Sunday, December 09, 2007

As I stood in line scanning the menu, I still wasn't sure if I was going to go through with it. The doubt that had been with me the entire walk to the place had swelled into genuine unsureness. My culinary routine is by no means sophisticated, but was this a line I was ready to cross? Was I really ready to embark on consumption of quite possibly the most ridiculous fast food menu item created?

Before diving in I needed some clarification on exactly what it was I'd be putting into my stomach.

"Tell me, what's the difference between the mashed potato bowl and the biscuit bowl?" I asked the fat black lady at the counter as it was my turn to order.

"The biscuit bowl comes with a biscuit," she said matter-of-factly and with a pseudo-southern accent.

That makes perfect sense, I thought to myself.

I stood there debating in my mind whether or not I should go with or without the biscuit. As a kid, I loved these guys' biscuits. And, hell, if I'm gonna put all that other shit in my body, might as well throw in a biscuit.

"All right then, gimme a biscuit bowl," I said with confidence.

The fat black lady turned plodded to the assembly line, grabbed a plastic bowl, plopped a glob of mashed potatoes and another of gravy into it and I turned away in semi-disgust. I was afraid that viewing the actual making of this dish would completely ruin any appetite I had for it. (Note: The kitchens of Kentucky Fried Chickens are not pretty sites, nor are the people that work in them).

I turned back when my order was ready and went to a booth and excitedly took the bowl of it the plastic bag, ripped its lid off and gazed at the pile of processed goodness in front of me.

Where do I start? Do I want a generous scoop of the top layer of corn and cheese? Should I dig deep for a healthy spoonful of mashed potatoes and gravy? Should I pluck out a tender morsel of fried chicken? Or should I pick off a fluffy piece of my biscuit?

I started with the biscuit and worked my way down. With each scoop I hoped for at least some level of level of transcendent flavor (sure, none of this stuff was made with an actually natural ingredients, but that doesn't mean it can't taste good.) But it never really came. Despite being filled with nearly a half dozen different menu items, everything seemed to taste pretty much the same. The biscuit was dull. The cheese had a much flavor as the shredded KRAFT shit you get at the store. The potatoes and gravy, which I remember being full of flavor as a child, tasted like mush. Only the fried chicken nuggets had any discernible taste. Mostly it was just a heap of salt and the seasoning KFC puts on seemingly all of its menu items.

(Another note: If KFC's food doesn't kill you by clogging your arteries with cholesterol, the high blood pressure from all the salt will.)

I wound up not even finishing the thing. Once I got to the bottom layer of mashed potatoes I'd seen enough. The stomach gurgling that continued through the night had already begun.

As I walked back out into the cold night I now realized there are three certainties in life; Death, taxes, and one should never eat at Kentucky Fried Chicken unless they absolutely have to.