McGriddle
Emperor Augustus managed to keep the people of Rome happy by adopting the strategy of "bread and circuses", i.e. enough food and entertainment to keep them happy. In these days of the American empire, and in the pseudo-intellectual spirit of adventurism, I decided to investigate the modern-day equivalent of Roman bread within the ubiquitous symbol of imperial dominance: McDonald's. Not any McDonald's, oh no- McDonald's in the land from which it spawned.
This morning, some unfamiliar on the menu caught my eye: the McGriddle. The novelty of experiencing the unknown could not be suppressed, so $2.85 was forked out, the hash brown set aside and the bundle eagerly unwrapped.
It was intimidating. The greaseproof paper had been defeated by the volume of grease in this baby and had become translucent. Not only could fat be wrung out of the bread, there were dark foreign objects within its matrix, which upon further investigation turned out to be little globules of maple syrup. The egg was like no egg I have ever seen: it had the appearance of a oleaginous floppy styrofoam sheet folded twice over into a perfect square. A familiar cheese slice and sausage patty finished off what was essentially the ingredients of an entire Big Breakfast (including pancakes) assembled into the handy approximation of a burger. In a final flourish, the stack was branded top and bottom with the McDonald's "M"-blem, just to make sure you had no doubt who concieved this chimera.
Initially, it was not unpleasant tasting, as it hits all the spots that grease, meat and carbohydrate naturally strike within the hungry. But by the second or third bite you begin to realise that this is really not good for you: the syrup globules explode like heart-attack inducing bombs when chomped; the liquid fat condenses within the mouth, depositing an unpleasant paste upon the tongue. It's hard to believe that something sold as food can leave you feeling so ill once consumed; it feels like the more you eat the sooner you will die.
Conclusion: don't eat this. It's for poor people who don't know this kind of food will kill them. Yuk.
Watch out for the upcoming update on "Circuses", featuring the worst team in the NBA: the Atlanta Hawks- fresh from a 12 game losing streak. Go Hawks!
This morning, some unfamiliar on the menu caught my eye: the McGriddle. The novelty of experiencing the unknown could not be suppressed, so $2.85 was forked out, the hash brown set aside and the bundle eagerly unwrapped.
It was intimidating. The greaseproof paper had been defeated by the volume of grease in this baby and had become translucent. Not only could fat be wrung out of the bread, there were dark foreign objects within its matrix, which upon further investigation turned out to be little globules of maple syrup. The egg was like no egg I have ever seen: it had the appearance of a oleaginous floppy styrofoam sheet folded twice over into a perfect square. A familiar cheese slice and sausage patty finished off what was essentially the ingredients of an entire Big Breakfast (including pancakes) assembled into the handy approximation of a burger. In a final flourish, the stack was branded top and bottom with the McDonald's "M"-blem, just to make sure you had no doubt who concieved this chimera.
Initially, it was not unpleasant tasting, as it hits all the spots that grease, meat and carbohydrate naturally strike within the hungry. But by the second or third bite you begin to realise that this is really not good for you: the syrup globules explode like heart-attack inducing bombs when chomped; the liquid fat condenses within the mouth, depositing an unpleasant paste upon the tongue. It's hard to believe that something sold as food can leave you feeling so ill once consumed; it feels like the more you eat the sooner you will die.
Conclusion: don't eat this. It's for poor people who don't know this kind of food will kill them. Yuk.
Watch out for the upcoming update on "Circuses", featuring the worst team in the NBA: the Atlanta Hawks- fresh from a 12 game losing streak. Go Hawks!
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