Roughly 8 months ago I, along with many of you came across this gem. However, unlike most of you, I was positively ecstatic about the prospect of one day treating myself to a small pile of fried chicken covered in corn syrup-based koala semen substitute. The way I see it, if, in his infallibly infinite and all-knowing wisdom, Colonel Sanders has decided my life should end in a salty, greasy, fat clogged stroked out blaze of glory then who am I to argue with him?
So I bided my time, waiting for KFC to finally turn this sickeningly scrumptious snack concept into tummy-turning reality. And then it was here, April 12, 2010. With a combination of impatience and shame shooting through my veins I sped through the KFC drive-thru, flinging my crumpled up tender at the poor schmuck at the window while simultaneously snatching my goody bag from his grasp. Once safely back home I tore through the paper bag which sported the likeness of the Colonel, his eternal grin mocking me in my helpless state. The smell of fried poultry hit my nostrils as my fingertips locked in on the greasy masterpiece which was now at my mercy. I took a bite. And what a bite it was! My tongue was besieged by the combination of salt, grease, spices, and animal fat. It was almost too much to process, each individual component losing itself in the entirety of the Double Down experience. There was just the right amount of Swiss cheese, the proper dosage of special sauce, and a perfect strip of bacon. In short, I was impressed.
Result: Despite my trepidation that I would feel dirty and ill after consuming this abomination of all things sandwich, I actually walked away from the feeding grounds relatively sated and none the worse for wear. It turns out this little puppy has more bark than bite. But kudos to you Colonel, due to a successful combination of an impressive array of flavors your beast is indeed a beauty. The Double Down receives 3.75 Golden Tongues out of a possible 5 Golden Tongues. It's a shame I can't give it more but, surprisingly, it just wasn't revolting enough to make a significant impression on my digestive tract.
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1 comment:
"The way I see it, if, in his infallibly infinite and all-knowing wisdom, Colonel Sanders has decided my life should end in a salty, greasy, fat clogged stroked out blaze of glory then who am I to argue with him?"
Yes. Give yourself up completely to the Colonel, and he will provide…
During your times of trial and suffering,
when you see only one set of footprints,
it was the Colonel who carried you.
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