Burger Wang

(Or, Junked Meat and Coronaries)

Today I nearly killed myself. It all started a couple weeks ago, when advertisements for the new Burger King specials began popping up around local subway stations. Riding the trendy Year-Of-The-Ox wave of the punny use "niu" -- homophone for "cow" and the slang for "cool" -- BK unveiled a line of burgers in China that I can only assume was aimed solely at causing heart attacks. They call them the BK Stackers.

One "niu" (just a boring old "cool" stacker single) gets you a regular bacon cheeseburger. No harm there.

Two "niu" (the "hen niu"/"very niu" stacker double) results in a double cheeseburger.

Three "niu" (the "chao niu"/"super niu" stacker triple) is a mammoth triple combo that could sate the hungriest of hungry Jacks.

So far, nothing out of the ordinary. It's the final option that is so perverse I just couldn't pass up the challenge: the mondo quadruple-bacon-cheeseburger, a sandwich so hefty it requires a detachable jaw just to take a real bite.

All hail "bao niu", the aptly titled "explosive niu" (Stacker Quad), King of the Coronary: four flame grilled beef patties topped with four slices of cheese, bacon, mayo and barbecue sauce. Depending on your persuasion, you are either salivating right now or reaching for your nearest trash bucket that may or may not catch your vomit in time.

According to the nutrition index, the quad is 8.8 ounces of goodness (that's over half a pound, if you're keeping track). Perhaps the Chinese thought those lucky 8's were worth the caloric onslaught. Clocking in at 1010 calories, 70g of fat, 30g of sat fat, 3g of trans fat, 210 mg of cholesterol, and 1800mg of sodium, I'm just glad I'm reading about these facts AFTER consuming this evil, evil thing.

Before I ordered the burger, I wondered whether french fries were necessary. Logic told me that I didn't need any further intake of awful, unhealthy doom to exacerbate the day's quota for Things-That-Could-Kill-Me-In-10-Years-Or-So. But I knew I'd get sick of the taste of chopped up, discarded beef bits. So I went with the meal for 42 RMB (single quadro-burger is only 31 RMB) and a whopping total of 1780 calories, which is way over my recommended daily caloric intake. When the BK girl asked if I wanted to super size, I shot her a quizzical look and asked her "Are you serious?" She giggled and entered the standard "Medium" size for my fries and Coke.

And then she smiled and pointed to the glowing advert on the overhead menu. "Your meal also comes with a free sundae! Which flavor would you like? Strawberry or Chocolate?" I inadvertently scrunched my face up in a disgusted quiver. The thought of Crisco-based soft serve with high fructose pink topping almost made me hurl the breath mint that I had downed a few minutes earlier in preparation for the lunchtime onslaught. I politely waved at her, "No thanks, I don't need it." She replied with an urgent, "But it's FREE..." Brushing aside my manners, I just laughed at her and said "Are you crazy? I don't even know if I can finish that burger! I'll pass, thanks." She just shrugged as if it were my loss. My arteries breathed a sigh of relief.

Behold!

Hunkering down at the table, I lifted that holy burger with two hands and watched as the steaming patties glistened with dripping fatty oil, shiny yellow cheese and those flaccid strips of pink, fatty bacon. The smell was intoxicating. Furtively peeking at the people around me, I noticed no one else had the balls to take on this gigantic beast. Lightweights. I opened my mouth and went in for the kill. I admit I felt a little naughty.

Yes, it is the size of my fist. Lord on high!

The first bite was bliss. As my teeth sunk through four burger's worth of processed flesh and an assortment of toppings that would make my primary care physician blush, I could actually hear the squish of the layers condensing in my mouth, entering my mouth in a heap of unbridled goodness. Somewhere out there, I swear I could hear a vegan crying.

Wow, Would you look at that!

Midway through, it started to get a little challenging. I had conducted a similar experiment in December 2008, tackling a triple burger at Wendy's, which I swore would be my last foray into Extreme Burger Sports. My better judgment was laughing at me now. Staring into the heart of this behemoth, I wanted to stop eating, just put down the wretched thing and cut my losses, thus saving myself further guilt and a few kilometers on the treadmill. But I am not a quitter. Taking another bite, my eyes began to well with tears.

It's rough, so, so rough...

With a few bites left, food coma had already begun to set in. Guilt and regret followed the queasiness. I cried out for my mommy to come and save me, but there was no help here. The only way to end the pain was to finish it once and for all.

Totally gonna hurl~

When I was finished, I handed my tray to a smiling BK worker and sheepishly crept away in shame, as if I had just done something extremely heinous, like whacking off into someone's sundae or accidently crapping myself at the table. Walking out of the restaurant (can we even call it that?), I hung my head low and made my way to the subway station.

After that damn burger, I had enough protein in my belly to make a hooker jealous. For a second time in ten months, I make a half-hearted vow never to do it again, no matter how attractive an advertisement for a heart attack on a sesame seed bun may look at the time. For those in the West that fear China will eventually take over the world, you can take heart in knowing that the USA will get the last laugh. If the popularity of this monster burger is any indication, American fast food will see Chinese obesity rates spike and heart disease and clogged arteries should start killing off the Red Threat within the decade. Nothing "niu" about that.