Cafe Reviews

KFC Double Down Terrorizes Fry Girl With Skeleton-Less Savagery

Did I miss something? Did I not get the memo from one Colonel H. Sanders stating that KFC fans want their fried chicken sans skeleton? Sure, I get the fish sandwich. No one wants the shock and awe of a fish bone swimming around in their mouth. But a piece of fried chicken? Really?

KFC's new no-bone zone features two offerings: the boneless filet and the Double Down chicken sandwich. Okay, I'll bite. I got my grip on the original recipe boneless filet first. This baby went south, fast — past the ol' Kentucky home of Colonel Sanders and right into Flopsville.

Yeah, you chow this chicken with your hands. True, you eat all fried chicken with your hands. But this one's boneless, and no bone equals no handle. This thing's slipped into a paper sleeve, and eventually that chicken's gotta fly the coop. Now, your mitt's wrapped around a greasy hunk of boneless meat. Sure, we've all done the McNugget two-finger, but that's different — the McNugget's small. Imagine four to six of those puppies fused together, transformed into a grease-oozing giganto-nugget. The grilled boneless filet has the same problem, only worse. It's not the fried chicken the Colonel's famous for. It's a flat, grilled mess. And when that baby takes leave of the sleeve, you're bare-handing a slimy piece of spineless poultry, too weak to squawk.

Ready for some gut-busting fun, bun-less style? Then you're ready for KFC's Double Down chicken "sandwich." The recipe is simple: Take two original or grilled boneless filets, and use them to sandwich two slices of rubbery cheese, overcooked bacon, and an unidentifiable orange sauce. The Double Down weighs in at 540 calories, 32 grams of fat and — wait for it — 1,380 milligrams of sodium. (Oddly enough, the grilled version is just as bad but has even more salt.) The only thing going down here is your head into a toilet or, if you're lucky, a trough.

Because I'm an idiot, I Double Downed at the drive-thru. After waiting for the microwave to cluck, I found myself trying to muscle a too-hot handful of nuked chick-wich (yeah, the sleeve said, "Caution: Hot!" but we know how that goes, right, McDonald's coffee lady?) out of its grease-soaked paper nest while endangering the lives of innocent motorists on Indian School Road.

Sorry, Colonel, I'm jumping off your no-bone/no-bun bandwagon. Leave the bun-less sandwich to the caveman and boneless to filet mignon. I want my fried chicken attached to something skeletal.

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Laura Hahnefeld
Contact: Laura Hahnefeld