Cheeseburger Chronicles #036

Anyone who read about my many intriguing exploits last Saturday at work know that I’d had a pretty long day by the time I finally clocked out.

As such, I wandered up to Central Square to snag some beer for Grace and I to enjoy whilst watching Whip It—which, by the way, was AWESOME—and on the way I made eye contact with a gigantic poster.

The poster was hanging in the window of—you guessed it—Wendy’s.

The poster was pimping Wendy’s new Bacon and Blue burger, a concoction eloquently described on the company’s website:

Send your taste buds into overdrive with fresh, never frozen North American beef covered in real blue cheese crumbles layered with thick, fresh-cooked Applewood Smoked Bacon, topped with sautéed onions and creamy steakhouse sauce.

Being that I’d had a pretty craptacular day, I was hungry, and this was made of dead cow AND dead pig…I had no choice but to get one.

Here be the results…

Cheeseburger #036

What: Bacon and Blue Burger

Where: Ghetto Wendy’s in Central Square

When: March 13, 2010

How (was it): Not gonna lie, this burger was bad-to-the-ass.

I hadn’t set the bar real high when I ordered. In fact, I was going to go ahead and call it a win if it didn’t make me sick to my stomach before I had time to get home and enjoy some cinematic derby action and a few cold beers.

Instead, I was pleasantly surprised to find that it was a really good burger.

The “creamy steakhouse sauce” meshed really well with the sautéed onions and the blue cheese melted all over the place making for a gooey, bacony surprise in the middle of each bite.

Wendy’s has done me right two times in a row, which isn’t a good sign, perhaps another embargo is looming?

I’ve learned that the key to avoiding a stomach pump after eating at this particular Wendy’s is to go in there when the place is pretty much completely empty.

Any time the undoubtedly highly-skilled burger technicians behind the counter have to deal with more than two or three people’s meals at a time, they get panicked and everything tastes like a horsemeat and Velvetta sammitch.

The last two times I’ve been in there it’s just me, some homeless people, an old man eating some questionable chili, a drug dealer, and a few drunken frat guys…apparently that’s the magical formula for a good burger at Wendy’s.

Who knew?!