Pale, sickly fries and unsavoury behaviour in the car park, this was a Maccie Dees like no other
It’s time for a McDonald’s review. I feel both a bit of a ‘yay’ and ‘yak’ coming on. I’ll admit it, I’m not a huge fan of Ronald McDonald. I take a big issue with its spindly fries, wafer-thin burgers and elasticated orange cheese… Yes, I’m a total prat.
But it’s hard to let go of attachments formed in early childhood. I do remember buzzing with excitement as a little boy on my family’s none-too-regular trips to McDonald’s.
The gleaming white of the restaurant beneath the yellow M sign seemed to match the overstimulii of its food, while teeny-weeny plastic toys of ‘The Little Mermaid’, ‘Batman Returns’ or whatever else was at the cinema kept us little ones firmly schtum for at least half an hour.
I still have a soft spot for its milkshakes, which were, at best, a quarterly treat. But not these days. It’s estimated around 4 million of us are served on McDonald’s nearly 1,500 counters across the UK each day. That’s a lot of orders.
Inevitably then, with such a huge operation comes snarky reviews. London’s Maccie Dees don’t do particularly well on TripAdvisor. The branch on Brixton High Street is frequently cited as the worst in London, with a 2.2 rating and a harrowing review from MyLondon.
Perhaps worse is South Ruislip’s McDonald’s, with a 1.4 rating. It’s not yet had the privilege of a MyLondon review, but it has earned street cred with headlines of a thieving manager, ‘intimidating’ Uber Eats drivers and for the final touch, Conservative Party leader Kemi Badenoch putting in shifts at the counter, ready to take your order like a glaring pillar of moral conscience. What a place.
Still, there’s one place lower. McDonald’s drive-thru in Stewartby Road, Chingford, has a fabulous 1.2 rating on TripAdvisor. One reviewer blasted it as “the worst McDonald’s of all time”, adding: “Every time I visit, I’m waiting for food as the Deliveroo drivers seem to take priority, drive-through will take at least 10-15 mins to get through. Avoid this place if you value your time.”
“Worst McDonald’s in history”, proclaims another, adding, “If I could leave zero stars, I would; they never have milkshakes or anything piping hot. The queues are ridiculous and the delivery drivers are all over the car park.”
Is this fair? Well, I went along to Chingford to find out. This McDonald’s is on the edge of London, and it feels like it. Far away from Chingford tube station, it’s perched on a bridge next to the River Lea, on the other side of Enfield.
It looks a bit like a motel, with a square car park filled with assorted characters. One man under the influence stumbles around the cars at the drive-in, but he’s friendly enough and says hello.
That’s more than can be said for the employees. Inside is bright and clean, I will give it that much, with plenty of children playing. But, at the time of my visit, there are no staff taking orders, it’s all done using screens while orders are fleetingly dropped at the counter. I place mine, a double cheeseburger, fries and a Coca-Cola with no ice.
I’m distracted by my phone as I finish my order. Immediately, I panic as it prints no receipts, and I’ve missed my number on the screen. I figure out I’m likely to be ‘number 65’ as it appears on the big screen, and surely enough, it’s my order. Served within five minutes.
I check my Coca-Cola, and I’m pleased there is no ice, but it’s underpoured by a good couple of inches. Is this punishment?
I wander to my table with a clear view of the car park. I’m just about to tuck into my burger when I notice the car parked directly in front of me. The passenger charmingly relaxes with their bare feet up on the dashboard, giving us diners an unobstructed view of their fat, sweaty soles.
Forget the edge of London, this feels like the edge of civilisation. I wonder if I could take a picture for this review, but nah. That would make me look like a wrong ‘un.
Feeling slightly put off, I examine the contents of my burger. The patties are wafer-thin as ever and dried out at the edges, while the pickle looks more grey than green. I abandoned said pickles after a nibble.
But my fries are a thing to behold. Golden fries? Ha! These are the whitest, sickest-looking anaemic fries I’ve ever had in my life. I manage a few mouthfuls, and they are, as predicted, slightly undercooked. I feel a cold squish in my mouth at the third bite, and decide that’s enough.
Can I go now? But alas, this is a review. Perhaps I could inspect the toilets? Or try a milkshake? But, the God’s honest truth is, I’ve had my fill of the place. I don’t want to linger there any longer than the staff who flee the counter at the speed of light.
I dispose of my meal and wander back out to the car park. The same friendly guy under the influence is loitering about and waves me goodbye. An enduring presence, one way or another. A bit like McDonald’s.
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