Untitled Document

Places: Burger King, Wendy’s
Items: Triple Whopper, Classic Triple
Price: $3.99 each

As our longtime readers know, the Wendy’s Triple is our favorite lunch ever. But it’s so decadent, we Lunch Guys only dine on it for special occasions – birthdays, weddings, New Year’s Eve parties.

And food fights. With Burger King muscling into triple territory with its new Triple Whopper – tied to the massive marketing of King Kong – we had to have a burger showdown. This one is epic, like Godzilla vs., well, a giant gorilla. Which behemoth will earn the “Triple” crown?

Chris: Tom, both of these burgers were monsters. I sat the BK Triple and the Wendy’s Triple side-by-side on my desk. Then suddenly ashamed, I hid them with a napkin before a co-worker could see me stuff my face with enough beef to feed our entire accounting department. But then I took a deep breath and tore in. And tore, and tore, and tore. Tom, I scared myself. Combined this was about 1 1/2 pounds of patties – plus buns, cheese and almost identical condiments of tomato, lettuce, onions, pickle and mayo. And yet once I got the taste of meat, I think I might just have been able to eat both of them. I too had become a monster. I guess you are what you eat.

And if I could eat only one, I’d still choose the Wendy’s Triple. The Triple Whopper is admirable, but it’s a little drier and the flame-grilled flavor to me has always tasted too artificial – made more obvious with three Whopper pancakes stacked up. Wendy’s has perfected the made-fresh bold meatiness that shines here, retaining juiciness that binds the three patties into one cube. Big bonus points come from having cheese on both the top and bottom, which encases the cube in dairy wrapping paper. Wendy’s is the true burger king.

Tom: Chris, you are a braver Lunch Guy than I. There’s no way I could have eaten one of these in public…let alone two. My shame started at the ordering process. The order takers at both places asked me if I wanted cheese or fries with my burger and I quickly declined so they’d think I was health-conscious. Even when the BK cashier handed me my booty (the bag felt like there was a brick in it), I swear he gave me a condescending look. Slightly fazed, I pulled over to eat the sandwich alongside the rest of those with Kong-sized appetites--I swear I couldn’t even get a true bite on the unruly monster. The tomato was so dwarfed by the stack of beef it looked more like a slice of maraschino cherry. Plus, with the oversized BK bun being kind of dry and crumbly, I ended up with a giant mess. Luckily there was a Wendy’s across the street.

The Wendy’s Triple came out hot and juicy, just as promised and with its soft buns the whole thing went down so easily you could have sworn it was a…double. And boy was it great. The densely packed patties of flavor were dripping with grease and juice against which Wendy’s provided me one napkin. It had all the chance a lone sandbag had against Hurricane Katrina, but this was far from a disaster.

Chris: No, this was pure art. Let’s push McDonald’s now to release a Triple. C’mon, supersize it! And then sometime in this century, it’s inevitable that one of these chains will debut the 1-Pounder. I’d be all over that. In fact, Tom, you’ve seen those Wendy’s commercials with 10 or so patties stacked up? I’m telling you right now, I’d eat a Wendy’s burger as high as the Empire State Building.

Tom: Chris, I’m going to disagree. We don’t need another big ugly monster (King Kong producer take note). The Triple Whopper was literally too much of a good thing. A triple Mac would just be too much. Wendy’s is the only gargantuan beast this world needs.