|The Promise. Glistening in the Light.|
|The Delivery. Skulking in the Shadows.|
This should have been good. Okay, maybe "good" is too strong of a word but it should have been ... I mean, come on Jack-In-The-Box, if your marketing suits are going to come up with a great hybrid word like "swavory" the minimum that you could have given we bobblehead and antenna ball buying suckers was a worthy breakfast sandwich. The. Minimum.
Have you considered, Jack-In-The-Box that what you have given the world is almost an entire breakfast that anyone with one normal-sized hand can hold in that hand? Oh, the power of that idea. The glory. It's breakfast whittled down to its finest components: a fried egg, a sausage patty, a melting slice of cheese and ... yes ... waffles. The result should be an engineering marvel and a wonder of modern fast food technology. As an added bonus it isn't piled into a ridicule-ready sadness bowl. Huzzah ... right?
Nope. It should have at least been a decent snack. It wasn't. It was a great idea until it was run through the fast food lexicon: a fried egg product, a snausage patty, a melting slice of Amerigag cheese and two sickly sweetened waffles. To make it worse the sandwich is so small that even a person with one tiny hand could have held the sloppy mess comfortably while running a wee marathon.
You got me, Jack. You pulled a fast one. My four bucks or so is yours. I'd have expected better from a spokescharacter so fluent in "breakfast all day" but I guess that my expectations were set rather high for a fast food breakfast sandwich. Honestly, I've had a better snack at Ikea and that snack kind of sjücked.
Your waffle breakfast sandwich has, however, inspired me to make my own, better, version at home. Right now I'm thinking egg, queso, chorizo, and blueberry waffles. I'll check back in with the results.
I'll show you swavory.