Have you ever eaten anything that left you feeling angry? Because that’s all I can feel after eating Burger King’s three new Whoppers. Mind you, I’m a professional fast-food critic, so I did not walk into BK with unrealistic expectations. And I know that it’s possible to make a value-priced sandwich that’s surprisingly excellent, as McDonald’s does with its fresh beef Quarter Pounders and Popeyes with its chicken sandwiches.
For many folks, spending upwards of $8 on a fast-food burger is a luxury. It’s a special treat after a rough day, a night out with the family on a budget, a cheap date before payday. Nobody has to eat at Burger King, true, but people do expect more than the bare minimum. With these Whoppers, Burger King wasn’t even able to manage that.
Did I expect the food to be perfect? No. Did I expect it to look like it does in the commercials and advertisements? Nope. Did I expect it to be edible? Absolutely. Yet Burger King failed in a way I’ve scarcely seen in my 20-year food industry career. In fact, once I’m done being angry, I might be impressed. Here’s how everything went spectacularly wrong.
What is the Whopper, as an institution?
The most important element of any Whopper should be the burger itself. But, if you ask me, it has the texture of desiccated memory foam and a flavor that can best be described as an elementary school cafeteria trying to hide its sins with liquid smoke.
With its Million Dollar Whopper promotion, Burger King is attempting to solve the Whopper’s inherent problems by covering up the beef with a glut of intensely flavorful, moisture-rich and genuinely interesting toppings. This plan could have theoretically worked had said toppings been dispensed in the right quantities. But such an amount of toppings may not be cost-effective, and as such, here is what I was served.
Mexican Street Corn Whopper
Theoretically, this is supposed to be a Whopper with lettuce, tomato, creamy street corn spread, spicy queso and crunchy tortilla strips. I naively expected there to be corn on this burger, but after rereading the menu, I realized that by “creamy street corn spread,” Burger King only meant the lightly-spiced mayonnaise one might spread upon their corn. The only representation corn gets here is via tortilla strips, which quickly absorbed all the moisture from the lettuce and tomato and tasted like salty wet cardboard. Looking back, I suppose I should have been grateful for any moisture at all, because things went progressively downhill from here.
Maple Bourbon BBQ Whopper
This Whopper comes topped with “Maple Bourbon BBQ Sauce, Crispy Onions & Jalapenos, Smoky Maple Candied Bacon and American Cheese.” The sauce is absolutely necessary because every bite without it was too dry. While I’m going to assume that my burger was accidentally under-sauced,