KFC has invaded New Zealand and they are crazy about the Colonel’s chicken. There are stores everywhere.
Matt knew someone who swore that one particular KFC outlet had better chicken than other stores and he drove out of his way to get it. Matt kind of laughed but this guy really believed it. How do you explain the methods used to guarantee the uniformity of fast food?
When I was buying my car, the salesman, knowing I was from the U.S., asked whether I liked KFC because he loved it. I confessed that I had not eaten Kentucky Fried Chicken in decades. This puzzled him. I told him I was not really a fast-food person. This was also puzzling to him. Apparently, we have the reputation of living off food from places like McDonalds and Pizza Hut and now, KFC. And why wouldn’t we since we export all of that junk to the rest of the world?
One thing that really messed with him was portion sizes. He could not believe how big the portions were. I regaled him with stories about the 7-Eleven Big Gulp and the even larger drinks they offered. He had never heard such tales and puzzled over that too. “You mean they sip on that drink all day?” Yes, I said, many people do just that. “Doesn’t it get warm?” Yes, I responded it becomes just a big cup of warm sugar water. He grimaced.
That was so depressing that I have decided it is best to just avoid the topic all together. There is no explaining American fast food.
(As an aside, I can remember vividly when, on days she did not have time to make dinner, my mother stopped for Kentucky Fried Chicken, as it was then called. We loved it then, and maybe if I tried it now, I’d love it just as much. I am not sure. But not the sides. No. That gravy was never, ever good. Even the Colonel agreed with that point. See this article.)
A Yank Among the Kiwis 