Friday, March 7, 2008

TBG Reviews: Burger King's BBQ Bacon Tendercrisp

So, last night was "Father's Night" at Little Boy Bootleg's preschool.

Thursdays are especially long days for Jalen, so Mrs. Bootleg often bypasses his mandated midday nap in favor of a 5 o'clock bath, 6 o'clock dinner and 6:30 PM bedtime. As luck would have it, most Thursday nights I'm stuck at work until 6:21, which, when you factor in my 10 minute drive home, means I miss out on a lot of special moments. Darn.

Quick quiz: There were two evening sessions at Jalen's preschool, yesterday. The first from 5:30-6:15 PM and the second from 6:30-7:15 PM. Which one d'ya think we got stuck with?

And, of course, Mrs. Bootleg thought this should be the ONE Thursday where she lets the boy nap after school. My son inherited a lot of things from his old man. OK, well, mostly his head…but, while I'm a fitfully light and restless sleeper, that boy can sleep through anything. Earlier this week, at 12:30 AM, he climbed atop my sleeping corpse and laid his entire body across my face. In a girly state of panic ("Mrs. Bootleg is trying to suffocate me with a brown fleshy pillow!") I threw the boy/pillow to the ground. Pretty sure he bounced off the carpet, but he didn't wake up.

Wait, I'm supposed to be reviewing a sandwich here, aren't I?

OK…we got the boy up after almost 15 minutes of trying. How'd we do it? Sorry, no time to explain. We hit the shower, the wife got Jalen dressed and we were off. Upon arrival, I discovered that the wife forgot to (1) brush the boy's hair and (2) lotion him up. As if it wasn't already uncomfortable enough for me to be at his mostly white school, fielding questions like, "Wait, Jalen has a mother…and a father?", I had to drag this ashy, unkempt kid with me.

Right, right…the sandwich, the sandwich…

All the kids were spooked by the dozen or so strange smelly men who weren't their familiar septuagenarian women instructors. By the time we'd collectively amputated the kids from our hips, it was time to go home. But, before we got home, it was dinner by BK.

I've previously affirmed my affection for Burger King's Tendercrisp line of chicken sandwiches. I'm not all that big on barbecue sauce on anything other than pig parts, but since it's scientifically proven that "bacon makes it better", I thought I'd give it a shot.

For what it's worth, this was the first ever Tendercrisp I'd eaten that was actually crisp. I hope someone didn't get fired over this, since the usually soft, mushy breading has always led me to believe that I was eating irony. Unfortunately, the rest of the ingredients couldn't keep up. The barbecue sauce was thin and off-tasting (think watery ketchup mixed with Splenda) and the bacon texture was predictably "boiled".

Lettuce, tomato and mayo finish things off and, while not a particularly exceptional meal, this one's still about average for fast food fare. Stick with the Firecracker Tendercrisp or, if you're all about real BBQ, hit up the local rib shack in whatever sketchy neighborhood is closest to your home. Make sure to order in your best Chris Rock voice.

Trust me, it always kills 'em behind the counter.

Well, if the bullet wounds…wait, what am I reviewing again?


Anonymous said...

How is eating a Tendercrisp "eating irony"? If anything it's "eating an oxymoron", right? "Tender" and "crisp"? Right?

Am I missing something? (Wouldn't be the first time)

That Bootleg Guy said...

Wait, it's irony, isn't it? The sandwich is usually soggy, but they CALL it the "Tendercrisp". Isn't that irony? Pretty sure it is, even if I'm as guilty as everyone else when it comes to incorrectly using it 99% of the time. OK, 98% for me.

Joe Reid said...

I actually think it's both ironic AND an oxymoron. Everybody's a winner!

That Bootleg Guy said...

There's way too much learnin' goin' on here. I didn't start this blog for that.

Chris James said...

I thought it coulda used a slice of cheddar cheese, personally.