A Better Burger?

Rating McDonald's "adult" hamburger — and remembering the birth of Big Mac.

By Holly Moore

Major doings down on fast food row. Blithe spirit Ronald McDonald has put aside his childish ways, gone buttondown and is urging the generations that romped with him through their Hamburglar years to grow up and taste the bacon. The Arch Deluxe, McDonald's entry into what fast-foodies label the "garden burger" (hamburger with salad on top) market, is being introduced nationwide. Biggest happening under them golden arches since the roll-out of the Big Mac in 1969.

I should know. I was there in 1969. I took the Big Mac national. Way back when hamburgers still sold for 15, I had just graduated magna cum ketchup from McDonald's Hamburger University.

My title was New Product Development Coordinator, and my responsibilities, aside from proving how many ways McDonald's could not sell a roast beef sandwich, included putting the finishing touches on the Big Mac prior to introducing it across the country.

Can't take credit for inventing the Big Mac. A McDonald's franchisee in Pittsburgh did that, though he called it, if I recollect properly, the Blue Ribbon Burger. Actually, he didn't invent it either. Both Howard Johnson's and Bob's Big Boy were frying double-decker hamburgers well before the Big Mac was nary a gleam in Ronald McDonald's eye.

But I was in on the blending of the Big Mac's "secret sauce." Every week our supplier, Conway Seasonings, flew into Chicago and to McDonald's test kitchen in Addison. They'd pour out maybe a dozen variations of Big Mac sauce. McDonald's top executives would grab a handful of spoons and, taking care not to double-dip, taste each sauce, scrutinizing its flavor subtleties and comparing the amount and size of diced pickle. What no one would admit was that after tasting one or two Big Mac Sauce variations, the others all tasted the same. We finally settled on one that had just the right shade of pink, the appropriate concentration of diced pickle and which, rumor had it, contained a soupon of chutney to bring out a beefy flavor.

Another hurdle was keeping the Big Mac big. This was an era when burgers were wrapped with wax sandwich wrap. Trees ruled. There were no boxes to protect hamburgers from crushing when stuffed into a bag. Weren't even any McTrays back then. Everything was bagged. A Big Mac crammed into a bag emerged a Little Mac, a squashed Little Mac. Our solution — a paper-board collar that encircled the Big Mac prior to wrapping.

Then there's the lettuce. McDonald's had never before needed lettuce. We had to set up new suppliers throughout the country. In the course of three months McDonald's went from selling no lettuce to becoming the nation's largest purchaser of lettuce. That was the fun thing about McDonald's. The scale. Incredible power for a 22-year-old kid. If I wanted to test a left-handed spatula, a dozen manufacturers were begging to make one in hopes of becoming a McDonald's supplier.

Finally — ta-dah — the Big Mac was ready for national introduction — national roll-out, actually. The first new hamburger to be added to McDonald's menu, along with a new bun, lettuce and different packaging, meant operational trauma for a restaurant as systematized as McDonald's. Unlike the nationwide introduction of the Arch Deluxe, we had to roll-out the Big Mac slowly, one market at a time.

My office became Big Mac central. Went out and bought a gigantic magnetic board. Divided it into regions of the country. Wrote the name of each McDonald's TV market on a magnetic strip. Arranged the strips on the board.

You wanted the Big Mac in your market, you had to go through Holly Moore.

The rest is fast food history.

But I digress. We're talking McDonald's new Arch Deluxe — not those three months in 1969 when I was the most powerful man in the fast food industry. Of course I had to try an Arch Deluxe. Headed to the McDonald's on Delaware Avenue. Went all the way — ordered an Arch Deluxe with bacon.

At the table I scientifically dissected my Arch Deluxe. McDonald's buns don't have tops and bottoms, they have crowns and heels. This is no ordinary bun. It's a potato bun. Has a crease in the top and a sprinkling of seeds, like a kaiser roll. But this is not a kaiser roll, either — it's a squishy-squashy sponge of a bun with all the brawny fortitude of Wonder Bread.

On the crown, a shot of "Arch Sauce," a blend of mayonnaise and adultish stone-ground mustard. Between the crown and hamburger patty — lettuce, a slice of hothouse tomato and a slice of really, really, really yellow processed cheese. The specs call for onion, but I couldn't find any. The meat patty itself is your basic quarter-pound patty or, in burger talk, "four to a pound." The patty is cooked a thorough well-done and then some. On the bun's heel — a shot of ketchup and, if ordered with bacon, a slice of pepper bacon which, while peppery, was also as salty as a slice of country ham.

Combined — it's your basic bacon cheeseburger with lettuce and tomato. Too low a meat-to-bun ratio (more McSpeak — used to describe one's ability to discern the presence of a meat patty, the higher the better) for my taste and too salty. Liked the Arch Sauce and the pepperiness of the bacon.

But, not to flaunt my post-graduate work, I also have a degree from Whopper College. I know the Whopper. I like the Whopper. And McDonald's Arch Deluxe is no Burger King Whopper.

Melange: Cheesesteak crossroads of the world? Has to be Tony Luke's. In my last column I mentioned taking Doug Rodriguez, chef owner of New York's Patria restaurant there during Book and the Cook for his first cheesesteak. As we were leaving, after having tasted nearly one of everything, who should pull up but Hawaii's premiere chef, Sam Choy. Sam was in town working with Philadelphia Fish & Company's Kevin Meeker. Last time the two had seen each other was at the kick-off for Planet Hollywood's new celebrity theme restaurant, "Chef's of the World," which will feature the ethnic cuisines or six of the world's top chefs, including Doug and Sam...

Enjoy,

Holly Moore