Gather ‘round, fellow fast-food enthusiasts! It’s that magical time of year when the leaves turn, the air gets crisp, and—most importantly—the McRib makes its triumphant return to the McDonald’s menu. November may be the month of Thanksgiving, but let’s be honest, there’s another feast we’ve all been waiting for. So, forget the turkey and cranberry sauce—let’s celebrate the real reason for the season: the McRib!
Oh McRib, you glorious BBQ-sauce-drenched enigma. Where have you been hiding all these months? While we’ve been toiling through the year with our sad salads and self-discipline, you’ve been out there, lying low, playing hard to get. And now, as if from nowhere, you saunter back into our lives, dripping with that sweet, tangy sauce, promising a reunion that’s as short-lived as it is irresistible.
Like a mischievous ex who shows up just when you’re starting to move on, you remind us why we fell in love in the first place. We know you’re bad for us. We know we’ll regret it later. But the heart wants what the heart wants, and in November, the heart wants a McRib.
Let’s be real—November diets were doomed the moment the McRib came back. Sure, some of us try to make it to Thanksgiving with a semblance of self-control. But then the McRib returns like a delicious, barbecue-slathered speed bump on our road to restraint. And suddenly, we’re ordering not one, but two McRibs at the drive-thru. Maybe three, because you know, they’re only here for a limited time.
“Just one won’t hurt,” you say to yourself, the scent of BBQ sauce filling your car. But then you remember: What if this is the last time I ever see a McRib? And like that, you’ve convinced yourself that it’s basically your duty to stockpile these sandwiches like they’re going out of style—because technically, they are.
Forget pumpkin spice lattes or peppermint mochas—the true seasonal MVP is the McRib. It’s the culinary equivalent of Mariah Carey’s “All I Want For Christmas Is You” blaring through every department store. When the McRib arrives, you know it’s officially holiday season, even if it comes with a side of guilt and a few extra calories.
The McRib doesn’t judge you for eating it in your car while parked outside the gym. It doesn’t care if you’re halfway through a Whole30 challenge. The McRib just wants you to embrace the moment—preferably with napkins. Lots of napkins.
And while everyone else is posting pictures of their homemade pies and perfectly brined turkeys, you’ll be the hero of your friend group, proudly sharing that first saucy bite of your long-lost love on Instagram with the hashtag #McRibSeason. Because sometimes, you have to choose your own kind of joy.
Sure, there are critics who will question why we care so much about a sandwich that looks suspiciously like it was made from a rubber mold of ribs. But those critics have never felt the bliss of sinking their teeth into that pork patty, slathered in that too-good-to-be-true BBQ sauce, complete with the crunch of onions and pickles. They’ve never understood the thrill of finding that neon “The McRib Is Back!” sign glowing in the drive-thru window.
To those naysayers, I say: let us have our guilty pleasure. Let us indulge in this beautiful, messy, tangy, limited-time romance. The McRib may not be around forever, but while it’s here, it’s a reminder that sometimes, life is about the little things—like a sandwich that defies the laws of both nutrition and good judgment.
So Here’s to You, McRib
So here’s to you, McRib, you saucy seductress of November. May you fill our hearts (and arteries) with joy once again. May you continue to break our diets and make our wallets just a little lighter, one combo meal at a time. And may we never forget that no matter how many times you leave, we’ll always be waiting for your return, like the loyal, BBQ-loving fans we are.
This November, let’s raise a McRib (or three) to the sweet taste of seasonal bliss. Because when the McRib is back, life just tastes a little better—even if it means squeezing into those stretchy pants a little sooner than planned. Happy #McRibSeason, everyone!