Why Did I Eat This?

The Doublicious is to the Double Down what Signs (and according to most people, the rest of the M. Night follow-ups) was to the Sixth Sense, but way worse.  Heading home from a party where I ate more than my fair share of slow cooked pork, home grown tomatoes, and self-cubed pepper jack cheese, there was no reason to subject myself to this, but the perfect storm of a drive-thru and a soundly sleeping baby begged a sharp left turn into the KFC house on City Ave, where the intoxicating aroma of the colonel's cologne (two words that make English extremely difficult for non-native speakers) was the lipstick on an awful pig of a sandwich.  Actually, to call this sandwich a pig is insulting to the pig, so let's just call it a failure.  The marketing materials indicate that the "Doublicious" is named for its sweet and savory tastes, but the only taste I got was crap (singlicious? singlawful?).  It had to have spent some time under the heat lamp.  Both breast and (artificially grill-marked sweet Hawaiian bread) bun were chokeworthy, and it didn't help matters that the "colonel's sauce" was little more than a squirt.  Even the bacon grease couldn't bring it back to life.  The meal is five bucks, which isn't a bad deal, but for the same price, you're better off ordering a couple drumsticks and a side order of headache-inducing mashed potatoes and gravy.  Buen provecho.

More Kentucky Fried Coverage:
KFC Can't Stop, Won't Stop - Phoodie.info
Double Down Follow-up Uses "Sweet Hawaiian Bread" - Huffington Post 
Double Down Showdown: KFC's New Doublicious - Serious Eats

Why Did I Eat This?

If cleanliness is godliness, then what is timeliness?  Beats the shit out of me, because I'm overdue in trying the Double Down.  A week late, but certainly not $7.54 short, which appears to be the going rate for heart disease.  That's for the meal, which comes with potato wedges and a soda.  The sandwich itself is $5.38, enough to make the "lady" who ordered behind me taunt the cashier with threats of "It better be good."  If it were any cheaper, I'd be asking myself more than "Why did I eat this?"  Of course, I do my best to eat first and ask questions later, but by the time I'm done eating, I'd rather take a nap, so most questions go out to pasture.  Regarding WhyDIET? however, the answer lies of course in my own stupid curiosity, but also some goading from the in-laws, one of whom even told me I had fans (note to the rest of you readers: tell me my fans want me to do it, and I may even take the milk bet (again)).  Initial reviews of "it's too greasy" and "it's too spicy" (biter Sam Sifton, Hamburger Calculus, and Mikey Il on Unbreaded) lowered my expectations so far that I was more scared than excited to try it, but the franken-wich that I unboxed was neither.  In fact, it was actually kind of dry.  The teaspoon of Colonel's sauce didn't help matters, nor did the one square inch of bacon that was blanketed by a congealed slice of processed American cheese product.  And much like the rest of KFC's menu, the impending headache grew more intense with each bite as the novelty was quickly replaced with depression.  This was no triumph.  I suppose it's like seeing the musical Cats, or so I've heard. 

Slightly unhealthier than the sandwich was the venue I chose (for its proximity to my office), the food court in the Gallery mall in Philadelphia.  Even in the absence of flash mobs, there's no guarantee you won't get stabbed, which is a shame, because it's got an all-star cast of fast food, including a Golden Krust.  Wherever your local KFC might be (if you have a "local KFC," chances are you've eaten one of these per day since their inception), it wouldn't do all that much harm to try it, if for nothing else than to say you did.  You'll feel slightly dirty afterward, but that feeling fades, especially after a few gin & tonics.  Buen provecho.