Big Mac

Big Mac at McDonald's

mcdonalds.com

F

Although I am weak and occasionally give in to fast food urges, I loathe McDonald's and consider it an entirely evil entity. Whenever I hear or tell stories about eating McDonald's, they always revolve around extreme circumstances or limited availability of actual food, as in "I was in the middle of nowhere and there was nothing to eat but fucking McDonald's." If that's my situation, I will almost always go the royale with cheese route. But for our purposes here at MZ, it seems only proper that we address one of the most consumed and iconic sandwiches in America, for better or for worse. To truly discover and savor exceptional sandwiches, we must absorb what is considered average and commonplace. And so, the Big Mac.

Ignoring the taste, the structure of this sandwich is excessive, and problematic, and excessively problematic. There is an extra bun in the middle, which is unfortunate because neither of the other buns contribute any taste. The lettuce is shredded iceberg, and the pickles, one of the predominant flavors, are less than firm. So your three textural contrasts are pretty much shit. The melted American "cheese," pickles and special sauce -- the latter more mayonnaisish than Thousand Islandy -- combine to form a new, unholy flavor that defies description. Let's call it "Big Mac." It is strong, tangy, gooey and sweet, and it overpowers any beefy flavor that might sneak out of one of these thin, rubbery meat patties. It even out-funks the diced white onion shards.

The only thing more preposterous than the popularity of the Big Mac is the creation of the Big Mack Snack Wrap, the same ingredients rolled up in some wicked fabrication of a tortilla. Don't worry, I'm not going to try it. Hopefully it was a limited time item that will disappear.