A Journey through “Transfatamerica”

Travel Blog  •  Michael Yessis  •  06.05.06 | 4:53 AM ET

imageWhat happens when a big city restaurant critic drives across the country sustaining himself by eating only fast food? I missed Frank Bruni’s story about his trek when it first ran in the New York Times recently, but the International Herald Tribune has it up now and it’s a great read. “My sample period ultimately spanned 9 days, 15 states, 3,650 miles and 42 visits to 35 different restaurants (I hit some more than once),” he writes. “It bequeathed crucial knowledge and invaluable lessons.”

Some of those lessons are:

I learned that Pennsylvania abounds in speed traps, West Virginia in roadkill and Texas in tacos, which can be found at Taco Cabana and Taco Bueno, Taco Villa and Taco Casa. A homogenous country? Not ours. The Mrs. Winner’s chicken franchises of Georgia gave way to the Carl’s Jr. franchises of Arizona, the scenery and sources of carbohydrates constantly changing.

And:

Flame, or at least a suggestion of grilling or broiling, matters. That’s a principal reason a Whopper bested a Big Mac, cooked on a griddle. It’s why the new roster of one-third-pound charbroiled Thickburgers at Hardee’s tasted better than the steamed slivers at Krystal, a White Castle analogue in the South.

And:

Buns matter. The large, doughy one on the classic Whataburger created ample space for three slices of tomato and a sense of heft that felt good in the hands, good in the mouth. The generously buttered, crisply toasted ones on Culver’s burgers, called butterburgers in honor of those buns, exalted whatever they encased, which included seared, loosely packed patties with more charred edges and, as a result, more flavor.

It’s a great hook for a story, and Bruni turns some clever phrases (“It was a roving binge as warped road movie: ‘Transfatamerica.’ Or maybe, given our cholesterol-oblivious plunge over a nutritional cliff: ‘Thelma and Disease.’”), but I’ve got to say: Better him than me. Forty-two fast food stops in nine days? That has to be more than Morgan Spurlock ate in a month in Super Size Me, and I saw the ailments that befell him.

Hope you and your stomach are recovering, Mr. Bruni.