Burger King Bonanza (Winter 2016 Edition!)

Dr. Pepper milkshakes, jalapeno chicken fries, greasy garlicky burgers and two varieties of grilled hot dog ... is it fast food heaven, or fast food hell?

By: Jimbo X
JimboXAmerican@gmail.com
@Jimbo__X

Say what you will about Burger King - and whatever it is, it's probably going to be something negative - you at least have to give the other long-running fast food burger joint some credit. When it comes to weird-ass, gimmicky limited-time-only menu offerings, they usually bring the goods in spades. I mean, this is the same chain that gave us spooky steak sauce burgers that turned our turds chartreuse last Halloween, after all. 

Not merely content with tossing out one or two limited time only, novelty foodstuffs, Burger King rolled out a good half dozen specialty items over the 2016 Q1 season, running the gamut from esoteric, co-branded milkshakes to a double dose of grilled wieners to seasoned chicken tenders with packaging that's yay close to being racist. So in short, yeah, they had one HELL of a quarter, I believe it is safe to say. 

So, what all did you miss out on January and February 2016? Here's a quick rundown of a couple of BK gimmicks that - odds are - you are likely to NEVER wrap your lips, tongue and bicuspids around ever again. Hey, you should have waddled your ass on over to the King when you had your chance, amigo...

A DR. PEPPER-FLAVORED MILKSHAKE! 

What on the surface sounds like an utterly disgusting item is actually one of the more surprisingly enjoyable LTO products to come down the BK pipes in quite some time. Granted, the concept of the beverage is hardly anything new - forgive me if I am mistaken, but I am pretty sure people used to call ice cream with soda poured on top of it "floats" - but I really didn't expect America's favorite non-Coke/non-Pepsi carbonated cola to taste as good as it is in congealed dairy form. 

OK, ok, so it does look like a big old swirling puddle of mud (or the surface of Jupiter, depending on how high you are at the time of ingesting it), but flavor-wise, it is actually quite yummy. You get a full, chunky and saccharine (but not too saccharine) kick from the vanilla ice cream and the fizzy, tingly Dr. Pepper addendum gels astonishingly well with it. It's not quite the best way to describe its taste, but imagine a really thick, rich dark cherry ice cream, and that's essentially what you are getting here in liquefied form. Suffice to say, Dr. Pepper clearly works better as a slushy ice cream than it does as a bubble gum flavor. 

JALAPENO CHICKEN FRIES!

Chicken Fries - a longtime seasonal BK product that became a full-time menu offering last summer - have gone through a few variations over the years. The latest is a super spicy mixture, but really, the most important thing here is the packaging ... which, frankly, is about as culturally sensitive as greeting the prime minister of Singapore while stretching your eyelids vertically and making "ching chong ding dong" sounds under your breath. 

Beyond the gloriously stereotypical depiction of a Mexican chicken (complete with a sombrero and maracas), the package is just littered with terrible ethnic puns. Oh, the "I'd Mariachi this flavor" joke above is bad, but I assure you the ones on the other four sides of the packaging are just as groan-inducing, if not worse. How bad are we talking here? "These jalapeño chicken fries are la bomba" - that's how fuckin' bad. 

Alas, while the marketing of the products are, well, dubious, to say the least, you really can't argue with the gustatory quality of the fries themselves (which, to those who aren't in the know, aren't actually fries ... they are really teeny, tiny slivers of breaded chicken, i.e., nuggets shaped like a lower case "l.") They are comparatively spicy, but seeing as how even faux Mexican fast food juggernauts like Taco Bell and Del Taco can't produce a hot sauce worth a darn, it really shouldn't come as a surprise that these items are probably a four, maybe a five on the adjusted, American consumer heat index. And if you are using the actual Scoville scale? Eh, it might break into the third tier from the bottom. If you are feeling particularly generous that evening. 

AN EXTRA LONG BUTTERY CHEESEBURGER!

Burger King has been all about the burger\sub hybrid sandwiches for a while now, and the "extra long buttery cheeseburger" takes the gimmick to its next logical step - that being, a sammich that is pretty much the exact same thing as a normal Whopper, only with the patties decked out side by side inside an Italian roll - but with a shit ton of garlic sauce on top of everything!

Yeah, it is not the most inventive menu addendum they've ever trot out, but on the whole, it is pretty good. As a huge garlicky burger fan, though, I can safely say I have had far better burgers of the like at other establishments - Steak 'n Shake's Garlic Double Steakburger immediately springs to mind - and the melted cheddar cheese tasted a little too plastic. Then again, I did order it from a franchisee that once took 15 minutes to get my two Whopper order correct before, so maybe that's something we can blame on that particular establishment as opposed to the national brand itself. But hey - as long-time IIIA readers can attest to, at least they didn't forget to put a goddamn patty in the bun, as some other BK franchisees are oft prone. 

A CLASSIC GRILLED DOG!

Not since Taco Bell announced its breakfast menu has their been a fast food gamble as big as Burger King's grilled hot dogs. While some elitist dickwad at the New York Post deemed the item "a disgusting disgrace" (although judging from the critic's erroneous description of the dog's toppings, it seems quite likely said dickwad never actually tried the item), the little doggies have proven themselves to be BK's fastest selling menu newcomer in years. How successful, you may be wondering? According to some reports, the aggregate Burger King restaurant is selling between 80 to 120 of the newfangled hot dogs per day.

To be fair, the "classic" hot dog ain't exactly a beauty. Alas, alike many a Bruce Springsteen sexual conquest, "that's all right," though, because as unsightly as the product may be, it doesn't really taste all that bad. You get ketchup, you get mustard, you get onions and you get relish, and yes, the wieners themselves are indeed grilled (or, in this case, a bit on the scorched side.) Yeah, it doesn't come close to the hot dogs offered by Sonic and Checkers/Rally's, but it is certainly better than most gas station hot dogs. And yes, I know that's a really backhanded compliment, but coming from a guy who actually kind of likes gas station food, that's nowhere near as big a slight as it sounds. 

A CHILI CHEESE GRILLED DOG!

Next to Sonic the Hedgehog, there probably isn't a bigger fan of chili dogs than me. This is apparent by all of the re-pins my recipe for veggie chili dogs has gotten on Pinterest - which, presumably, means the masses really like my taste when it comes to good old fashioned, artery-clogging white trash cuisine. Which, naturally, makes Burger King's take on the time-tested county carnival/trailer park favorite all the more disappointing. 

First off, it isn't a terrible item. It is certainly edible, and if you are half-starved, it will certainly fix you right up. That said, nothing about the dog really felt authentic; the cheese tasted like it was imitation-brand and the chili was like, ALDI-quality and shit. If you are looking for a chili cheese dog fix, there are certainly far better fast food options at your disposal - like, any of them. 

To summarize? The Dr. Pepper milkshake was surprisingly good, the jalapeño fries were fairly decent despite offending everyone of Hispanic origin, the extra long buttery cheeseburger was just sort of meh, the classic hot dog is certainly serviceable and the chili cheese dog is a huge letdown. So, yeah, in terms of gustatory quality, it is a real mixed bag, but you know what? Sometimes, you just get a hankering for slightly above mediocre different over well above average normal. Can you get far better food at other restaurants? Without question. But as far as lower-class, unhealthy, edible ephemerality goes, it is hard to beat the uncultured, saturated fat-soaked fast food fugaciousness the fine folks at the King have given us over the last three months. 

And for that dedication to novelty consumer experience, I gently tip my paper crown to them. 

Read More

The Burger King Halloween Whopper!

It's one of the most remarkable seasonal items to come along in quite some time ... and also, it appears to turn your turds teal. 

By: Jimbo X
JimboXAmerican@gmail.com
@Jimbo__X

In 2014, Burger King unveiled not just one but two limited-time-only "black Whoppers" in Japan -- both of which featured bamboo charcoal-darkened cheese and a heaping helping of squid ink. 

Even in a world where one can walk into a store and buy Oreos-flavored Oreos, that idea might just be a bit too weird for Obama's America. Nonetheless, the core concept -- a big, midnight-hued hamburger -- was something that certainly appealed to today's fast-food-loving masses. After all, this is a country that gobbled up a hot dog and potato chip-stuffed sammich by the truckload over the summer ... a chemically dyed bun is relatively mundane in comparison. 

Eschewing the squid ink, the Americanized "black Whopper" is instead imbued with A1 steak sauce, which is not only "baked" into the buns, but also generously splashed all over your meats, cheeses and veggies wedged in between them.

Burger King is no doubt promoting the shit (and more on that, literally, a bit later) heavily. They've even modified their time-honored paper-crowns to feature a more foreboding, Day of the Dead-like design. Granted, the thing does look more than a little out of place next to the overpriced glass-case cookies and Chicken Fries cut-outs, but then again, it is Halloween -- normalcy is not expected, nor necessarily wanted. 

As a dude with an unabashed admiration of both the All Hallow's Eve season and mass-marketed, terribly unhealthy food stuffs (with a minor in consumer marketing psychology), of course I wanted to give the newfangled "Ha1loween Whopper" a try. (You see what they did there? By changing the "al" following the H in "Halloween" to the name of product co-sponsor "A1," Burger King actually promotes a portmanteau, if you will, of the steak sauce provider and ties it back into the seasonal theme via a thematically appropriate pun. So yeah, some dude who went to Harvard probably got paid $800,000 to dream that one up.) Alas, beyond the flashy, in-house digital screen advertisements and all of the neat cardboard accouterments, did the product itself actually live up to all of the highfalutin hype? 

(And yes, the fully assembled crown doth indeed look, as the kids today say it, tubular and quite bitchin'.)

In terms of sheer aesthetics, this thing is a five-star, 10-out-of-10, walk-off-grand slam. It's not just that Burger King is selling a limited-time-only variation of their marquee product in a seasonally-fitting onyx casing, it's also the way in which the product is presented, too. If the bones-themed Burger King crowns weren't enough to get you in the autumnal mood, the fucking wrapper would, for sure...

Holy shit, you literally have to unwrap a mummy to eat it. It's such an incredibly small -- and frankly, a functionally unnecessary detail -- but it just adds so much to the overall experience. All in all, this wrapper might just be my favorite thing about the product as a whole -- I totally didn't expect to peer into my paper bag and find a freaking Universal Monster peeping back at me, and for that, I applaud Burger King to no end.

But, what about the burger itself? Well, let's take a closer look at the product, why don't we? 

For those wondering, yes, this thing is very much a traditional Whopper, which tastes indistinguishable from the daily menu item that is devoured en masse throughout America. Strangely, the A1 mix-in doesn't really alter the taste of the burger all that much. In fact, it took about three or four big bites before I even noticed that it had a particularly steak saucy texture and taste to it. 

It's really hard to tell from the photographs, but really, the bun itself isn't 100 percent black. In fact, it's actually more of a dark brown M&M color, but it's kind of hard to mass-market "the all-new dark auburn Whopper," I take it. Taste-wise, it does seem to feel a little soggier and softer than your standard sesame seed bun, but at the same time, I didn't really detect a particularly strong A1 vibe, either. 

No matter your take on the culinary desirability of such a product, there is no denying that it takes some time to adjust to it. Perhaps owing to generations and generations of white patriarchy-fueled racism, we've kind of been conditioned to not find black foodstuffs attractive. Sure, you can say that's out of indisputable molecular biology and the fact that most rotten and fungal-infected foods turn black, but I know systematic prejudice when I see it, smell it and taste it. (Also, in the above photo, the more I stare at it, the more it resembles one of the titular creatures from Alien puking up a Big Mac. I honestly have no idea if that's points off, or points for.) 

And, of course, you're interior meal is the expected jumble of iceberg lettuce, thinly sliced tomatoes, non-fried onion rings, mayonnaise and char-grilled beef, topped off by a dainty dollop of A1 paste. So yeah, if you like the basic Whopper -- and just as long as you don't have a severe aversion to steak sauce -- you will probably enjoy this one quite a bit. Also, do you think that the steak sauce theme is perhaps an oblique homage to blood-soaked slasher favorites like Friday the 13th and Halloween? Eh ... probably not. 

Which brings us to that which cannot be ignored regarding the Halloween Whopper: namely, the fact that it turns your feces a nice bluish-green hue after digesting them (Warning: this shit ... literally ... is NSFW.) 

Fundamentally, this is nothing new with food coloring-tinted items (lest we forget the famed Boo Berry Spatters, which are pretty much a seasonal hallmark up there with It's the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown around my parts.) Alas, it appears that not that many Americans are not as familiar with such a phenomenon ... and perhaps it is a brilliant marketing move on Burger King's part to expand the product's penetration in the national (sub?)conscious. [An interesting side note: apparently, the burger's squid ink counterpart in Japan didn't result in the same external consequences.]

Considering the deluge of extra media attention that little "feature" has afforded BK, methinks it's not an altogether unplanned part of the P.R. putsch ... you just know somebody had to have noticed something in the test market runs (pun, oh my god, so intended)and figured it would make for some incredible after-market word of mouth advertising. 

"Come try the all-new, limited-edition Halloween Whopper, kiddos," I imagine one of the tongue-in-cheek early slogans beginning, "it's just as much fun coming out as it is going in!

BONUS HAPPY GOOD TIME FUN EXTRA ADDITIONAL MATERIAL!

The Burger King Pumpkin Spice Oreos Milkshake!

You really can't have a special, seasonal, limited-edition food product without also having a corresponding seasonal, limited-edition beverage to accompany it. I think it is in the Bill of Rights somewhere, between that part about not having to let British soldiers sleep in your house and black people only counting as 66.7 percent people in the electorate. 


Which brings us to BK's Pumpkin Spice Oreos Milkshake, which is ... well, pretty much exactly what it sounds like. 

Now, from the nomenclature, you may be tempted to regard this is a special dairy-dessert comprised of bits of the proprietary, seasonal Pumpkin Spice Oreos. Alas, if you though that, you would be wrong as a mother fucker, as this product is actually a standard vanilla milkshake, loaded with ample bits of crumbled up sandwich cookie, and tinted orange with an unusual pumpkin spice-like fluid.

I know this is going to sound like the most backhanded compliment ever, but this thing tastes just like a delicious pumpkin spice-scented candle. Go ahead, walk into a Pier One or a Yankee Candle, get a whiff of one of their autumnal-themed wax decorations, and slurp on this bad boy, and just tell me they aren't one and the same, chemically. While the general idea of sucking down a milkshake that kind of tastes like a puree of incense and air freshener may sound like a thumbs down review, it's actually far from it: somehow, someway, Burger King has mass produced one of the yummiest, tastiest foodstuffs ever that doesn't actually taste like it should be edible whatsoever.

It's a controversial perspective, to be sure, but I reckon I liked this here milkshake variation ... which, depending on the lighting, looks almost indistinguishable from the gaseous surface of Jupiter ... is an even better seasonal tie-in product than the Halloween Whopper. Sure, the minstrel-show burger is cool and all, but its really nothing more than the same old same old, just dyed a different color. This, on the other hand, tastes unlike any fast food beverage I have ever slaked upon. As mystifying and bewildering as the Halloween Whopper may be, this is the enigmatic, and strangely unheralded, L.T.O. food item that Burger King ought to be marketing the hell out of in the run-up to Oct. 31. 

Give it a try if you haven't, fellow fast food connoisseurs ... this thing is destined to become a cult favorite in a few years time. 

Read More

McDonalds Shamrock Shakes!

Forget the Harlem Shake…we all know there’s just ONE kinda’ shake worth talking about this time of year!

I have lived a fairly sheltered life, you know. Here I am, damn near thirty, and as I was driving through the quasi-suburban hinterlands, it suddenly dawns upon me: “Hey, you know what I’ve never actually tried before? A Shamrock Shake from McDonald's!”

For all the Tea in Russia and Rubbles in China, I couldn’t possibly fathom how I’ve managed to go this guldang long without trying one of Mickie D’s (the “D,” I have heard, is short for “diabetes”) proprietary, emerald-hued milk-like shake thingies. I mean, just take a gander at this here mid 1980s television commercial, which does a better job of selling the novelty beverage than anything that has ever been sold to anybody, in history:

The commercial logic here is all but unshakable (pun, wholly intended.) How good is the Shamrock Shake from McDonald's? Well, it’s so good, that it can actually CHANGE your ethnicity into one that’s probably a kinda’-offensive stereotype. If only McDonald's’ world-renown marketing team could invest that sorta’ industrious creativity into its breakfast burrito marketing blitzkrieg, who knows what kinda’ fantastic adverts we ought receive?

So, McDonald's. I have to admit, I’m not a huge fan of their food line-up (even though, as we all know, their seasonal Halloween premiums, back in the day, anyway, we’re all kinds of awesome) and my experiences there over the last decade have been really, really limited. Picking up my first-ever Shamrock Shake was pretty much the first time I have walked into the restaurant and eaten something since 9/11, and hoo boy, has the sociological and technological dynamics a-changed something fierce.

First off, the menus. THEY ARE ALL DIGITAL VIDEO SCREENS AND STUFF. It’s like something out of “Blade Runner,” really: you walk in, and you are just BOMBARDED by audio-visual advertisements. Keep in mind, you are ALREADY in the gosh-damn store, so it’s not like they really need to put any effort in getting you to buy something there. I suppose it’s a plus for society that the restaurant now lists the caloric value of its foodstuffs out in the open, but at the same time, I really can’t help but wonder if the cerebral impact of that incessant, AV advertising onslaught isn’t doing just as much psychological harm as the deep-fried, onion-cheese, double-triple-quadruple Angus burger is doing to its patrons’ arteries.

Secondly, the employee force was almost ENTIRELY Hispanic. Even some of the signage there was posted in double language, so for those of you wondering if America is on the fast-track to becoming a bilingual, Quebec-and-Everybody Else kinda’ social state…eh, probably not.

I don’t know if you’re local McDonald's is putting as much effort into hyping the Shamrock Shake, but my nearest chain was pulling out ALL THE STOPS to remind you that, hey, they have Shamrock Shakes there. I counted no less than FIVE advertisements encircling the parameter of the building trumpeting the limited-return of the seasonal item, and probably twice as many once I entered the restaurant. Outside of hiring a dude to dress up like a Shamrock Shake, that runs up to your car and throws a Shamrock Shake at you while screaming “Shamrock Shake!” over and over, I don’t think it’s humanly possible for the advertising of the product to get any more blunt.

I opted to get the smallest shake the chain offered, which was still pretty large. The largest container, I believe, was an eight gallon oil drum, which was only 29 cents more expensive than the teeniest cup on sale. Not that it’s an example of marketing hypnosis, or anything.

To be fair, I was a little put off when my cashier simply ambled over towards the ice cream maker, flipped a switch, and out came my allegedly-delicious, green-colored milk drink. I mean, you would figure that something like that would require some sort of special sauce, or some new kind of milkshake technology, or even a special refrigeration unit, but no. Outside of the top coat of flavoring, you’re dealing with pretty much the basic milkshake ingredients, which are probably shit you wouldn’t like to know about.

Aesthetically, the Shamrock Shake looks as beautiful as you would imagine it to be. It’s a really nice shade of light green, with plenty of creamy, white foam and the two hues mix together rather harmoniously. If you’ve ever looked at a lava lamp and curiously had an urge to drink it, then you, my friend, will absolutely ADORE the Shamrock Shake.

There’s really not a whole lot to say about the packaging. It’s clear, translucent, and doesn’t say anything specifically about the Shamrock Shake itself. It’s very subdued, and portable, and otherwise unremarkable. That’s a good thing, I guess, as far as convenience goes, but who wouldn’t want a little excessive, ‘80s kitsch to lug around, either?

And, the moment of truth. After 27.3 years of life on Earth, what did I make of my first Shamrock Shake experience?

…Yeah, it was just kinda’ all right. Don’t get me wrong, I didn’t think it was a bad beverage in ANY way shape or form, just that it was a little too flavorful for my liking. How can that possibly be, you might ask? Well, imagine having someone drop a recently (but still flavorful) wad of chewed spearmint gum into your milkshake, and sipping the aftermath. For all intents and purposes -- sans the risk of mono, of course -- that’s EXACTLY what the Shamrock Shake tastes like.

Even so, it’s hard to knock the overall product, I reckon. As you plow through your novelty beverage, the super-hardcore mint taste begins to give way to a more traditional milkshake taste, and it isn’t too bad. Granted, there are FAR better options out there for you to sip and slurp, but then again, it’s March, it’s something green, and the nonstop adverts are basically mind-raping you to try one.

The Shamrock Shake. I’ve tried one, I was largely unimpressed, and that was it. Story of my life, really.

Read More