Food: A Love Story (30 page)

Given all children’s obsession with McDonald’s, we shouldn’t
be surprised that their spokesman is a clown. In a way it feels like they are mocking us, the consumer.

“Who should our spokesman be? Burger King has a king.”

“It doesn’t matter. These idiots are going to come here no matter what.”

“How about a rat?”

“No, not a rat. Too cute. What really freaks out little children more than a rat?”

“Um, a witch, a clown, a weatherman …”

“Let’s go with a clown with a creepy weatherman vibe.”

McDonald’s used to have a whole group of spokespeople. The Hamburglar, Grimace, Mayor McCheese, and others. I was never sure what Grimace was or why he was named after a pained facial expression. Maybe he represented the look on everyone’s face after they ate McDonald’s. Whatever the case may be, all the spokesmen disappeared except for Ronald McDonald. I think we have our suspect. Someone needs to call Detective Olivia Benson. Maybe they did a reality show elimination of spokespeople and Ronald won. More likely, it was a Destiny’s Child situation. Ronald was the breakout. The entertainment manager for McDonald’s characters was like, “Hey, you guys are all great. Grimace, Hamburglar, Mayor, we love what you guys do, but we’re thinking of going with just Ronald for a while. Maybe we’ll do a reunion tour at some point.”

All clowning aside, somehow McDonald’s gets us in there. We know those McDonald’s commercials are not realistic. I’d just like to see one commercial that showed people five minutes after they’d actually eaten McDonald’s. “Ugh, now I need a cigarette. I deserve a cigarette break today.” Yet we keep going back because the one thing McDonald’s does well besides fries is consistency. You know how much it’s going to cost. You know how long it’s going to take. You even know how sick you are going to feel after you eat it. We are also lured in by the McDonald’s
deals that are so good they seem cruel. “Two Big Macs for Two Bucks.” I drive by and think,
Well I don’t want to lose money on this. I’ll get eighty of them.
We are further lured by the promotional games like Monopoly, even though we have no possibility of winning. “I got Boardwalk. All I need is sixty-three more pieces. You know, I could probably make some money here.” During the Olympics, commercials tell us that eating at McDonald’s is a way of winning free food and supporting Team USA. It’s like our own private decathlon of unhealthy eating.

There also used to be McDonald’s gift certificates. There was even a commercial where people were hanging McDonald’s gift certificates on their Christmas trees, just as Jesus would’ve wanted. When I was ten years old I was actually given McDonald’s gift certificates for Christmas by my mom. Yes, my own mother. I guess she couldn’t find gift certificates for a vending machine. I like to think it was her way of saying, “Merry Christmas. Here are some coupons for poison.” McDonald’s introduced the gift certificate prior to the obesity epidemic. I’m not saying that McDonald’s gift certificates caused the obesity epidemic, but in retrospect, the timing is kind of suspicious. It was a more innocent time back then. I remember there was another commercial where a kid gave Santa Claus a gift certificate. These days there would probably be public outrage and a demand that Santa be given a gym membership instead. “It’s abusive and enabling to give that to an obvious food addict.”

I’m sure some of you are reading this and thinking,
Sorry, white-trashy guy. I don’t eat at McDonald’s.
I have friends who brag to me about
not
going to McDonald’s. “I would
never
go to McDonald’s.” I always think,
Well, McDonald’s wouldn’t want you because you’re a jerk.
I’m tired of people acting like they are better than McDonald’s. You may’ve never set foot in a McDonald’s, but you have your own McDonald’s.
Maybe instead of buying a Big Mac, you read
US Weekly
. That’s just a different type of McDonald’s. It’s just served up a little differently. Maybe your McDonald’s is telling yourself your Starbucks Frappuccino is
not
a milkshake, or maybe you watch those
Real-Housewives
-of-some-large-city shows. It’s all McDonald’s. It’s McDonald’s of the soul: momentary pleasure followed by incredible guilt, eventually leading to cancer. We all have our own McDonald’s. It may take me a decade to digest my Quarter Pounder with Cheese, but that tramp stamp is forever. In a way, it’s all McDonald’s out there in our society. Why can everyone name three people who have dated Jennifer Aniston? It’s McDonald’s! And we gobble it up just like those McDonald’s fries. “Who’s she dating now? Yum, yum, yum. I know I shouldn’t, but it’s so salty! Yum, yum, yum. Is she pregnant yet? That’s not even my business! Yum, yum, yum. Scarlett Johansson got a haircut! Why do I even a care?” Because it’s McDonald’s!
McDonald’s of the soul.
By the way, if you actually care about the British royal family, that’s Burger King. That’s not even
our
gossip.

I truly enjoy the societal outrage directed at McDonald’s: “McDonald’s food has no nutritional value! There are no vitamins!” I always imagine McDonald’s’ confused reaction to be “Um, excuse me? We sell burgers and fries. We never said we were a farmers’ market. Heck, our spokesman is a pedophile clown from the ’70s. What do you want from us, America?”

We treat McDonald’s horribly. We behave like hormonal teenagers dealing with their parents. “I hate you! You’re gross! When’s dinner? I have some friends coming over.” Really, going to McDonald’s is similar to attending a
family reunion. You’re initially always excited to go. “This is going to be great.” Then, after you’re there for a while you think,
I don’t know if I should be here.
Then, when you’re driving back from the family reunion you’re thinking,
I’m going to kill myself. I can’t believe I had to eat with that clown in the room.

We shouldn’t be so ungrateful. McDonald’s has given us so much. We wouldn’t know when breakfast ends without McDonald’s. I’d be eating eggs at 5:00 p.m. like a moron. Thank you, McDonald’s. How would we know Saint Patrick’s Day is coming up without the Shamrock Shake? Thank you, McDonald’s. Who’s going to keep all the cardiac surgeons employed? Thank you, McDonald’s.

Burger King

The thin, healthy, smart people are really missing out on some horrible food at Burger King. It’s so ironic that Burger King is called Burger King when McDonald’s is the true king of the burgers. Burger King is the imposter king. I realize there are likely Burger King fans reading this right now who will vehemently disagree, but my whole view toward Burger King seems to be an ongoing “What are they thinking?” It’s not as if I have that high of a standard for fast-food places, but it seems like Burger King purposely does it worse. Like when they are planning the recipe for their burgers and fries, the taste testers are saying: “No, no, no. This tastes too good. It has to be way more flavorless. Remember our motto, ‘Not as good as McDonald’s’? Let’s stick with that, people!”

Recently Burger King, a place that sells mostly burgers and fries, introduced the French Fry Burger, a burger with fries tucked under the top bun. Now, I know this concept has been done very well in some of my favorite regional sandwich shops, but on a burger at a fast-food burger place? It seems staggeringly uncreative. How lazy do they think we are? I’m pretty sure every single fast-food consumer at one time in their life put some French fries on a burger, usually when they were
eight. Not a proud moment in anyone’s life, but at least we didn’t dedicate millions of advertising dollars toward telling people that it was an innovative new product called the French Fry Burger. I think you can order extra shame with the French Fry Burger. I guess “Have it your way” means “Have it the way you thought of doing it when you were eight.”

Wendy’s

If McDonald’s is the one true king of burgers, then Wendy’s is the king slayer. Wendy’s is just my all-time favorite of the big fast-food chains. It’s the high-end McDonald’s. In my heart I know it’s fast food, but I always think of Wendy’s as a real restaurant. They have a salad bar, chili, and free crackers. Maybe it’s the fresh, never-frozen ground beef. Maybe I’m drawn in by the “old-fashioned” slogan. Maybe it’s that smiling face of the sweet, red-haired girl looking at me like, “Hi, I’m pale too. I’m your people. Now come on in and make yourself at home.” Wendy’s is the other woman in my life, playing hard to get with her delicious Frosty. Wendy’s Frosties, like the White Witch in
Narnia
, are dangerous. They are too thick to be a shake and served in a cup so that we can deny we are eating six scoops of melted ice cream. The Wendy’s Frosty goes down way too fast and easy. I have yet to eat a Frosty without getting a crippling brain freeze, or, as I call it, “the Frosty Headache.” Wendy’s is the best. I sometimes walk by Wendy’s and think,
Shoot, I wish I didn’t just eat.
But then I just get a Double anyway.

White Castle

Some people make fun of White Castle, and these people are called everyone. White Castle is just too easy of a target for comedy. They are famous for their sliders, and their initials are
W.C., as in “water closet.” Insert punch line.
Sack
is an actual unit of measure in the kingdom of White Castle, as well as the way you will measure yourself after eating at White Castle. You can get a “sack” of Sliders, a “sack” of Chicken Rings, a “sack” of Clam Dippers, and, of course, a “sack” of Fish Nibblers. Are they serious? I’m not describing the products sold at the Krusty Krab in a
SpongeBob
episode. These products are really on the menu at White Castle, along with, for some reason, applesauce. I assume the applesauce is made fresh in individual restaurants with the same utensils they use to make the Clam Dippers. If any place is up to code on cleanliness, it’s White Castle. Good ol’ White Castle applesauce. I’m sure I’m not the only person who’s thought to himself,
I could go for some applesauce. Well, off to White Castle.

I recently walked into the White Castle near beautiful Penn Station in New York City for lunch because I care that little about being alive. It had been a couple of decades since my
last visit to the kingdom, so I was surprised to see that White Castle was still in business and even open during the day. I just assumed White Castles were legally allowed to be open only during those early-morning hours after all the bars in the city have closed, since there is a direct correlation between binge drinking and eating at White Castle. I was even more shocked to discover that the Penn Station White Castle offered seating for people to eat the White Castle food in the restaurant. I had never seen this before. I always assumed White Castle intentionally didn’t provide seating because they didn’t want you in the room when the Sliders kicked in.

There are many other fast-food burger chains. Here’s a quick overview:

In-N-Out:
The California Shake Shack. Amazing fast-food burger, which is actually embraced by celebrity chefs and the good-looking me. Anyplace where you can get a burger “animal style” (cooked in a thin layer of mustard) is a place of magic.

Steak ’n Shake:
This is one of the better ones, but it could be that I am just imagining it because the name is so good.

Jack in the Box:
You have to admire the audacity of a place that serves a burger with something called “Jack sauce.”

Roy Rogers:
Roy Rogers was one of America’s favorite cowboy singers. I only view Roy Rogers as a place to go when I’m looking for a fast-food place more disappointing than Burger King.

Sonic/Rally’s/Checkers:
These places are great for people who really like to eat in their car.

Whataburger:
The Texas Carl’s Jr.

Carl’s Jr.:
The West Coast Whataburger

Hardee’s:
The southern Carl’s Jr.

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