Rumored to be gaining a cult following, the Mc10:35 is a combination of a McDonald's Egg McMuffin and a McDouble, to be ordered simultaneously at 10:35, allegedly one of the few times you can order off both the breakfast and lunch menus.

After securing both items, you take the egg and Canadian bacon from the Egg McMuffin and put it on the McDouble. Hail the Mc10:35.

I've been on a mission for some time for the perfect brunch meal. I'm a writer. I keep odd hours. I love breakfast but often wake up later in the morning after staying up all night to write. My mind says breakfast but my stomach craves lunch.

Could the Mc10:35 be a happy medium? I decided to go on a mission to find and devour this food of the gods.

Unfortunately, a wall of 5'1 McDonalds cashier moxie came between me and my sammich. She was happy to punch in my order for an Egg McMuffin but shook her head at the McDouble request.

"Lunch starts at 11 a.m."

She was toeing the company line. I asked nicely, flashed my pearly whites and even gave her a pathetic "come onnnnn" in an effort to break her. She pointed to the clock and said "11" and flashed back a smile of "sorry." Apparently the ability to order breakfast and dinner at once is only possible at some McDonalds.

But I wasn't giving up yet. I ordered just the Egg McMuffin for now, then came back at 11, my bag of breakfast in tow.

"McDouble. To go."

I'll need to tackle this beast in the privacy of my own home. I want to reheat the Egg McMuffin a bit, have unlimited access to drinks and a private restroom in case this all goes horribly wrong.

As I piece the feast together I begin to wonder how the chefs at Hamburger University will feel about us commoners tinkering with their precious creations. They aren't really open to unsolicited ideas. It's a shame because a couple years back I came up with this awesome idea while I wadding drunkenly through a ball pit at the McDonald's near my college. I wish I could remember it but the taser has had some side effects.

Ugh. Canadian ham. Bacon. Whatever. This poor excuse for an egg companion from our brothers to the north is a cured meat in the still open wounds of a gold medal hockey loss.

After the first few bites and swallows my thoughts race for a beverage choice to wash this sandwich down. I had fresh brewed coffee and a can of Diet Pepsi at the ready. Coffee wasn't pushing it down far enough. The soda proved to be a better tonic as it also brought to my throat a solid burp.

If I had some at my disposal I'd chug down a tall pint of that white chalk the hospital gives you before an MRI because it would cement this grease in my stomach and I'm sure some medical professionals will want to peek into my organs after this debacle.


I'm getting weak. Sluggish. Stomach expanding rapidly. I'm hallucinating that Ronald McDonald is driving me to the hospital, which by coincidence is exactly 10 minutes and 35 seconds from my house.

However, it's actually pretty delicious. My final verdict? I would have given this sandwich an A if not for the Canadian Ham. I could have cheated and taken it off to finish the sandwich but if I wanted this piece to receive any type of writing award, I knew I'd have to see this through to the end.

Chris Illuminati lives in New Jersey and is probably not going to win an award for this piece.