The Death of the Hamburger

In 1940 the first McDonald’s restaurant opened in America, and 67 years later I found myself walking into what now had become the biggest culinary concept in the world. How this franchise had done so well over the decades was a mystery to me. It was plausible to assume that six decades ago the food at MickyD’s was of admirable quality and taste. Unfortunately quality is an attribute that seems to dilute over time. An even greater mystery to me was why I insisted on coming back to Mcdonald’s. What was it about the place? Was it the clown within me? Ronald Cunt Mcdonald? Regret was an ingredient in my burger. With every mouthful I felt that I had just wasted my money to deal with a hunger that deserved better. And after I had finally thrown the trash in the bin and put the tray at the designated area, I stood outside and allowed myself a moment of flatulence to commemorate how the Big Mac only sated until you dislodged gas either anally or orally.

On my way back home, I started to think about how the hamburger had died. How the simple and well known configuration of ingredients consisting of a juicy patty with ketchup, onions and other condiments embraced in the mercy of a fluffy bun had become nothing more but a ghost of the past. Macdonald’s had monopolised the image of the hamburger and convinced collective humanity, except for a few, that the Big Mac was the avatar of the famous sandwich.
I was disgusted with how the Big Mac was a tidy, “low-carb” and non-greasy burger, and glorified by Ronald, who had never grown bald like normal clowns. Our society had become obsessed with the trend of eating healthier and exercising regularly. And while I was all for that approach to life, it struck me as being some bullshit that the media was feeding the public: “It’s junk but it’s healthy”. Junk food was junk food. If you went out for a burger, it should be the sole intention of being greasy and unhealthy.

There were many burger joints out there trying to stay faithful to original hamburger concept. Personally, I hadn’t found that one place that could recreate the magic of that greasy sandwich from my childhood. Many would get close but never quite capture it. Maybe it was the bread or maybe the meat. It was hard to say, but I would keep searching. I was sure that the signature taste was still out there. I could feel it. Indeed, it was out there waiting to be resurrected…