Sunday, September 10, 2023

Sunday Reading

“You Want Poutine With That?” — Adam Chandler in Slate explains why McDonald’s in Canada beat the USA hands down.

In those dark, sunless winter months when the temperature hits minus 20 degrees Celsius on the moose-lined banks of Lake Louise, I imagine that each Canadian is warming themself with the knowledge that they’ve beaten us at our own game. Canada has something America doesn’t and perhaps never will: McDonald’s supremacy.

Sit with this information for as long as you need, but also accept it. McDonald’s may have been born in the abundant order of sunny, postwar California and earned its status as an emblem of American soft power. But its stateside flagships have been tragically and thoroughly surpassed in bread and breadth by their counterparts in the north.

It’s not supposed to be this way—not in a capitalistic sense or a civic sense or a spiritual sense. Canada has its full year of paid parental leave and excessive apologizing and bagged milk. McDonald’s, obviously, was meant to be America’s thing, our birthright of processed riches and our lodestar toward joy and cardiovascular decay. Instead, American McDonald’s fade like ersatz pyrite against the shine of Canada’s golden arches.

The proof, sadly, is in the poutine. A permanent offering in Canadian McDonald’s, this sloppy mire of french fries topped with gravy and cheese curds curiously has no decadent parallel on McMenus across the so-called Peace Bridge. I wish this culinary trade deficit began and ended with Canada’s national sloppy drunk dish, but it doesn’t. For three square meals (plus Snack Wraps, Skor and caramel-popcorn McFlurrys, and late-night offerings for the properly hosed), the Canucks have us surrounded with superior firepower in a fight that we’ve seemingly lost without firing a single shot in our own defense. It’s the battle of Fort Detroit all over again.

Take breakfast, for example, where there are more than twice as many options to devour by the dawn’s early light in Canada. That includes fried chicken sandwiches, which, despite having been invented in American kitchens, apparently have no place on the breakfast menu of our biggest national chain. For my 3 loonies or whatever, Canada’s most infuriating breakfast offering is the Egg BLT McMuffin, which takes an American Egg McMuffin and zhuzhes it up with bacon, green-leaf lettuce, tomato, and a tangy mayo sauce. If the original Egg McMuffin is famously a portable homage to eggs Benedict, then the Egg BLT McMuffin is Canada’s portable homage to eggs Benedict Arnold, a symbol of rebellion against American austerity. (Adding further insult is the presence of “processed cheddar,” an ingredient that Canadian outposts won’t even deign to acknowledge is very clearly American cheese.)

To be outclassed is one thing. Again, Canada is Canada, a place where the sitting leader of the country can casually announce a divorce in the middle of a term without any major blowback. But Americans have long abided being the boor of their peer nations; it’s practically a point of pride. And so there is no analgesic for the moral injury that comes with realizing that Canadian McDonald’s have decided American Big Macs are simply too small for their liking. In addition to the Big Mac, Canadian menu boards flaunt not only a Double Big Mac, but a Grand Big Mac, which is a beastly, fully yoked, 850-calorie version of the double-decker sandwich that you can’t get in an American store—at least not without a full minute of explanation.

And this is where things get interesting, folks. The truth is, every single McDonald’s in the U.S. has both the capacity and the ingredients to build and sell a Grand Mac. What they lack, however, is the will. We could also have the huge bounty of breakfast items available in Canada, but we’ve traded creativity and variety for time and efficiency. Following a big menu reduction during the early days of the pandemic, McDonald’s in the U.S. also cut a number of healthier items last year in the name of faster service. “Our simplified menu enables for speed,” reported Bloomberg, quoting a large association of McDonald’s franchisees.

This strategy could be chalked up to a number of factors, including a pathological fury at slow transactions among time-strapped American consumers as well as chronic understaffing and poor employee recruitment by American corporate giants. The result is that the menus at our McDonald’s will always look meek in comparison to others, even ones in relatively similar markets.

When I consulted Bill Oakley, a former showrunner of The Simpsons and author of its classic “steamed hams” scene, as well as one of America’s foremost fast-food enthusiasts, he shared my umbrage. “We get nothing but new bags,” Oakley said, referencing the long lists of recent McDonald’s promotions and influencer meals that feature little but fresh packaging. “You know, I’ve been complaining about this for years. McDonald’s in America has calcified in terms of new offerings.” Speaking with Oakley, who is currently on strike with the Writers Guild of America, it was hard not to think that McDonald’s has become a bit like Hollywood—interminably rehashing old intellectual property. Even when something is new, like the recent Grimace shake, which got memed into oblivion this summer, it still had to come packaged with a familiar face. The menu didn’t notch a victory; branding did.

Ultimately, I found few satisfying answers as I sought out reasonable explanations for why such a huge gap between American and Canadian McDonald’s exists and why it stings so much. I don’t really begrudge Europeans their Old World Mickey D’s stocked with lagers and crepes. I’ll happily concede that Japan’s studied command of kitsch and embrace of shokunin make for an impressive operation. But to be humbled by our northern neighbor—a market so similar to our own and on terms so native to our core—is frankly humiliating.

“It has always just been that way,” one McDonald’s franchisee on the American side of the border told me. “There’s no animosity or bad blood. It has always just been two completely separate markets in leadership, marketing agencies, as well as franchisees. I’m not aware of anyone who owns McDonald’s in both markets.” In classic fashion, several Canadian franchisees that I reached out to refused to gloat about their strawberry pies and Spicy Habanero McChickens. What a bunch of polite jerks.

Doonesbury — Second to none.

Friday, October 29, 2021

Happy Friday

You know it’s fall in South Florida when Knaus Berry Farm starts selling cinnamon rolls.  But bring a chair, water, and sunscreen.

It’s not the start of Fall in Miami until cinnamon rolls start showing up in our timelines.

Knaus Berry Farm, famous for its house-made cinnamon rolls, pies and fresh-baked bread in the Redland, opens for the season the last Tuesday of every October. It stays open Monday through Saturday, through mid-April, and closes only on Thanksgiving, Christmas and New Year’s day.

Visiting the farm, a family operation since 1956, is an annual South Florida tradition.

And while it is a fully-functioning farm, offering fresh produce — including you-pick strawberries in the late winter — its cinnamon rolls are by far the biggest draw.

A warning, however: Lines can stretch to well over two hours during peak times.

What are peak times? Certainly the first weekend the farm is open qualifies. Friday night and all day Saturday nights are sure to bring the masses down from Miami.

Here are some tips if this is your first time driving south for cinnamon rolls:

It’s not by accident that Knaus first opens for the season on a Tuesday. The number of Miamians willing or able to go into work late or leave early cuts down on the long lines. But no doubt the first few days will rival Black Friday, no matter the day of the week.  So bring a folding chair, bottled water to stay hydrated and sunscreen. A hat wouldn’t hurt.

There’s nothing worse than waiting in an hours-long line just to reach the front and realize you can’t pay for your food. Knaus Berry Farm is strictly a cash business. And there’s no ATM at the farm and the closest one is at a gas station several miles away. Stop off at your bank first.  Cinnamon rolls cost $1.75 a piece, $7.50 a half dozen, $14.50 a dozen.

It’s not just cinnamon rolls. The fresh-baked bread is the reason many folks make this trip a weekly, not annual, tradition. The dinner rolls ($4.75 a dozen) are fluffy heaven. The dilly, raisin or mountain bread loaves ($4.40) have legion fans. And the coconut and pineapple upside down cakes ($11.50) are required. Just love cinnamon rolls? Try the pecan rolls ($18 for a tray of 10). It’s the most overlooked upgrade to Knaus’ cinnamon rolls.

In season, Knaus’ strawberry shakes are some of the best around. Lacking that, try the cinnamon roll shake — there’s nothing quite like it in South Florida. And they make for a great pastime while you’re waiting to move ahead in line.

I already got mine.

Tuesday, April 11, 2017

Feed The Kids

So it’s come to this.

What is “lunch shaming?” It happens when a child can’t pay a school lunch bill.

In Alabama, a child short on funds was stamped on the arm with “I Need Lunch Money.” In some schools, children are forced to clean cafeteria tables in front of their peers to pay the debt. Other schools require cafeteria workers to take a child’s hot food and throw it in the trash if he doesn’t have the money to pay for it.

In what its supporters say is the first such legislation in the country, New Mexico has outlawed shaming children whose parents are behind on school lunch payments.

On Thursday, Gov. Susana Martinez signed the Hunger-Free Students’ Bill of Rights, which directs schools to work with parents to pay their debts or sign up for federal meal assistance and puts an end to practices meant to embarrass children. It applies to public, private and religious schools that receive federal subsidies for students’ breakfasts and lunches.

The law’s passage is a victory for anti-hunger activists, who have long been critical of lunch-shaming practices that single out children with insufficient funds on their electronic swipe cards or who lack the necessary cash. These practices can include making the child wear a wrist band or requiring the child to perform chores in exchange for a meal.

In some cases, cafeteria workers have been ordered to throw away the hot lunches of children who owed money, giving them alternatives like sandwiches, milk and fruit.

“People on both sides of the aisle were genuinely horrified that schools were allowed to throw out children’s food or make them work to pay off debt,” said Jennifer Ramo, executive director of New Mexico Appleseed, an anti-poverty group that spearheaded the law. “It sounds like some scene from ‘Little Orphan Annie,’ but it happens every day.”

I don’t understand why the state of New Mexico had to pass a law that banned lunch-shaming — have we gotten to the stage where life is a Charles Dickens novel? — but I’m glad they did.

Saturday, March 18, 2017

Saturday, March 11, 2017

Saturday, March 4, 2017

Saturday, August 27, 2016