I’ve heard the hoopla. This McRib “sandwich” business from McDonald’s is supposed to be incredible. It has a rabid fan base who beg for it’s appearance on the menu (McRib background for all you history buffs: After poor sales it was removed from the menu in 1985. It was reintroduced in 1994, staying on the menu until 2005. From 2006 onward, it was made available for a short time each year).

I’ve never eaten one before but because I’m a sucker for advertising, trends and sometimes saying “ah screw it I’m not making dinner tonight,” I bought one tonight.

At $2.99, this “sandwich” was a fairly priced item and it even came in a nice box instead of wrapped in paper. Enough to fool me into thinking I was in for something special.

And it was good. Real good. Well, the sauce was amazing and the bun tasted exactly like what you would want from a bun. I can’t really speak for the meat. The meat didn’t really have a taste as far as I could tell. To be fair, the rib-shaped patty didn’t really stand a chance, it was slathered in that delicious sauce therefore it was impossible to tell what it actually tastes like. It reminded me of the pasta theory: pasta doesn’t really taste like anything. Pasta is a vehicle for sauce. Just as the McRib sandwich is a vehicle for that gooey barbecue sauce.

My McRib. Drowning in signature BBQ sauce

Obviously McDonald’s knows the sauce is key to the McRib fan base because they are literally drowning the sandwiches in it. Is the McRib sandwich deserving of seven Facebook pages, a TIMES article, and a special map locator? I don’t know, but I gotta get more of that sauce.