Burger King BK Double Stacker

Again with the redundant titles! Do I need to look like a stuttering epileptic as I spit out these tongue twisters? Do I need the name of the restaurant not once, but twice in a nine syllable phrase? The Burger King BK Double Stacker sort of stacks, if you will, the odds against me. Despite being more or less able to qualify as a member of the Stackers team of trained midgets, the demographic for this food is sadly out of my reach.
The Stacker was built for MEN, god damn it, teenage boys and single dads who don't want any pansy vegetables on their burger. Consequently, that is also how I, a delicate flower of a woman, take my burger. So I threw caution and lettuce to the wind and went on another stealth lunch to get my prize.
As much as I wanted to get all four burgers and make a hilarious AT&T symbol joke on my dashboard, I had to listen to my therapist's advice and "think about other people and how my actions would make them feel." I rationalized that Keepitcoming would feel bad if I died in the driver's seat of the car in the driveway after ingesting 10 beef patties and many condiments and would likely blame herself and I couldn't do it to her, I really couldn't. So I ordered the Double, what I reasoned to be the midpoint of the set, and based it from there.

To my surprise, the burger was good- really good. I don't remember the last time I had Burger King, so I can assume it was in my deeply repressed childhood. Unwrapping the burger, I was tickled to discover that one of the noble Burger King's serfs had meticulously cut the single bacon strip into four pieces and had placed two pieces on top of each patty. I like the visual of such precision. The sammich was quite tasty overall. Breaking it down, the patties were surprisingly crispy yet tender on the inside, never mushy, but then again, I'm occasionally inclined to well done pieces of beef. One slice of cheese was definitely enough on this, as the bacon was already lost in the throes of sauce. "Stacker sauce" is obviously some variation of ketchup and mayonnaise, no surprise there, but for my tastes it was much too sweet and reminded me of a less flavorful barbecue sauce. The basic concept wowed me, though, more than I thought it would when I invested my two Washingtons into it. As I suspected, the double was the perfect size for snacking- the single would have been overwhelmed by bread and the triple or quad would have made me feel slimy and choked. Even by my last bite, I was staring this burger down and wishing that I had a drink to wash it down with.
What I like about this concept, though somewhat uninspired, is the price point aspect. From the Double to the Quad, bacon is basically at a fixed price point, an almost unheard of phenomenon. If you can justify that each dollar added onto the sandwich equals another burger patty, you're getting the bacon for free. With this fact in mind, there are plenty of hacks to ensure you're getting the most for your money. The sandwich breakdown has the same amount of bacon per sandwich, excluding the requisite dollar menu Single, with a patty added each time. For a little cash, it's easy to customize. The bacon tapers off after the single, and just goes up from there. If you want a bacon heavy experience, all you have to do is order two doubles instead of one quad, or four singles. Because the condiments are fixed, it's easy to get more or less for the same price.