I Survived Arby’s Meat Mountain Sandwich

There have been many times on this blog where I have poked fun of fast food with my endless well of snark. From the time I saw a deep fried Big Mac on a stick, to a godless abomination that is a Cheeto filled with mac and cheese to Taco Bell’s latest attempts for humans to play Russian Roulette with their health by making deep fried chicken a taco shell.

So when I saw that Arby’s was mocking everything we hold to be dear and sane by saying “(REDACTED) it, just put all the meat on a bun!” I realized I had two options: One, poke fun of it like I have before or Two, enter the belly of the beast and consume one of the damn things and write about that.

Because I am full of terrible ideas at times, I chose the latter.

One does not simply “eat” a Meat Mountain sandwich. Because this thing contains the following: Pepper bacon, roast beef, cheddar cheese, Angus beef, smoked brisket, corned beef, pit smoked ham, Swiss cheese, roast turkey, chicken tenders all on a star cut bun clocking in at an astonishing 1030 calories, you do not merely eat this thing, you survive it.

I told the newsroom at the Bemidji Pioneer about this idea, and they seemed both horrified and amused. It is easy to say you are going to do something, but quite another to actually do it.

I will not lie, I was secretly hoping the Arby’s here didn’t actually sell these things. Because the closer I got to my destination, the more anxiety filled my system at the thought I would actually have to go through with this if they did, and what unspeakable horrors would come out of my system in the next 24 hours after consuming it. And as you can tell from the photo above, they did make them, allowing me to consume something that sounds like it came to Clive Barker in a fever dream.

So I walked to the counter and ordered the — possibly fatal — sandwich at my local family friendly Arby’s. The cashier then asked me a question that at first I couldn’t wrap my brain around. “Would you like to make this a meal,” he asked. The thought of downing this monstrosity with a Coke and curly fries was too disturbing to imagine, so I politely declined — a decision I am now positive prevented me from dying during my dinner break.

There was a brief moment where I was sure I would have to sign a form declaring Arby’s not responsible in the likely case my heart bursts through my chest like that scene in “Alien.”

The drive back to the office was also filled with a potpourri of emotions ranging from fear to joy to hunger back to fear again as I occasionally looked down upon the brown bag that contained my dinner and perhaps Exhibit A for my autopsy later on.

Once I got back to the office, the sense of dread mixed with hunger hung over me as I unwrapped the Meat Mountain. I did have to brace myself as I took my first bite.

How was it, you ask? It was (REDACTED) delicious. That first bite was a meat lovers dream come true. I thought for sure I wouldn’t be able to taste any difference between the greasy meats I was shoveling into my mouth, but I could. And two bites in I had the wind knocked out of me as I thought “Dear God, what am I doing to myself” as I cried on the inside.

After that, it was all endurance to finish the damn thing. Because this sandwich is huge, it was no easy task getting it all the way into my system. I sweated, I burped, I had to take numerous breathers as I was shoveling Arby’s Meat Mountain Sandwich into my face like no sane person should.

But I was determined, and hungry, and because I hadn’t eaten all day the latter took over and like Mickey in “Rocky” urged me on to go the distance. Except instead of boxing, I was eating a ridiculously large sandwich. But the spirit was the same, or so I keep telling myself.

And within 15 minutes, I had finished the beast in all its glory. I heard Queen’s “We Are The Champions” in my head as I sat back and allowed the sadness and shame wash over me as my body began to digest this thing I just put into it like a food masochist.

How did I feel after? (REDACTED) terrible. I felt like I was hit by a truck that was followed by a clubbing by that barbed wire bat Negan uses in “Walking Dead.” It was not pleasant, and all my energy was sapped, leaving me feeling fat, full and a little depressed by what I had just done.

My final verdict: It is a tasty sandwich and I enjoyed it, but the after effects are pretty brutal. Eat with extreme caution.