.have it their way. July 31, 2008

.authored by something.of.substance.

I don’t know about you, but I like to think about what I’m putting in my mouth lest I encounter something unfit for consumption. Wise cracks about my social life aside, it disturbs me when celebrated chefs such as Anthony Bourdain state in interviews* that given the choice between eating mud-caked warthog anus- again- or a McDonald’s Chicken McNugget he would really consider eating the unwashed rectum because at least it was identifiable. When poo gets a winning vote, it may be time to re-think our food ethics. More plainly, if it can’t be identified, scientifically, why would I think my body could do any better of a job of figuring out what to make of it?

All of this rumination begs the questions: Are we what we eat? Or, are we what we think we’re eating? I decided to investigate the possible answers to the latter question by visiting my local Burger King.

I don’t spend a whole lot of time frequenting fast food restaurants. That’s a lie. I don’t spend any time haunting the tubby-sized soft drink bars or mud-covered, cracked plastic booths of these salutes to the American way which, incidentally, appears to be “cheap, fast and full of crap”. And, I’m not riding my high horse all the way to the drive-thru. When I was in high school, McDonald’s and Wendy’s provided my minimum-wage working self a fast, friendly meal. Well, maybe not so friendly considering the long-term consequences to my body, the middle-of-my-shift crash in blood sugar and the surplus of larger size pants I had stocked to deal with the immediate after-shock of bloating up like Snoopy in the Macy’s Day Parade.

As I’ve gotten older, I adopted, first, a Vegetarian way of life and, more recently, a mindful Vegan outlook towards my food consumption. As trendy as “veg” lifestyles currently are, this doesn’t have anything to do with being hip and Going Green! until the next fad food craze is suggested by day-time talk television or Lindsay Lohan. Instead, I wanted to eliminate as much junk from my body as possible. Given my propensity for wanting to ingest toxins frequently (despite my many stints of quitting, I haven’t been able to “stay quit” at cigarette smoking although I continue to try), I thought I’d do myself a favor and cut out all animal-based products- hence the switch to Vegan.

Human beings do not need meat. And, we certainly don’t need unidentifiable, processed animal parts (chicken beak, anyone?), 3lbs. of grease-soaked potato and a 2-gallon “diet” beverage as a meal or even a treat. People in many other countries subsist on wholly vegetarian diets and, surprisingly, don’t have to cry themselves to sleep every night! We could do it too! And that’s why I was, at least, mildly-thrilled that Burger King was unveiling some new Healthy Choices on their kiddie menu.

Cut ahead to me traveling to the nearest BK in search of the new-fangled “Apple Fries”. Of course, the closest Burger King was found in a lower-income part of town (fast food restaurants are not aesthetically-pleasing, for one, and they capitalize on those in poverty by supplying them lots of empty calories for “cheap”) and looked about as run-down as I used to feel after eating there.

The door handle stuck slightly to my hand as I pulled open the main doors, a rush of cold air fortified with the exotic mix of warm ketchup and stale body odor to greet me. And, that was pretty much the only thing to welcome me as I entered the generic fast food interior. The uniformed teenagers manning the counter were more enthralled with the latest neighborhood gossip than my presence. Nearly four minutes after first walking in, I finally made enough eye contact to warrant my turn at the register. I ordered the “Apple Fries” and watched, dumbfounded, as the girl ringing not only my order, but that of the double cheeseburger that my friend (who joined me) requested, struggled to cue in said double cheeseburger, hitting picture buttons to add cheese and eliminate lettuce. Apparently, Burger King is not donating to any literacy funds this year.

After paying the equivalent price of two heads of lettuce, a loaf of bread, bottle of salad dressing and jar of peanut butter, we hefted our tray to the condiments station. It was there, as I observed my pal dispensing globules of crusty ketchup from a pump jar into tiny paper cups, that it began to occur to me just why Americans could remain so fixated with meat culture and, more specifically the fast food culture, despite all reports to abandon the habit. Splayed out across each high chair, underneath the artificial fun of the tag-board crowns and above the remnants of anonymous children’s dinners was a plastic bib stating:“Future WHOPPER Eater”. They are hooking us when we’re young! I know that’s a title any of my future children will definitely aspire to!

Stopping at the beverage dispensary, I attempted to fill my cup with ice water only to discover that this BK was, unfortunately, out of both ice and water. Well, to be specific, they were out of “plain” water; the water was flowing through the carbonated syrup machines. Passing on the liquid sugar, I selected the booth that looked most like it had been wiped off sometime in the last month. Maybe. Maybe once. My “Apple Fries” came in a sealed plastic bag stuffed in a French fry container. I dumped out the baggie of apples, opened it and found that, for more than the price of a cheeseburger and fries, I had purchased five peeled slices of apple. But, wait! Before I had a chance to feel cheated, I discovered the bonus prize: my very own container of caramel sauce for dipping! Good! I was deeply fearful that I would be stuck eating something legitimately healthy as part of this healthy kids menu.

Ignoring the solidified high-fructose corn syrup, I munched slowly on my ¼ apple while examining the packaging. The “Apple Fries” box wasn’t extolling the benefits of apples while dressed up like fries. Worse than that, it was a regular “hot, fresh” French fry box. It advertised French fries. If I had swiped some ketchup from the table top and smeared it over the apple, I could have fooled myself into believing I was eating something tasty instead of something good for me. In fact, I suspect this was the function of the caramel: teach kids that something fun-tasting comes in the red box!

And that’s when it dawned on me: this is exactly what Burger King is hoping will happen with children. According to a report on MSNBC.com, John Chidsey, Burger King’s chief executive stated that BK “not only want[s] to better inform parents and kids about these new menu options but also to demonstrate through product innovation that better-for-you foods can be fun and taste good.”

Except, this isn’t quite what they’re proving. Rather than letting the quality and nutrition of these so-called “better-for-you” foods speak for themselves, they are trussing them up in other foods’ packaging. They are conditioning children- the future consumers of America- to remember, not the apple slices, but French fries. When these kids grow up, they will opt for the packaging they remember and not necessarily what was contained within. And, what’s really sad is that fast food corporations assume Americans, en masse, are not bright enough to figure out this depraved form of product placement.

Tossing away my (unused) French fry box, I carried out my souvenir superlative bib, a slight film on my bum from the seats and a mostly-empty stomach. Lucky for me they didn’t provide more sustenance in the bottom of that fry box: I was too sickened by the idea of kids conditioned, mindlessly and endlessly, to consume hydrogenated excuses for once legitimate food to enjoy my “Fries”.

* – In a January 2008 interview with the A.V. Club, Bourdain said that while if he had to choose between the rectum again and a Chicken McNugget, he’d “surely” choose the McNugget, but that he still found it more disgusting than the warthog rectum.