Angus Among Us

I spent 5th through 7th grade without a refrigerator because my parents needed it at the restaurant. During those years, my father's last name was McDonald, my stepsister was Wendy (R.I.P. Dave Thomas), and we were all best friends with Colonel Sanders. Such were the formative adolescent years. Take out was my norm. But instead of burning out on fast food, I grew to love it, and even now at the risk of a sour stomach, I'll stuff my face with it. I look forward to new and exciting sandwich offerings whenever they happen to show up on TV, and as soon as they're available, I'm on the "Order Here" line.

McDonald's latest offering, the Third Pound Angus Burger, has been on my mind for a couple weeks now. Initially, I told myself I didn't need it, that it was going to be terrible, but the commercials broke my will, and finally after bringing lunch for ten consecutive days, I made my way to the closest of the three McDonald's by my office.

No photo documentation, but needless to say, it looks nothing like the commercial. I'm fine with this. I have a very thick skin when it comes to the variation between the ads and the actual. It is rather large as the commercials suggest, but that's the problem. For some reason, the larger sandwich size made for a dry burger. I kept having to drink soda to wash it down, and I was out of Diet Coke before I was even halfway through. Fighting my way through the other half, I made the following mental notes:

1) Angus Shmangus. I think the only way they could call this Angus beef is if the cows they got it from were all named Angus. Even if it was Angus, it tasted exactly like the Quarter Pounder, only more dry. Why is this any better than the rest of the McDonald's sandwiches?

2) I ordered the Deluxe model and got the Bacon and Cheese. Not a bad trade, but premade fast food bacon has the consistency and color of cinnamon bubble gum. I was also disappointed because I was curious to see if there was any improvement on the McDonald's produce since the McDLT.

3) Why am I eating this? Oh yeah, marketing.

4) If only for the french fries, this is totally worth the 8,000 calories I'm consuming.

All in all, a typical value meal from the alleged front runner of the fast food game. Nothing spectacular, but nothing terrible, save for my sour stomach. I challenge anyone to top the Wendy's Monterey Ranch Chicken Sandwich, my personal favorite.