I put two Happy Meals in the smoker and then I ate them

namaste

Good morning, dearest clowns!

We’re in the thick of summer (jeez, it’s halfway through July already), and I’ve been cooking outside a lot. The weather’s permitted, and I always like a reason to soak up some rays and accidentally burn a piece of chicken.

As part of my day job at The Takeout, brands will sometimes send me things to try out. It’s almost always stuff to eat or drink, which is awesome, because now we have 2382572 bottles of hot sauce laying around the house. But on more rare occasions, it’s equipment. In today’s case, Camp Chef sent me a whole-ass pellet smoker to cook with, and I am trying to take as much of an advantage of it during the Chicago summer as I can, especially this year, since we spent last summer holed up and scared.

I’ll have smoker pieces up at The Takeout as early as this week, as I get to know the device better (so far it’s worked out very well, but I still have a lot to learn), so don’t forget to follow my work there, as I do some decidedly more normal cooking.

But you know. I also felt the need to do something on the newsletter. For all of you. Because not only am I the greatest food writer in all of history, I’m also transforming into the greatest barbecue pitmaster known to man and I’m not even a suburban dad.

“Hey babe,” I said to Davida, “What should I put in the smoker?”

“How about a Happy Meal?” she said. I sat in stunned silence.

You read the newsletter.

You know what’s about to happen next.

Fortunately, this time I didn’t have to ask for 10 packages of Sweet ‘N Sour sauce from McDonald’s.

All I had to ask for was two different Happy Meals. I ordered a four piece Chicken McNugget meal, along with a cheeseburger version. I asked for fries with one order, and apple slices with the other. Both came with the same Bugs Bunny toy from Space Jam. You can make the ball roll around on his head, which is a perfect use of nature’s dwindling resources, and not at all a reason why the Earth appears to be eating us all slowly.

Now, my original idea was to smoke the entire meal, including the toy, but after consulting with my friends Tuan and Hannah, they highly advised against smoking it. “Volatile plastic is nasty stuff,” they said.

Okay, fine. I guess I won’t poison myself this week.

I put the McNuggets, cheeseburger, fries, and apple all on a piece of aluminum foil and I set the smoker to 225°F.

After all, with barbecue, low and slow is the name of the game, right? At least, that’s what everyone always says. My plan is really just to make shit up as I go along.

My original angle of attack was to smoke the Happy Meals for a few hours, but apparently I am extremely good at planning, and I ran out of pellets after 30 minutes.

As you can see, this thing comes with some sick technology.

It even has a cell phone app that keeps track of the smoker for you. Good thing I ignored it for almost an hour after it told me it had to shut itself off, due to lack of fuel.

Once I noticed, I refilled the hopper and said to myself, “Dannis, it’s a good thing you’re such a details person.”

Here’s what the food looked like before I started the smoker back up.

You’re not supposed to peek, but since the machine had been off for a while already, there wasn’t any smoke or heat to lose. The differences are subtle, but if you compare this food to the earlier photo, the apples shrank just a touch and the fries became slightly brown. Just like my underwear always is.

After two hours, I decided to take the food out.

Hmm. The contents of the Happy Meal didn’t look terribly different.

The apples shriveled up a bunch, and the fries had taken on a decidedly unhealthy bronze color, but the cheeseburger and McNuggets looked about the same.

I took the food inside and we began our intrepid taste test.

Honestly, the apples were decent.

The small pieces had dehydrated into little chips, and the bigger pieces had more of a meat-like texture to them. Considering they weren’t seasoned at all, they had great flavor, with a touch of concentrated sweetness and a savory smokiness that crept up on you. A smoked apple compote would be good. My ass would be good smoked too.

We didn’t necessarily agree on this one. Davida said, “This apple tastes like eating a cigarette butt.” Who doesn’t love eating butts?!

Next, we tried the fries.

I watched as Davida had her first bite and tilted my head as I heard a loud audible crunch come from her direction. Then I took my first bite and realized that the fries had pretty much dehydrated in the smoker, and were now very much like potato straws, with a bit of smoke, but nothing I’d consider too overwhelming. They were actually pretty good. Maybe you really can’t screw anything up in a computer-controlled smoker!

It was hard to tell if the McNuggets had changed, if at all.

But after one bite, I realized the exteriors had become extremely crisp, sort of like a cracker, with a distinct smoky flavor that wasn’t too strong. Maybe we were onto something, because I know I could happily house a 10 piece.

The insides had turned chewier; any more time in the smoker and then they’d have gotten rubbery, but at this point, they were perfectly edible.

After some close examination, it did look like the the meat was ever-so-slightly pink, as if it’d taken on a slight smoke ring, but I couldn’t tell if that was just my imagination playing tricks on me. I polished the rest off with barbecue sauce and declared myself a winner. A winner of life.

And finally, the centerpiece: The smoked McDonald’s cheeseburger.

Again, like the fries and McNuggets, the burger did not appear to have been transformed much. Except when I touched the top bun, I realized the entire thing had gotten stale. It made a hollow knocking sound when I rapped my knuckles against it.

Davida tried sawing into it with a knife, but was met with some resistance, including the bottom bun.

After a pretty arduous hack job, she finally got a piece off and bit into it. She said, “This is good if you want McDonald’s that’s been sitting in a car for three weeks.”

What a strange textural experience.

Because the bun had dried out so much, it was sort of like bread jerky, without a ton of smoke to it. I kind of had to wrestle with chewing it a little. The meat was mostly unaffected, but I’m sure it was dryer than it would have been if I had just bitten into it fresh, like a normal human being. But it’s been a long time since I was a normal human, and I’ve since transformed into some kind of lizard monster destined to walk the Earth for eternity.

I think some of the exposed beef patty had started to cure in the smoker, however.

I know this is a horrendous and somewhat violent-looking photo, but see the pink at the bottom portion of the patty there? I really do think that was a smoke ring beginning to form.

The toppings had transformed slightly; the cheese took on a strange clotted texture, while the ketchup and mustard had become very thick. But for some reason I kept eating it. And secretly, deep down in my dirty place, I liked it. McDonald’s has deconditioned me from natural fruit and vegetables to the point where a food already full of preservatives, run through a smoking process meant to preserve food even further, has rendered me into a being who can only subsist on garbage to survive. I have become a monster. And now, a pitmaster.

Hmm. Maybe I should do the true ambrosia of the gods next.

That’s right, Taco Bell.

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As always, I love you guys, and see some of you in your inboxes later this week. With a smoked Burrito Supreme, hopefully, if weather permits.