Food Crime - 3- The Colonel’s Pastry Mistake
Hey everyone— it’s been a while. I haven’t been overly active on the blog as of late (due in part to other creative projects), so I decided to treat you all to something really special.
KFC recently hit one so far out of the park it circumnavigated the Earth and found its way back into the park via a back entrance that no one was keeping a close enough eye on. That’s right- I’m talking about KFC’s Chicken and Donut Sandwich, a monstrosity brought about by, I can only assume, some horrible science experiment gone horribly awry.
The first thing that came to mind when I cast my unfortunate gaze upon this eldritch horror of a food was “is that it?” because, let’s face it Colonel, you just put some bad chicken between two donuts. The sandwich itself is pretty simple, but the things it made me feel were so incredibly complex that I’m having trouble putting them into words.
One thing that really amazed me about KFC’s shame sandwich was just how tall the thing was. It had to be at least four inches high and was so unruly that the poor cashier who tasked me with somehow consuming it also supplied me (unprompted) with a knife and fork. It was also incredibly wet. Like this thing was dripping glaze all over me, the tray it came on, the table I was at, and I’m sure somehow the other patrons of the KFC were somehow drenched in it because, and I cannot stress this enough, you will get wet on this ride. It came in one of those cardboard little burger houses and by the end of my experience (I refuse to call it a meal) the cardboard house was full of chicken-flavored donut glaze soup.
The thing itself tasted like a recently-divorced man who just lost his children and had to move cross-country in order to keep his job was sitting on his suitcase in a Seattle airport eating a Cinnabon when he thought to himself “this doesn’t make me sad enough,” so he called up the saddest establishment he could think of and pitched to them an idea for the very first anti-food (that is, something technically edible but scientifically designed to make you feel like you will simultaneously never be hungry but also never be satisfied again) and said establishment was like “oh yeah man we can make that happen,” and then not only did it, but made it over a thousand calories, too.
I can’t wholly put into words what I felt like after eating (and yeah I’m ashamed to admit this) the whole damn thing, but luckily I was able to grab a quick selfie while in the bathroom trying to figure out how to have a bath in the sink.
My final verdict is that readers of this blog should avoid any KFC establishments, and perhaps the state of Kentucky itself just to be safe, until this promotion ends. I can only assume that at some point some old god will rise up out of the depths of whatever hell Kentuckians believe in and take back what is rightfully his, simultaneously destroying all KFC locations in the process. One can only hope, anyway.