jon

The best way to describe this “sandwich” is to say that it’s a frontal assault on the buyer’s pride.

My first impression of the KFC Double Down was a greasy brown bag. This is a sandwich so powerful that the bottom of the brown bag in which it was packaged was soaked in grease before making it out of the drive through window, despite being wrapped in wax paper and placed in a box.

The next thing that struck me was its heft. I conceptually realized it would be heavier than a regular sandwich, since there were two giant fried chicken breasts, but its sheer mass surprised me.

After one taste, I was convinced that there was no possible way this is only 540 calories. I couldn’t even look at it without my hand and face getting covered in grease. Each bite felt like 540 calories.

As I worked my way through it, a series of phrases popped into my head. It feels like the definition of indulgence. It’s almost as if a manager at KFC headquarters was personally offended by the very idea of good sense and decided to launch a war against it. Or perhaps some visionary looked at the fried chicken menu at a local KFC and decided it was just too damn wussy.

It feels almost like a joke. This is the sort of idea you’d expect to be introduced to make fun of someone or mock your own menu as a way of introducing a new healthy item.

Of course, I haven’t even mentioned how the thing tastes. It was actually fantastic, although it feels like there are a few bricks in my stomach. I couldn’t even begin to think about eating the fries that the combo comes with, and I’m in no rush at all to go out and get another.

All told, it was certainly an experience – the way getting into a fistfight is an experience. It’s exhilarating and you just know you’re doing something wrong that you will regret but there’s too much adrenaline and sweat (and… grease? Did I mention this thing is greasy?) to stop.