The McRib is more than just a simple McDonald’s burger to me

I can still clearly recall the first time I tried a McRib.

It was 1998. Billie Piper topped the charts with her unjustly overlooked second single, "Girlfriend," while the animated film Mulan was hitting theaters across the UK.

To celebrate this significant occasion (we're talking about Mulan, not Billie), McDonald's launched a new burger – the Oriental McRib, which takes center stage in the restaurant’s special ‘Tastes of the Orient’ menu (along with a truly terrible TV commercial I stumbled upon while writing this piece).

All I could say was that it didn’t remind me at all of any Asian flavors, but it was easily the tastiest thing I had ever tried.

The pork burger was juicy and topped with barbecue sauce and crispy fried onions, all nestled in a perfectly toasted sesame bun. As a child, I had a serious love for McDonald's, and it's surprising I haven't ended up with a lot of health issues from all those meals.

I fell in love with the McRib the moment I took my first bite. Its tangy flavor and succulent meat, combined with the satisfying crunch of the chunky fried onions, made my usual favorite, the McChicken sandwich, seem lackluster by comparison.

I had discovered my new go-to dish, the comforting meal that I knew would always provide me with happiness whenever I needed it.

Then one day, when I went back to the Golden Arches for what might have been my tenth McRib of the month, it was gone. Completely disappeared without a word of farewell.

Looking back, I realize that was likely my first genuine encounter with grief. Before that, my understanding of losing someone close was shaped by scenes like Littlefoot grieving for his mother in The Land Before Time and Simba witnessing his father, Mufasa, being killed by a herd of stampeding wildebeest.

In that moment, I found a sense of connection.

Naturally, I continued my weekly visits to McDonald’s, and before long, I came to appreciate the simplicity of a McChicken sandwich alongside six chicken nuggets smothered in barbecue sauce.

Life continued, and I came to terms with the possibility that I might never taste the McRib again. However, I found happiness in other things.

During my time at university, I encountered a person named Iain who would later become my closest friend. I can’t pinpoint the exact moment, but we discovered that we both loved the McRib.

He shared the same memories as I did. When I discussed the McRib with the same enthusiasm that others reserve for their childhood heroes, I could sense that he understood me completely, just as I understood him.

In 2014, something I never imagined would happen took place. I was surprised to find the McRib back on McDonald's menus, no longer mistakenly referred to as 'The Taste of The Orient.' I realized right then and there that my waistline would never be the same.

Now that I'm in my twenties and have gained some perspective on life, I realized that our time together was precious and fleeting. I made the most of the few weeks we had. I indulged in more McRibs during that time than any doctor would advise for an entire lifetime. Although my stomach didn't appreciate it, every single bite was worth it.

On the day we had to part ways, my roommate and I gathered at the McDonald’s on Oxford Street. We both got two McRibs, and according to my Instagram, it has been exactly 504 weeks since then, a moment I captured in a heartfelt post filled with tears.

At least this time I was able to say a proper goodbye, send the McRib off, and find some solace in the fact that I enjoyed every moment of its presence. I can only hope that one day we’ll be together again.

Since the McRib was last available in the UK, I’ve had exactly 12 of them—one for each day of my stay in Japan. That country offers the McRib as a regular item on its far better menu.

Today, McDonald’s has reintroduced my favorite item to the menu, but only for a short period. At 36, I realize I can’t indulge in McDonald’s the way I used to in 2014 without feeling a sharp pain in my chest, a reminder that I'm approaching the next stage of life as a middle-aged fast-food fan.

This time, I'll approach things with a bit more care, or at least make an effort to do so.

However, the thrill of having the McRib back is something I can only liken to reconnecting with a school friend who moved overseas, with limited moments to catch up during their brief visits to the UK every few years.

This time, I've aged and life doesn't allow for daily conversations like it used to. When we do get together, things may not feel quite as they once did.

The joy of revisiting a childhood memory makes the McRib more than just a simple burger. While people may come and go throughout life, the McRib consistently reappears, remaining the same and dependable each time.

Do you have a story to tell? We'd love to hear from you! Feel free to reach out by emailing [email protected].

We'd love to hear what you think! Please drop your thoughts in the comments section below.

MORE: So the new England manager is from Germany—what’s the big deal? Let’s evaluate Thomas Tuchel based solely on his achievements.

My father constantly shares explicit stories about his romantic experiences.

Wynne Evans' terrible joke is the last thing that Strictly Come Dancing requires right now.

Subscribe to our newsletter for updates on events happening in London, reliable reviews, fantastic deals, and exciting contests. Get the highlights of London delivered straight to your email!

This website is secured by reCAPTCHA, and the Google Privacy Policy and Terms of Service are in effect.