The McDonald's Land Air & Sea Doesn't Mean Anything
I saw this on the subway a few weeks ago, and it’s probably what made me start writing this newsletter.
Despite the sight being really commonplace, I found it oddly moving. I will not explain myself.
I’ve been thinking a lot about McDonald’s lately. Much more than I normally do. For over a year, I’ve been chasing the feeling I had when I ate the Travis Scott meal for the first time, trying to pin down what was so special about it.
In the summer of 2020, I was slammed in a drive-thru when I had the Travis Scott meal, affectionately known as the Travvy Patty. (This was pre-Astro World disaster, and I associated his name with pretty much nothing.) We didn’t go on a whim, it was a pre-meditated excursion, specifically because of the advertising effectiveness of this specific meal.
This commercial looks really cool. To me, at least. I’m revealing how tacky I am. I like stop-motion, I like cool outfits. It feels super “McDonald’s”— toy-like and playful— but it’s done in a way that’s bold, smooth, and intentional. And sue me, but I really fell hard for the basic idea of this meal. It reminded me that everyone has a McDonald’s order, made unique for them. This meal isn’t just about liking Travis Scott (at the time I had no real clue who he was), it’s about reminding a customer that behind each meal is a unique person enjoying it.
The choice to get a Quarter Pounder with both mustard and ketchup intrigued me. I never had fries with tangy barbeque, and I usually order a Coke, not a Sprite. I also only get chicken sandwiches. At the drive-thru, I almost never go for another McDonald’s product other than what I’m used to because it’s just a risk I’m not willing to take. But with this new meal concept, McDonald’s led me through the unknown with another real person’s preferences as my guide. When I was eating the meal, I thought about all the different orders I’d never had before, and what sort of people ate them. And was my regular order something special to someone else?
I never really thought about how fast-food orders were a series of very many choices, each with some sort of private logic behind them. It was very effective marketing.
Anyway, I wasn’t the only one who was moved to buy this meal. McDonald’s had a hit on their hands. This is what led them to market several more “celebrity meals,” each more ill-fated than the last.
The next meal was J Balvin’s meal, an artist who I actually knew and liked! However, how fucking boring. Just a Big Mac with no pickles (horrible!), fries and ketchup, and an Oreo McFlurry. No regional “extra ice” sort of touches, and the one unique choice I disagreed with strongly. Insider Food ranked it as their least favorite celebrity meal. But hey, you can’t agree with them all!
Then, we got the BTS meal, which was a 20 piece McNuggets with new special sauces— Sweet Chili and Cajun Sauce. Sweet Chili was fine, but I found the Cajun sauce rank as hell. By the time this meal came out, other restaurants were catching on. Dunkin Donuts had a Charli D’Amelio drink, and Burger King had the Cornell Haynes Jr. Meal (???). But ultimately, I was disappointed in the BTS meal because it had lost the spark of what I wanted from those celeb meals- a real meal selection from a celebrity. McDonald’s can pump out a new sauce whenever they want, but I kind of liked knowing which celebrities actually ate fast food. (Though I do give it credit to be the only meal so far to come out with a unique product— the two sauces.)
My disappointment was growing as McDonald’s released the Mariah Menu (seemingly just a new value deal with Mariah Carey’s name on it?) and the Saweetie meals. At first, I was excited to try the latter, which was supposed to be a selection of weird and cool food combos.
However, I decided against trying one of the meal options at all when I found out they required a McDonald’s app download, and you had to order the items of the meal separately (burger, nuggets, fries) and put them together yourself. This was a far cry from the $6 Quarter Pounder deal in the Travis Scott days.
Now, I think there’s some good stuff here. I can see how a person could enjoy a tasty and maybe even exciting meal at McDonald’s by doing one of these things in one of the above ways. However, this menu is not a meal. It’s options, presented by Saweetie, for what may or may not be a good time if you put in the effort to have it. And when you get the separate foods, you have to see the David in the marble, choose an option, and carve out the meal yourself. I’m not sure if it’s about sharing a secret anymore, so much as suggesting the pursuit of a fantasy.
Also, to continue bitching, her sauce was just Sweet N’ Sour Sauce with her name on it. Boo!!! Tomato!!!!!
Anyway, McDonald’s new promotion is pressing pause on the celebrity endorsements, and diving headfirst into the “menu hacks” concept started with the Saweetie meal. That’s how we got to where we are today:
In this author’s opinion, we have gone too far.
At one point, I could order a Big Mac with no pickles, and think privately to myself “I wonder if this is what J Balvin feels like when he’s on tour :)” Now, you’ll find me going to McDonald’s alone to order a Big Mac, a spicy McChicken, AND a Filet O’ Fish for myself, and struggling to assemble it into an evil meat tower that no human could safely consume.
For a moment, I wanted to try the Land Air & Sea. But after watching some videos of people trying to eat this burger (and seeing all the bread and unfinished meat left behind), I began to wonder if the new McDonald’s sales gimmick is food made for absolutely no one.
I wanted the food remix, I wanted the challenge, I wanted the excuse to eat a fast-food meal. But I can’t ethically endorse eating this sandwich, it’s barely food.
And another question: How could the Land Air & Sea be so boldly advertised when behind the McDonald’s counter, no such thing exists? As consumers, we are being asked to formulate a truly heinous food object through our own free will, for no reason whatsoever. If McDonald’s is so proud of this item’s debut, could we at least be given the service of having it be made for us? Otherwise, it feels like McDonald’s doesn’t want to admit how abominable this idea is, or get its employees’ hands anywhere near such an upsetting “edible” structure. How could an advertised “menu item” never actually exist on a McDonald’s menu? Is a sandwich proposal all it takes to sell McDonald’s unchanged food? Is it because giving a customer this sandwich with no barriers to consuming it is somehow illegal?
That’s when I realized that this has been the McDonald’s strategy all along.
The reason I liked the Travis Scott meal was because I allowed my imagination to travel on its own. The burger wasn’t what delighted me— I delighted myself by thinking about what McDonald’s suggested by it. The quarter pounder, fries, and Sprite were always on the menu, and nothing about that combo meal has changed between today, the summer of 2020, or any day prior. The only new aspect of the meal was the invitation to imagine we were somebody else while eating it. I’ve been putting the sandwich together myself all along. I guess I’m just more willing to assemble some sandwiches than others.
I’d love to end this piece with a review of the Land Air & Sea, but I don’t think I can bring myself to buy three McDonald’s sandwiches and try to eat them. I’m sorry. I would do it if I thought it would bring me some sort of knowledge, or necessary experience, but I don’t think it would. I want it to, but that’s not enough. Some things aren’t more than the sum of their parts.
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