I thought I had left enormous breakfasts behind when I fled the Emerald Isle after last spring semester abroad. Those Irish sure had a penchant for piling on the early morning intake of cholesterol with their patented Northern Irish “Ulster Fry” breakfast, featuring fried eggs, fried bacon, fried sausage, fried bread and even fried tomatoes. They also enjoyed pouring Heinz Baked Beans all over the bunch to make the yummy mixture that much better. But here in the United States, we’ve outdone our Celtic brothers.
We’ve managed to create a breakfast monstrosity so fattening it requires a permit to purchase. Well, it will soon, believe me.
I’m of course talking about the correctly named “Enormous Omelet Sandwich” at Burger King. Apparently, the King got jealous when Hardee’s outdid their Whopper in the contest to make a more heart-attack-producing slab of meat when the latter invented the (also properly labeled) “Monster Thick Burger.” BK struck back fiercely by hitting Hardee’s where – or when – it hurts most: in the morning.
So, with a little research, studying, and due analysis of multiple lab tests conducted at the most sophisticated fast food production laboratories, the Burger King scientists have finally developed a Whopper for the breakfast palate – a foot-long “Good Morning” sub containing two slabs of fast-food style scrambled eggs; three chunky strips of my favorite part of the pig, bacon; one layer of sausage burger lining the sucker; and finally, two bright orange slices of American cheese.
I gotta actually hand it to these guys. See, with all the skinny hipster kids running around these days in their tight Dickies pants and equally tight emo-’80s tee-shirts – and their corresponding meager veggie diets consisting of radish wraps and hummus soup – the grease peddlers like Hardee’s and Burger King decided to find their true niche, and their true clientele.
That niche is that of the “taste good but bad for you” food, which serves the real Americana folk of these United States. You know, those guys in cowboy hats and pick up trucks – the men who play football and fix cars, the dudes with potbellies and bottles of Bud at hand, and, of course, anybody else who is just sick and tired of all those nancy pantsy yuppie joints like Panera and Chipotle.
It’s a grand marketing scheme indeed, no doubt about it. At a time in a society that is increasingly getting fatter at the same rate it is increasingly getting more obsessed with getting skinnier, the fast food mongrels are facing extraordinary challenges while raking in the profits. It is somewhat perplexing, but then again, that’s probably just my bizarrely long sentence structure. Really though, it makes perfect sense.
See, fast food has become a necessity, like cell phones. In our fast-moving lifestyle, they offer the only option for lunchtime nourishment aside from carrying around with you a sweaty brown bag filled with yesterday’s meat casserole. We need these grease peddlers whether we know it or not. They are only doing their job to fill our need. We can’t blame them for that.
Yet we do. We harass them for their cost-effective procedures and their labor practices in books like Fast Food Nation. We call them dangerous in movies like Supersize Me. We pick on them for their gross mishaps like that chicken head McDonald’s chicken nugget and that recent Wendy’s fluke with the human finger. We even call them murderers and animal Nazis for making delicious Kentucky Fried Chicken with eight of the Colonel’s original herbs and spices. (Well, at least PETA does, those heartless bastards.)
Worst of all, like Orwell himself predicted in his famous novel of government tyranny, Big Brother persecutes our friendly fast food merchants by pressuring them through government sanctions and restrictions to lower their level of tastiness, or as the government claims, make their foods healthier.
That to me is just scary. I’m already tired of all those losers who smoked themselves to death crying and suing our good ol’ Richmond buddy Philip Morris. Now we have to worry about fat tubs of lard hoping to get free cash for more pork rinds and slim jerkies running off and suing Mickey D’s because – as we all know – Ronald McDonald himself shoved that Big Mac down Suzie’s face at gunpoint.
So I warn you all now: Heed my words and do not do battle with the Burger King or any other quick-serve restaurant establishment. Ask your government to do the same. And hey, if you’re really that hungry, go get yourself one of those Enormous whatevers; it might really hit the spot. Though, personally, I just don’t think it’s such a good way to start the mornin’.
Alex Marra may be reached at marraam@vcu.edu.