This particular Burger King restaurant review concerns the one on Western Avenue (across from the Cineplex with the most uncomfortable seats in the world).
by Julio Childs
We spend a lot of time around Wiglar Headquarters thinking… thinking and asking questions about what it would take to make the Wiglar a more “legitimate” publication. What would it take to turn this rag into a more valued part of the community while at the same time helping the local economy? What could we possibly do to give the Reglar Wiglar a little more class?
And then it hits us: restaurant reviews! What if we gave a couple of our best writers five bucks and sent them out to review a few of the local eateries? Yeah, we spend a lot of time around here thinking… thinking, and asking questions…
Burger King Restaurant Review
Apparently the Whopper is forty-five years old this year and this particular Burger King is celebrating by the posting of signs to give credit to a few of the ingredients that have made this milestone possible.
One element that Burger King attributes to the longevity of the world’s second most famous sandwich is the use of “old-fashioned dill pickles.” I personally wasn’t aware that there had been such an amazing leap in pickle technology that would make a distinction between the old and new schools of dill pickles necessary, but then again I don’t really follow that sort of thing.
Of course, the distinction that sets BK burgers apart from every other fast food burger is the famous “flame-broiled” cooking method; Burger King hamburgers aren’t grilled or fried, they’re “flame-broiled.” To tell you the truth, “flame-broiled” really doesn’t mean much to me. If your hamburgers taste like shit, it doesn’t really matter how they got that way. The damage has been done.
Ambiance
Ambiance? Please!
Cuisine
It should be evident at this point exactly how I felt about the Whopper I ingested. I sincerely hated it. The fries on the other hand were, very, very salty. You might even go so far as to say that they were way too fucking salty to enjoy. As for the beverage, the ice melted quickly in my “Coke or Pepsi or whatever” (that’s how I order it in restaurants and movie theaters ’cause I’m so oblivious to name brands — and so cool!) making it all watery and therefore not so good.
Service
The cashier was pretty spaced out. He made several attempts to give my change to the guy next to me. The woman in BK gear leaning up against the waste receptacle by the door did say goodbye which I wasn’t expecting at all. It was a nice touch though, especially after the horrible, horrible food that was now churning in my gut.
Value
Under five bucks. That’s a deal, I gotta admit.
Check, please!
Originally published in Reglar Wiglar #17, 2002
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