Battle of the Fast Food Chains: U.S. Versus U.K.

As my friends and I strolled down the bustling streets of London, capturing every memorable moment on our phones, we suddenly gave each other “the look,” one that indicates “I’m hungry.” The boys quickly pulled out their phones and searched “food nearby” and found one that appealed to all of them. The rest of us started walking behind them, following their lead, trusting they would take us to a top-notch food destination. “Where are we going?” I asked, turning to one of my friends. “Chipotle.”

I. LOVE. CHIPOTLE.

I shrieked in excitement at this news. “I have been craving this for MONTHS” I exclaimed. Chipotle is perhaps my favorite fast food chain of all time and since the day I left the States, I have been longing for one of their delectable burrito bowls. I did not know when the next time we’d meet would be. The day had finally come: I could satisfy my long-time craving.

I piled the contents of my bowl onto a wooden fork (Brits are obsessed with wooden utensils over plastic) and shoveled the food into my mouth: The first bite. It was delicious, yet a confused look was smeared across my face, as it tasted nothing like the Chipotle I was used to. There was a lightness to it. Less salt and fat perhaps, making it a bit blander and filling than I was used to.

I have found this to be a common phenomenon amongst food in the U.K. Sometimes I finish meals and wonder why I don’t feel horrible and I have deduced that this may be due to less salt and fat being utilized in the cooking of food here. There seem to be fewer processed goods as well; much of the food tastes fresher overall. Even food that is not considered "healthy" doesn't make me feel as bad as it probably would in the U.S.

Although I prefer U.S. Chipotle, I do prefer U.K. McDonald's. Two words: snack wraps. Why they don't have these in the States is beyond me. The garlic mayo wrap with a medium fry is my absolute favorite order. The fries and nuggets are exactly the same, yet the snack wraps are what make English McDonald's superior to me. The chicken-to-sauce and vegetable ratio is divine and upon finishing, I always feel fulfilled and happy.

The portions I receive at U.K. restaurants always appear to be perfect. There have been instances where my food comes out and I am concerned that I won’t have enough food to eat. Yet, every time I find myself feeling perfectly satisfied once I have finished my meal. I guess I am too used to massive portions in the U.S., where taking leftovers home is common. On the topic of restaurants, restaurants in the States ALWAYS bring water to your table no matter what. This is something that is not common in the U.K., thus this minute common practice has taken time to get used to.

In being away from home for so long, it is inevitable to miss the foods that I was so used to. Bagels and pizza are typical indulgences for anyone from New Jersey. The fluffiest pieces of bread for bagels and crust on pizza are curated. I miss my bacon egg and cheese on an everything bagel as much as I miss my penne vodka pizza. I miss the local spots for these delicacies and the faces that greet me so frequently in them.

Many stores that I find in the States are missed while in the U.K. for example, Trader Joe’s. I am a frequent shopper here and as I was preparing to leave the country, I researched if Trader Joe’s exists in the U.K. It does not, and this devastated me. Some of my favorite snacks can be found at that store: “crunchy curls” being my favorite. Although TJs is missed, I have found a love for Tesco in the U.K. Their sweet and salty popcorn and dips with lightly salted rigged potato chips are my favorites.

Something incredibly random yet worth missing is chicken parmesan. THIS IS NOT A THING HERE. Not even when I went to Italy was this an option on the menu. I believe most foods can be elevated with melted cheese on top, and I cannot understand why the Brits enjoy this on their chips (French fries) but not on their chicken.

Most of all, above all else, I miss my mom’s cooking. Her chicken noodle soup comforts me when I am ill, and her spaghetti and meatballs taste like a warm hug (and she is not even Italian). Her chicken, broccoli, and pasta dish (we don’t have a fancy name for this one) reminds me of home. The whiff of garlic and olive oil sizzling from a big pan on the stove fills the house and my heart. Thinking of these meals not only makes me miss the food she creates but my mom herself. I cannot wait to see her and her glorious cooking soon.