I ordered a cheeseburger with bacon and avocado at G Burger in Fountain Valley the other night, and this cheeseburger Jenga game is what came out: a burger with an American cheese base, a bacon crucifix, the Leaning Tower of Produce, and levitating yuppie weeds between two enormous pieces of bread.
It's an astonishingly beautiful food sculpture, and it was absolutely impossible to eat. I managed to scrunch it down by removing the foot-long skewer that held it together, deconstructing the burger somewhat, and pressing down hard. Only then was I able to insert the sandwich into my mouth, which is an impressive feat, given that I can open my jaws impressively widely. (Go ahead, make your jokes now. I'll wait.)
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The problem, of course, was that bun, already stressed by the weight of the food on top of it, disintegrated utterly; I ended up having to eat the entire thing without setting it down, and yet I still got cheese, avocado and sauce all over my hands. I felt pornographic trying to fit it into my mouth, like the next thing I should have done was rub the avocado on my areolae. Carl's Jr.'s advertising agency would have had a field day with it. It came with a fork and knife, too, as though this were France or some other benighted place that doesn't know how to eat a hamburger.
The last time I went to G Burger was at the original mother ship in La Habra, and I certainly don't remember the burgers being giant, skewer-attached meat phalluses. I remember them being excellent burgers. This was not an excellent burger; this was a salade composée on top of a piece of meat.
Beauty is one thing, but construction counts. Please don't sit next to that burger during an earthquake.