I doubled down on the Double Down

That catchy title means exactly what you think it might mean.

That's right, I had not one, but two Double Downs the other day.

(Also, that's right, I'm fat. So what?)


The hysterical and sanctimonious coverage of the Double Down has irritated the shit out of me, to tell you the truth. I mean, it's just a fucking sandwich! But "food writers" have been in a rush to top one another with their two cents about how (a) this sandwich symbolizes a Rome-like decline of American civilization, (b) is so disgusting they can't find colorful enough phrases to describe it, and (c) they are way too refined to ever eat one themselves, unless they want to get all Brooklyn and eat one in a fit of irony, before promising how they could barely get past the first bite, much less half the sandwich, and while it is cool for them to eat - and hate - it, you are an asshole if you do and don't, respectively.

Fine, I'm an asshole. I also totally loved the Double Down.

OK, that's not completely true. In all honesty, I did enjoy the original version. It wasn't a perfect creation, mostly because I don't like bacon (gasp .. it's true) and the cheese wasn't exactly delicious, but the fried chicken was very good, unexpectedly moist and tender. The grilled chicken (or as my pals and I called it, the girl version), was not good. Not in the least. Super dry, kinda tiny, irredeemably salty, sorta besides the point.

The original, though. Yeah, it did the trick.

Best of all, though ... I had a really good time at KFC when my friends and I went. I went with my good buddy Cookbook and a couple of our mutual friends (who are, incidentally, a couple). We ate our sandwiches in a state of blissful camradarie, but then languished over our empty trays and wrappers for nearly an hour, chatting and enjoying one another's company. Did that have anything to do with KFC? Probably not, but it did have something to do with the fact that we were out to do something fun and weird.


So while everyone on the internet that considers them some kind of jag-off gourmand was patting themselves on the back for not liking something before going back to the bathroom to see how well their scowl matched their black jacket, we let loose and had fun. Listen, I can foie gras and heritage produce it up with the best of them. But sometimes - most of the time, actually - it is nice to loosen your collar and pull the stick out from your ass. Know what I mean?

Will I go to KFC to get a Double Down again? I dunno. Maybe? Not because it was awesome (the classic chicken sandwich at Burger King still owns my heart when I'm looking for a fast food white meat fix). But if one of my buddies looks at me with a mischevious glint in their eye and says, "Hey - you know what would be awesome right about now? A Double Down," well, my response will be something along the lines of, "Well, what the fuck are we waiting for?!"