It should never have come to this.
I started Burgers and Bruce with a vow to find the best burgers worldwide for travelling Springsteen fans and other food lovers to try.
And then I met Bruce Springsteen. And Bruce loves burgers. He has a “fondness for a good diner burger” in fact. Simple, unpretentious, classic American burgers.
So when I saw that McDonalds had launched a 1950s diner inspired burger, “a tribute to where it all began,” I felt obliged to try one.
Now before you write me off as a total burger snob, McDonalds and I have had our dalliances. A cheeseburger and I took shelter from the rain in McDonalds in Manchester when Bruce played there in 2012. In a dreary port town in Brazil called Santos, I ate two Big Macs on Christmas Day 2004, because it really was the best option at the time. McDonalds and I have also been known to enjoy the odd drunken one night stand. Of course I don’t feel good about myself the next morning, but it appears to be a great idea at the time.
So I didn’t feel too worried about trying this new burger. Yes I accepted it wouldn’t be the finest in the world, but how bad could it be?
My colleagues were reluctant to join me, despite me making a very strong case for the McDonalds apple pies and hash browns, the two best things on the menu in my opinion. Finally an intern agreed to come with me. Interns. So eager to please.
We trudged our way to McDonalds in the rain, and I ordered the “improved recipe” 1955 burger with fries, all in the name of research. £5.08. I considered asking for it “medium rare” but thought my joke would fall on deaf ears. The intern and I laughed about it though.
I should have seen it coming.
Perhaps unsurprisingly, the burger was bad. I mean really, it was the worst burger I have ever tried. The bun, sweet and synthetic, the ‘meat’, thin as a pancake and dry, the bacon…oh the bacon! Limp, lifeless lettuce, so lacking in nutritional value it was verging on white instead of green. Two offensive slices of tomato, removed of course, with ‘caremelised’ onions and a smoky sauce slapped on the patty. In all my burger eating I have never ever tried something so horrendous.
Just when I thought things couldn’t get any worse, Lady Antebellum came on nauseatingly loud, that irritating song about it being “quarter past one” (their pre-Springsteen performance of that at Hard Rock Calling 2012 still haunts me). Combined with bright white lighting and ugly looking, chemically tasting burger, it was a new low point for me.
So I left McDonalds feeling fat and traumatised, with only a pot of barbeque sauce to say good things about. It gave me a high all afternoon before I crashed at about 4pm. I hurried back to work and scrubbed my hands to try and remove all evidence of the last hour I’d spent living in sin.
McDonalds is good for some things. Apple pies, emergency bathroom use in a Springsteen pit queue, Big Mac Christmas lunch, shelter from the rain and the occasional post pub flirt with Ronald McDonald.
But for the 1955 burger? Please please please, don’t go there.