I TRIED THE MAC ATTACK

In the not-really-shadow of Wrigley Field, across the street from a beer billboard under which a blonde in running shorts jogged like a gazelle, you'll find Rockit Burger Bar, a sports bar serving the Mac Attack, a hamburger with a bun made of fried macaroni and cheese.

This 100% comfort food alternative to the wildly popular ramen burger features two macaroni and cheese buns, a leaf of lettuce, a slice of tomato, and an 8-ounce Black Angus beef patty with Sriracha ketchup drizzled on top.

It costs $13. 

When I arrived, the place had just opened. A cluster of servers mingled near the rear of the bar. Sports shows played on the TVs.

I took a seat outside and surveyed the menu. The burgers and sandwiches had names like The Hottie, The Motherclucker, and The Gridiron. The guys had spiked hair. The girls, I suspected, were wearing Victoria's Secret underwear.

The Mac Attack wasn't on the menu. The brunette, blue-eyed waitress guessed for what I had come. 

"The Mac Attack?" 

"Yes," I said. 

She smiled. 

As the place filled up, the scenario repeated. Everyone was here for the stunt food.  

Eventually, the waitress reappeared and placed the Mac Attack before me. It came with a side salad. Why? I wondered.

In reality, it didn't look like this.

I picked up the burger; already, it was leaving a puddle of grease behind itself. I took a bite, and it fell apart in my hands. It was like eating a casserole of macaroni and cheese that happened to have a burger in it with your hands.  

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The Mac Attack after, Chicago, IL / Photo credit: Susannah Breslin

The mac 'n' cheese was treacly. Maybe because it has four cups of heavy whipping cream in it. The burger was very thin. Taste-wise, it didn't hold together. Its inventiveness was in its assemblage, not its consequence.

Nearby, a guy bit into his Mac Attack. The burger dissembled. Some landed in his beard. 

"Ha-ha," his friend across the table said. "I was kind of waiting to see how things turned out for you." The friend picked up his Mac Attack. The same thing happened. 

Looking around, I realized everyone who had ordered a Mac Attack was a man. Perhaps this was some sort of competition in which the man who ate the most absurd food item won. But were we winners?

I got up to leave the men to their Mac Attacks. The friend had given up and was eating his with a knife and fork. No one would be dissuaded.

Whatever the Mac Attack was intended to do, it's working. It was supposed to be available through Oct. 6. It's proved so popular they've extended its run.