Don’t say we never did anything for you, Fort Smith Eats readers.
Sure, we eat at area restaurants practically every day. Sure, we carve out time from our days to write and blog and tweet about what we’ve discovered just to share with you, so you and your families can know what is good, great, or avoidable about our local eateries. Sure, we do this at our own often considerable expense, with no profit in mind, other than the gratification that comes from interacting with you and knowing we’re helping our community in some small way.
All this is true. But never until now had we truly realized the sacrifice our commitment to you might sometimes require.
A while back, one of our readers and early Twitter followers, @WendyWhy, asked us if we’d eat Hardee’s new fried bologna biscuit and tell her how it was.
Now, we like food. We like food a lot. We like high falutin foodie food and we like low brow street food and we like a great deal of food in between. There are few menu items in Fort Smith whose names alone have ever reduced us to squealing like a little girl: Ewwwwwwww!
But the mischievous Ms. @WendyWhy knew that Hardee’s fried bologna biscuit was one of those items. In fact, probably THE item that makes our usually steel Fort Smith Eats tummy go flopping around in our belly at just the thought.
It’s not the bologna. We’re down with our old-school Wonder Bread mayo and bologna sandwiches. Tastes like childhood. We sing the Oscar Mayer jingle in our heads sometimes, and we’ve even been known to look longingly at a big hunk of unsliced bologna in the deli case. There’s nothing inherently wrong with bologna. Believe it or not, we aren’t lunchmeat snobs.
It’s not the fried, either. For Pete’s sake, we’re Arkansan. There’s not much we don’t like fried. And we’re well aware of The King’s (that’s Mr. Presley if you’re nasty) predilection for fried bologna sandwiches. That’s fine. Sort of a low-rent comfort food. Don’t have a problem with that.
And don’t even think we don’t like biscuits. Y’all know better.
(Is there such a thing as someone who doesn’t like biscuits? We aren’t sure that is possible.)
Maybe it’s like when you do algebraic equations the wrong way, multiplying before adding the 2x to the y divided by 42 or whatever. We have a tendency to read “fried” + “bologna biscuit” instead of “fried bologna” + “biscuit.” Ya know? Cheese biscuits we like. Sausage biscuits (which, when you think of it, are always fried, but they smartly don’t feel the need to state it) we like. Bologna biscuits? Shudder.
Not to mention, this isn’t just meat and biscuit. This is bologna, egg, cheese and biscuit.
Does. Not. Sound. Good.
So, no, of course we won’t just try it. There are limits to our love. We wouldn’t eat such a possible abomination to breakfast foods just because a nice girl asked us to.
We will, however, whore our Fort Smith Eats tummy out.
So we made a deal. Help us get another 50 Twitter followers–500 total–and we’ll do it. At 500 followers, we tweeted, Fort Smith Eats will eat a Hardee’s fried bologna biscuit and then tell you about it.
Dadgummit, we’re now at 500 followers. So we did it. We sauntered up to the counter, gulped, and then ordered a fried bologna biscuit. We even made it sound like we actually wanted it.
The Hardee’s employee kind of made a slight face, but didn’t say a word, just punched the button and took our money in silent judgment.
We unwrapped our paper wrapper, and found this:
We should have just bitten into it, right then and there. That would have been the smart thing to do. Instead? What did Stoopid Curious Fort Smith Eats do? We looked inside.
Really wish we hadn’t done that. All that grease, just sitting on top of cheap sodium-infused meat, nestled between fast food eggs (they may be conveniently biscuitable, but c’mon, you know they’re never actually good), a slice of “processed cheese product” and a sad biscuit that deserved a happier end to its short life? What were we thinking?
We bit into it. We chewed. We tasted. We swallowed. We did it again.
How was it? Well, it could have been worse. It wasn’t good. It wasn’t absolutely wretched. It was ungood, but moreover, just…pointlessly bad.
The bologna was flavorless. Greasy as anything, with that icky-on-a-breakfast-biscuit bologna consistency, but predominantly flavorless. Frying usually intensifies the flavor of bologna, so this cold cut must have started out tasting like paste. There was not the satisfying crispness to the edges or browned bits with extra fried bologna goodness we’d had slight hopes we might find. It was just warm, greasy, cheap, fatty meat that tasted like nothing.
The eggs were dry and folded over on each other in that way that is supposed to remind us of omelets, but really just reminds us that it’s mass produced fast food eggs. The half-melted square of processed cheese was the pinnacle of this assemblage of non-tasty breakfast tastes, and the only part of the biscuit sandwich with much discernible flavor. The biscuit itself was dry. It looked better than it tasted.
We ate two bites. Then we passed it onto our companion. We’ll call this companion “Mikey.” Mikey will eat anything. Mikey ate three small bites. Mikey was not impressed. Mikey did not want more.
So the remaining breakfast sandwich carcass was, we must confess, returned to its death shroud of a Hardee’s wrapper and buried in the Great Trash Abyss on the way out the door. The only thing comforting about this “comfort food” was the satisfying thud as it hit the bottom of the can.
Yes, we lived to tell the tale.
And yes, we’re truly delighted that we now have 500 followers.
But next time, @WendyWhy, can’t you challenge us to try something from oh, say, Doe’s Eat Place? (Now they know how to do fried biscuits, hold the bologna, egg & cheese.)
Just so you don’t think we are alone in our fried bologna biscuit aversion/snobbery, we’ll leave you with this amusing video we stumbled across on YouTube. Our favorite part is the music. Enjoy, and be warned. All 500 of you.