Don't Double Down

My aunt used to have a small plaque hanging on the wall in her house:

Grant that I may not criticize my neighbor until I have walked a mile in his moccasins.
--American Indian Prayer

Last night a friend and I walked well over a mile--to KFC. That wasn't our intended destination, but we had to divert when he pointed out the sign in the window:
I had to go in to try this chicken, cheese, and bacon delight. It looks perfect, doesn't it?

The first indication that it's somewhat less than perfect is the appearance of the actual sandwich. Compare the picture below to the savory delicacy above:


Still, one must not judge a book by its over, however ragged and saggy that cover may be. So let's start reading the story:

So how did it taste, you ask? See if you can tell from this picture:


To mix metaphors, my neighbor's moccasins didn't rip, but they weren't soft, either. To be blunt, I was a bit disappointed in the sandwich. It was a 6 out of 10.

For starters, the sauce overwhelmed all the other flavors. I don't mean overwhelmed just a little, I mean Governor Blanco during Hurricane Katrina overwhelmed. That sauce was so strong and spicy that the chicken itself seemed flavorless, and I couldn't even taste the bacon or the cheese. What's the point of having bacon and cheese if you can't taste them? All you can taste is the excessively strong sauce, and that sauce isn't Chez Matisse caliber.

They call the sandwich the Double Down. The problem is that if you're playing blackjack, this sandwich is a soft 17. If this is poker, you've got to know when to hold 'em, know when to fold 'em, know when to walk away, and know when to run--and at best, with this hand you take your chances and hold 'em.

The Double Down has so much potential, but it's wasted. What a tragedy.

Are there any fast foods worth eating? What's your favorite?