I've eaten at McDonalds twice recently. Once because my friend Dr Evil has an unaccountable but somehow endearing fondness for their horrible strawberry "milkshakes", and the second time for reasons similar to DZ in the OP - I had ridden 100 Welsh miles alone and found myself hungry, cold and (worst of all) in Newport, with 45 minutes to wait for the train. In fact it was DZ's reports of decent coffee that led me to seek it out. But there was no coffee in the Newport branch. On my earlier visit to the Swansea Docks branch with Dr Evil I had, having become unfamiliar with the menu innovations, ordered some kind of novelty item with "Deli" in the title. It was one of those concoctions of Chorleywood pap, chicken-pap, and and mayo-ketch slime that falls to pieces in your hands and tastes identical across the fast-food world. Determined to avoid the same mistake, and not without a Spurlockian hint of manic excitement, I opted for a Quarter Pounder with Cheese (or, more accurately, "cheese") and some fries. The chap who was serving was charm itself, and visibly moved by my devastation at the news about the coffee. No-one seemed to mind my bike. So far so good. I ate hungrily, and it wasn't even horrible. It wasn't good either.. The problem with this kind of fast food for me is that there's no sensual pleasure to match its slightly naughty, tantalizing promise -
all of the pleasure is in the anticipation, it's just that you carry that anticipation right through to the empty wrapper in a futile attempt to stave off the disappointment. It's this sort of mockery of pleasure that's at the heart of what's wrong with the food industry. I don't care how "bad" something is for me, as long as its promises are true. And unlike DZ I think "nutrition information" generally demystifies the good stuff whilst not getting to what's wrong with the bad. It's not a coincidence that the stuff we get the most nutrition information about is the same stuff that's killing us.
I intend to make at least one more visit at some point to investigate the coffee, and will almost certainly fall face first, willingly, into a Big Mac when I do. So let's big up the charming staff, the welcoming managers and the khazis-you-could-eat-your-McSandwich-off, but let's not confuse a friendly face and a well-furnished toilet break with a benign corporation. And while we're approvingly selecting our lower-calorie "Deli" option let's raise a rootbeer to Steel and Morris, to whose Jarndyce-v-Jarndyce-tastic ordeal we owe what little accountability McDonalds has to all of us who have nowhere else to go for a slash, a coffee and a sensual disappointment. Here's the text of their original, much of which holds up over 25 years later:
http://www.mcspotlight.org/case/factsheet.html