Instead, I was given two Frankensteined abominations thrown together with such little care for presentation that I suspected the “cook” in question was a drunk pekingese with eye trouble. I ordered a Cheesy Gordita Crunch and a Crunchwrap Supreme under the impression that they would be salty, unhealthy, and lovely. I just want it to taste good in the same way that McDonald’s or Domino’s does.
In a two day stretch of meals last week, I ate Girl Scout cookies for breakfast, nothing for lunch, cheesecake bites from a fundraising party for dinner, a box of chocolate for the following days breakfast, nothing for lunch, hors d’ouvre from a fundraising party for dinner, and a Culver’s chocolate shake for dessert. I’m not demanding any sort of culinary revelation when going to Taco Bell, and I don’t even care if it’s nutritious. I think McDonald’s is good, and Arby’s curly fries are one of humanity’s greatest creations. I like to indulge in trash eats on occasion. My derision doesn’t come from any feeling of food elitism. This food is trash, and it cannot sustain your body.
Taco Bell has opted to go a separate route, forgoing both sustenance or art in pursuit of sheer edible nihilism.
Others strive to create meals that fill you up while tasting delicious. Many chefs attempt to elevate food from sustenance to art, collapsing and reconstructing combinations of flavors and textures into something that can transcend the baseness of human hunger.
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