Some time ago, a friend told me about a horrible chicken monstrosity that KFC was offering to American customers. It was a bacon cheese sandwich, except instead of using bread as the bun, two pieces of fried chicken were used instead. My initial reaction of revulsion was quickly replaced with reservation, then awe, then desire. If you ignored the particular ordering of the foods in the "sandwich" and considered only the components, you're really just eating chicken with cheese, mystery sauce and bacon on top of it. If you ignore the fact that the chicken is deep fried, you are actually looking at a perfectly normal meal. It sounded delicious. It sounded thrilling. My life would not be complete without one. But alas, the Double Down sandwich was not available in Canada, so I moved on with my life knowing it would be one step short of being complete.
Until one fateful day when we received a flier in the mail.
A flier with a bacon-cheese-chicken monstrosity gracing its glossy cover.
A flier with an announcement on it. An announcement just for me.
It was coming: the Double Down was coming!
It was finally October 18th. My boyfriend T and I were hungry. Starving, in fact. And the Double Down was being released upon an unsuspecting Canadian public. We would brave the lovely, crisp fall afternoon! We would endure the five minute walk over sickeningly well-mowed yards and quiet parking lots! We would storm through the glass doors and fight our way through the furious, teeming mass of a single customer and we would approach the holy KFC counter and make our desires known to the chicken gods.
T walked up to the counter and asked for "Two new brown things."
The chicken gods were sufficiently amused and granted our request after a small monetary sacrifice.
We received our prizes in small cardboard boxes, already soaking through with delicious chicken grease, and gently carried them home. Once comfortable in our abode we opened the boxes to look upon our rewards. The brown thing looked shockingly similar to the promotional photos, which is unexpected from KFC. It smelled of chicken and adventure. It was warm and greasy to the touch. We tasted it.
The flavor of chicken, bacon, cheese and a sharp pepper or spice of some sort blended together into perfect, heart-endangering bliss. Also salt. A lot of salt. Possibly more salt than there is in an ocean. Certainly enough salt to murder the entire Terran population of slugs.
The logistics of eating the "sandwich" were a bit tricky but I managed it in the end. I ate the Double Down into nonexistence; until all I was left with was an empty box, greasy fingers and a massive thirst to quench. I took down the double down that fateful day, and it shall be a day I remember forever.
... Does anyone else feel like having some KFC tonight?