that happens (about 10 minutes).
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Place your sausage patties on the bottom of the bun. Put the peppers and onions on top of each patty, and drizzle with a little ketchup if you’re into that. Top it off with the bun lid, and VOILA! Enjoy your lunch. (We had ours with a side of Ohio City Pasta’s greek pasta salad. It’s so good.)

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