cheeseburger de jure | Butterscotch Sundae

So my brother? For whom I made a kickin’ infographic? He’s bailing on his cheeseburger reviews. But he’ll probably still be writing here. Read on to learn why. -N

Houston, we have a problem.

After just one (awesome) Cheeseburger de Jure post, the widely loved single-post series must be shut down. Why? Because I’ve made a purchase from an infomercial.

A few months ago, some friends of mine were in town. They were looking particularly slender. And they were all abuzz about P90X, which they had been doing for 30 of the 90-day routine. I talked with one of them a few P90X vs. cheeseburgers days ago to find out whether he finished it up. He had not, but was trying to make himself start again. Apparently, he thought what he really needed was a partner with whom to do the program. He thought that I should buy the program and do it with him — long-distance style. I promptly responded with a girlish giggle brought on by the idea of me watching Tony Horton tell me to do somethinganomics while I sat on my couch eating a cheeseburger. “No,” I told my friend. “That just won’t do.”

But then, divinity struck. I was out of town on business and couldn’t sleep. I turned on the hotel television, and I’ll let you guess what was on. Yep -– Ol’ Tony. He had all kinds of before and after pictures and videos. They once were chubby, and now they are not kind of stuff. I giggled again. But I like cheeseburgers, so I needed independent verification. I turned to the Amazon Ratings. I was shocked to find that nearly 70 percent were giving P90X a five-star rating. What about the utubes? Filled with home “before and after” success stories. So I went to the ebays -– where I bought the program for $70, new in box.

So what does this mean for you, Cheeseburger de Jure readers? Well, it means that I hope you are more excited about my lack of progress on P90X than my burger exploits, because that’s what I’m going to be talking about on a weekly basis. And it also means that you have officially become my support team. I’d love for you to yell at me when I tell you I’ve left the path of the diet or missed workouts. I can assure you, I do not have the self control to finish this thing on my own. Plus, there is something in it for you. Admit it: You’ve watched the informercial at least once. You’ve wondered if it works. Well, I’ll be your guinea pig (emphasis on “pig”). If it works for me, you’ll know beyond a shadow of a doubt that it will work for you. If it doesn’t work for me and you still want to try it, I’ll sell you my system for the low-low price of $70.

Because I’m chubby, I’m not posting before pictures unless and until I’m done with the system and I’ve lost a metric ton, at which point I’ll also post during and after pictures. [Note: He isn’t that chubby, and I totally posted a before picture for him. -N] But I will post my stats — weight, measurements and body fat percentage — on a weekly basis so that you have something to look forward to. (If this is really what you end up looking forward to, you really need to find a hobby.) Look for my “Pre-P90X Post” next Thursday.

Chubby? No. About to get leveled by a nephew? Absolutely.

As they say in the BudLight commercials, here we go.

Nichole here. My family’s favorite pastime is eating. Our second-favorite? Talking about things we have eaten. (As you likely could have guessed judging by the content of this blog.) My brother has a particular fondness for cheeseburgers. I tried to get him to start a cheeseburger-review site, but he wasn’t ready for that level of commitment. And so we bring you Cheeseburger de Jure, in which my brother eats cheeseburgers and tells us about them. He’s come up with a nifty and rather complex rating system. His first review is of McDonalds’ Bacon and Cheese Angus burger. I would’ve expected nothing less from a guy who spent his formative years working at said fast-food joint. Now let’s turn things over to my favorite famished barrister, Perry Mason.

Cheeseburger de Jure Hello Butterscotch Sundae Readers!

To make Cheeseburger de Jure work, we’ll need a rating system. The “Scale of 1-10” is boring, so I think we should invent a new system, by which we rate burgers by comparing the best alternative food item we’d rather eat. So, the scale, from worst to best, is:

(i) Ravioli from a can

(ii) Nachos from 7-eleven

(iii) anything from KFC or Taco Bell (whichever you hate more)

(iv) frozen pizza

(v) anything from Applebees

(vi) a decent lasagna

(vii) homemade chicken pot pie

(viii) thanksgiving dinner

(ix) Sizzling Rice Soup from Forbidden City in Saginaw, Mi (trust me, you’d rather eat this)

(x) my wife’s turtle cheesecake

With that out of the way, let’s get to the burger rating. On your plate is the McDonalds’ Angus Bacon & Cheese burger. McDonalds misses the mark on this one by making it more about the toppings than the cow. Admittedly, the toppings are wonderful. McDonalds uses higher-quality pickles, cheese and bacon on this burger than on its other offerings, and they try hard to step this one up and help make the burger look like it might not have come from a fast food joint. The presentation really is a step above. But no topping — and I mean no topping — can rescue this burger from a lack of flavor, juiciness or the guilt arising from the absurd caloric content.

So, where does this burger rate? I’d rather eat a frozen pizza.