In the history of McDonald’s, many sandwiches have come and gone. There was the McDLT, which kept the hot side hot and the cool side cool in a non-environmentally safe Styrofoam package; the Angus Burger, which featured a third pound of artery-clogging Angus beef on a bun, and the McKrabby Patty, which was only available in selected Bikini Bottom restaurants. But none of these had the continued popularity and near obsessive audience of a barbecuey piece of paradise that gourmands still search high and low for on a daily basis.
I speak of the McRib. Six inches of boneless pork patty, smothered in barbecue sauce, onions and pickles all covered by a soft sesame seed roll. Created in the early ’80s and appearing on and off McDonald’s menus since then, the sandwich has attained a cult following that sometimes rivals that of Deadheads or people who think Rush Limbaugh is the true leader of the Republican party.
Executives at the Golden Arches have noticed this fascination with the McRib and marketed the hell out of it by developing “Save the McRib” campaigns and holding “Farewell Tours” of the product. With the last tour taking place at the end of 2008, it seems like the McRib is gone for good. Or is it? Apparently, this little sandwich has more lives than According to Jim and keeps popping up in certain McDonald’s locations across the country and around the globe (it’s a staple of the restaurant’s menus in Germany).
Unfortunately, these appearances are not advertised nationally, which leaves many of you in a bind. So, how does one find a nearby location of Mickey D’s to sample the aromatic pork pattiness of a McRib? The Internet, of course! Thanks to barbecue-obsessed people like yourself there are a number of sites out there that help you find the closest location to devour a sandwich.
The best one is the McRib Locator, which works two ways. If you’re hankering for a sandwich you can set a date range to display the most recent sightings. Or, if you have just enjoyed a McRib you can enter information about the location where you dined (after you lick the sauce off your fingers) so others can partake in the blissfulness.
To see how accurate this was I performed a search for McRib sightings from the beginning of February until today. Around the East Coast Megaopolis there were very few sightings of the McRib, with only one confirmation in the Coatesville, Pennsylvania area. The largest confirmed concentration of the sandwich was in Arizona where it seems to have been put back on the menu as recently as this past weekend. Sadly, if you live in the Plains states you’re S.O.L when it comes to McRib sightings.
Look, you love your McRib, you need your McRib and you have access to the Internet. Find out the nearest McDonald’s location, rev up your VW van, and road trip it out for a delicious piece of heaven. Make sure you tell your friends about it so they can either come along or place a takeout order. If not, well, you may be strung up by your McRibs if they find barbecue sauce stains on your t-shirt.
I can’t speak for all the Plains states, but we had the McRib back for a short while in Central NE in January. They bring it back about once a year for a month or so and run pretty good promotions for it. If you buy any other premium sandwich, you can get a McRib for a buck. If you get a McRib meal, you basically get two for a dollar more.
I am a McRib fan, but I also understand this strategy. As much as I like the McRib, i also get tired of it rather quickly. I am guessing that McDonalds corporate figured out that it had high early sales and then a severe dropoff. Thus their elegant solution is to make it a promotional item with a planned end-date. Get the bump of sales from the re-introduction without the losses once people get tired of it.
IIRC, the McRib was actually created in Nebraska at the Food Sciences lab at the University as a way of utilizing the scrap meat left over when butchering hogs and processing the better known cuts of pork. It’s the pork equivalent of fish sticks or Chicken McNuggets. That’s why it’s so smothered in sauce — as a standalone item, it’s bland and fairly tasteless.
“That’s why it’s so smothered in sauce — as a standalone item, it’s bland and fairly tasteless.”
The magic of sauce. I love the McRib and I’m quite aware of the pathetic piece of meat it is, even you can even call it meat. It’s all about the taste, and the McRib tastes great.