Not Carl’s Jr. Day. Not National Cheeseburger Day. Not National Fast Food Day.
Just National Carl Day.
Naturally, that immediately raised an important question.
If there’s a National Carl Day, does Carl’s Jr. get to celebrate too?
I have no idea whether the people behind National Carl Day intended any connection whatsoever to the fast-food chain. My guess is they probably didn’t. But once the thought crossed my mind, there was really only one direction this was going to go.
So today’s photograph features a trio of Carl’s Jr. burgers from my FOOD FROM BAG TO BACKGROUND series.
Carl’s Jr. has always occupied an interesting place in fast-food history. The chain built a reputation around large burgers, unapologetic indulgence, and advertising campaigns that often generated as much discussion as the food itself. Beginning in 2005, a series of very sexy commercials featuring celebrities such as Paris Hilton helped make Carl’s Jr. one of the most talked-about names in fast food.
What makes today’s National Carl Day connection even more amusing for me is that years ago I actually had dinner with Carl, yes, that Carl, and his wife as guests in their home in Anaheim, California. He was a very interesting man, and both Carl and his wife were genuinely warm and welcoming people. At the time I certainly wasn’t thinking that someday there would be a National Carl Day, or that I would be photographing Carl’s Jr. burgers for a food photography project.
The burgers themselves were never subtle. Bigger portions, bigger flavors, and plenty of melted cheese were usually part of the formula. Looking at this photograph, it’s easy to see why Carl’s Jr. developed a reputation for building burgers that demanded attention.
So while National Carl Day almost certainly has nothing to do with Carl’s Jr., it seemed like a good excuse to revisit a brand that has been part of the American fast-food landscape for generations.
Then again, if your name is Carl, perhaps today belongs to you.
And if your name happens to be Carl’s Jr., maybe it does too.
You can see more from my FOOD FROM BAG TO BACKGROUND series, along with aviation photography, collections, and other projects at https://www.secondfocus.com Chances are you’ll find something unexpected waiting there.
A Burger King Whopper photographed against a black background with a large bite taken from the burger and the branded wrapper partially opened around it. The image shows the sesame seed bun, flame-grilled beef patties, lettuce, tomato, onions, pickles, cheese, and sauce in a more raw and consumed presentation tied to modern fast food culture and branding.
Yesterday I wrote about the introduction of the BIG ARCH from McDonald’s and the strange corporate authenticity debate that unexpectedly formed around it. That post ended up becoming less about hamburgers themselves and more about how massive fast food companies now perform for the public in real time, with every detail immediately analyzed, mocked, defended, or turned into marketing.
But the story really did not stop with McDonald’s.
Burger King quickly responded using the Whopper as its counterargument. Not a new burger. Not a limited-time release. Just the Whopper itself, the company essentially arguing that authenticity did not need to be engineered because they already had it.
That became the fascinating part of this entire fast food moment.
McDonald’s presented the BIG ARCH almost like a flagship corporate object, oversized, stacked, carefully engineered, heavily promoted. Burger King responded with flame-grilled familiarity and a deliberately less controlled image. The companies were no longer simply competing on taste or price. They were competing on who appeared more believable.
And honestly, that may be the most modern form of advertising possible.
The Whopper itself has a long history. Introduced in 1957, it actually predates the Big Mac and became Burger King’s defining product for decades. Larger, messier, harder to eat cleanly, more physically uneven than the carefully stacked advertising versions most companies prefer to show.
Which is why this photograph interested me.
Unlike the BIG ARCH image I photographed earlier, this one already has a good sized bite taken out of it. The wrapper is still there. The burger is compressed from the bite. Sauce and onions are shifting out of place. It looks handled because it was handled.
That changes the photograph completely.
The image stops being about idealized presentation and becomes more about evidence, consumption, and the strange reality of how people actually interact with fast food. The burger becomes less like advertising and more like an object moving through someone’s life for a few minutes before disappearing.
That tension has become part of what I am exploring with the Food From Bag To Background project.
Fast food companies spend billions trying to construct images around products like this. Commercials, slogans, campaigns, celebrity promotions, social media teams, engineered branding language. But once the wrapper opens and someone takes a bite, the entire performance starts collapsing back into something very physical and very ordinary.
And somehow that may be the most authentic part of the entire thing.
Two McDonald’s Big Arch burgers photographed against a black background, showing the oversized sesame and poppy seed buns, multiple beef patties, shredded lettuce, onions, pickles, cheese, and signature sauce. The image emphasizes the layered construction and excess associated with modern fast food burger marketing and presentation.
May is National Hamburger Month.
Which sounds simple enough until you stop and realize how much of modern American culture quietly revolves around hamburgers.
This year, the biggest burger story has probably been the introduction of the BIG ARCH from McDonald’s. Not just because it was another fast food launch, but because the entire thing unexpectedly turned into a strange cultural event involving corporate marketing, social media authenticity, public reaction, and billions of dollars sitting underneath all of it.
The burger itself was designed to be bigger, heavier, and more excessive than the traditional McDonald’s lineup. Two large beef patties, layered cheese, onions, lettuce, pickles, special sauce, and a large sesame and poppy seed bun. McDonald’s positioned it almost like a flagship object, the “most McDonald’s McDonald’s burger yet,” which is such a corporate sentence it almost becomes satire on its own.
Earlier this year, McDonald’s CEO Chris Kempczinski posted a promotional tasting video for the BIG ARCH. Instead of focusing on the burger, people focused on him. The small bite. The awkward delivery. The careful corporate language. Whether he looked comfortable eating it at all.
The clips spread everywhere. TikTok, YouTube reactions, business media, late-night commentary, memes, marketing discussions. Burger King even took shots at the situation publicly. Business writers started describing the entire thing as an “authenticity war” between fast food companies trying to appear relatable in an era where consumers instantly dissect every detail.
Which is fascinating when you step back and look at the scale of what we are talking about.
McDonald’s serves roughly 69 million customers every day around the world. Annual revenue exceeds 25 billion dollars. The global burger market itself is estimated well over 100 billion dollars annually. Entire supply chains, agricultural systems, marketing departments, packaging systems, social media strategies, and public corporations revolve around products like this.
And after all of that planning, testing, engineering, and advertising, public discussion ended up collectively debating whether a CEO looked natural taking a bite out of a hamburger.
That may actually be the most 2026 thing imaginable.
This photograph became part of that larger observation for me. The image strips away the advertising language and isolates the object itself. No restaurant interior, no fries, no smiling family, no campaign graphics. Just the burgers against black.
That approach has become part of what I’m doing with the Food From Bag To Background project. Taking fast food out of its marketing environment and presenting it almost like an artifact. The layers, the excess, the construction, the familiarity of it all. Things people see constantly but rarely stop and actually look at.
And whether people love it, criticize it, joke about it, or eat it in their car without thinking twice, the hamburger remains one of the defining products of modern American culture.
A stack of McDonald’s Apple Pies, photographed against a deep black background. The pies are casually arranged, some whole and some broken open to reveal their golden, syrupy apple filling. The signature lattice-style pastry tops are visibly crisp, with caramelized edges and a flaky texture. The contrast between the warm tones of the pies and the stark black backdrop draws attention to their form and texture, highlighting the mass-produced precision and nostalgic familiarity of this longtime menu staple. Part of my ongoing series documenting fast food items exactly as served, unpackaged, unstyled, and iconic.
Today is National Apple Pie Day.
There is the version everyone talks about. Homemade crust, family recipe, something cooling on a windowsill that probably hasn’t existed in real life for decades.
Then there is this.
McDonald’s Apple Pie.
First introduced in 1968, originally deep fried, engineered for consistency, speed, and scale. At its peak, McDonald’s was selling millions of these every day across thousands of locations worldwide. Not a regional dessert. Not seasonal. Always there, always the same.
In the early 1990s, they made the switch from fried to baked. A decision driven by changing tastes and public pressure around health. It didn’t end the product. It just changed it. The pie stayed, because the demand never left.
This is not the pie people romanticize. It’s the one people actually buy.
Hot, handheld, straight from a sleeve, eaten in a car, in a parking lot, or somewhere between one stop and the next. No plate, no fork, no ceremony.
If there’s a case for what defines American food culture, this belongs in the conversation.
Not because it’s refined, but because it works. It always worked.
Not a sunrise. Not a quiet kitchen. Not a cast-iron skillet passed down three generations. An Egg McMuffin.
In 1971, Herb Peterson, a McDonald’s franchisee in Santa Barbara, developed the Egg McMuffin as a portable adaptation of Eggs Benedict. Peterson was part of the early generation of McDonald’s operators who worked closely within the system but were willing to experiment. His breakfast concept would eventually redefine the company’s morning business and influence the broader fast-food industry.
He looked at Eggs Benedict and asked a practical question: what if it had to survive traffic? The result was less brunch and more engineering. A freshly cracked egg cooked in a metal ring for geometric precision. Canadian bacon cut to fit the circumference. American cheese calibrated to melt on schedule. An English muffin built to hold the structure together without collapsing under pressure.
By 1975 it went national. And just like that, breakfast stopped being something you sat down for. It became something you drove with.
The Egg McMuffin didn’t just succeed, it multiplied. The Sausage McMuffin replaced Canadian bacon with a pork patty, heavier, louder, unapologetic. The Sausage McMuffin with Egg combined both impulses into one edible escalation. Competitors followed with croissants, biscuits, wraps. Different shapes, same formula: egg, cheese, meat, mobility.
An entire industry recalibrated itself around the idea that mornings should be efficient.
Now, more than fifty years later, today, National Egg McMuffin Day marks the acknowledgment of a sandwich that changed how America eats before 10:30 a.m.
For the record, I really like the Sausage McMuffin with Egg. It is denser, saltier, less restrained. If you are going to commit to the system, you might as well lean into it.
So I stacked eight of them against black. No wrapper. No logo. No golden arches. Just product. Symmetrical. Predictable. Familiar. Industrial, yes. But also effective.
Because this isn’t just breakfast. It’s infrastructure.
Some birthdays sneak up on you. Today happens to be the birthday of the Burger King Whopper, introduced in 1957 when a Miami burger stand decided America deserved something larger and more structurally ambitious than anything on the menu board.
James McLamore, one of the Burger King founders, noticed customers flocking to oversized burgers at rival drive-ins. His solution was simple: go bigger. Much bigger. The original Whopper sold for 37 cents and immediately rewired American expectations for how much beef should fit inside a bun. From there, fast-food evolution took over. The Double Whopper showed up because of course it did. The Angry Whopper arrived for people who needed emotional intensity with their lunch. The Brisket Whopper made a brief appearance to remind us that barbecue can be a personality trait. And then the Impossible Whopper landed in 2019, launching the plant-based arms race and proving that even vegetarians sometimes want a burger the size of a paperback novel.
This is my stack of Double Whoppers, photographed earlier. I didn’t have time to run out and buy new ones, but double is my personal preference anyway.
There is much more of my fast food project “Food From Bag To Background” on my website at https://www.secondfocus.com/index/G0000wQ3fbeEezF0 You might find something to make you hungry, take a look. Thanks.
Today, June 6, marks National Fish & Chips Day—a celebration of a dish with deep roots on both sides of the Atlantic. Fish and chips, traditionally battered white fish served over fried potatoes, originated in 19th-century England as affordable street food. By the early 20th century, it had become a staple of British life.
In the United States, one man helped bring that tradition stateside: Haddon Salt, a third-generation British fish fryer who opened his first shop in California in 1965. His goal was to deliver a true British experience—using imported frying ranges, Icelandic cod, and a proper malt vinegar finish. Within a few years, the chain—renamed H. Salt Esq. Fish & Chips—grew rapidly, eventually acquired by Kentucky Fried Chicken. For a brief time in the early 1970s, it looked as though fish and chips might become as ubiquitous in America as burgers and fried chicken.
That never fully materialized. But a few independently owned H. Salt locations remain in California, still serving battered fish with crinkle-cut fries the old-fashioned way. That’s where this order came from—photographed exactly as it was handed over the counter. No rearranging, no garnish, no styling. Just the food on a black background, part of my ongoing From Bag to Background series.
Today is National Apple Pie Day, a fitting time to feature one of the most enduring fast food desserts in America—McDonald’s Apple Pie.
First introduced in 1968, McDonald’s Apple Pie was the chain’s first-ever dessert item. Originally deep-fried, it quickly became a fan favorite for its crackling crust and piping-hot filling. In the early 1990s, most U.S. locations switched to a baked version, part of a broader push toward “healthier” options. Despite the change, the pie’s iconic rectangular shape, sugary glaze, and soft apple filling kept it popular across decades.
This photograph, part of my *From Bag to Background* series, captures the pies just as they came—unwrapped and stacked on a deep black background. Some are broken open, revealing the caramelized apple interior, while others remain whole, showcasing the crisp, golden lattice crust. No styling. No props. Just fast food as it really is.
McDonald’s still sells millions of apple pies each year, a testament to their lasting appeal. And while flavors have rotated in and out—cherry, pumpkin, and even taro in some countries—the classic apple pie remains a constant.
May 10 is National Shrimp Day, a reminder that not all fast food comes in burger form. This is my photo of fried shrimp from Popeyes—unembellished, straight from the packaging, and photographed just as it was served.
While fried shrimp might not be the first thing people associate with fast food, Popeyes has carved out a place for itself in that space. Founded in 1972 in New Orleans by Al Copeland, Popeyes began with spicy fried chicken and a commitment to Louisiana-style flavors. But by the 1980s, seafood had become part of the menu, reflecting the culinary traditions of the Gulf Coast. Their fried shrimp—seasoned, battered, and fried with the same boldness as their chicken—has since become a customer favorite.
Popeyes now operates more than 4,300 locations worldwide, making it one of the largest fast food chains with a distinctly regional identity. Its menu has maintained a Southern character even as it expanded globally, and items like the fried shrimp have helped distinguish it from other chains.
Fast food seafood has long had a credibility problem, often treated as a token item on menus dominated by burgers, nuggets, or tacos. Popeyes helped shift that perception by offering shrimp that is consistently rated among the best in fast food—crispy, spicy, and more thoughtfully prepared than one might expect.
This image is part of my ongoing “From Bag to Background” project, where I photograph fast food as it comes—no stylists, no staging, no enhancements. Just the food itself, against a black background that forces a closer look at what’s often overlooked.
El Pollo Loco’s fire-grilled chicken — citrus-marinated and cooked over an open flame — has been the centerpiece of their menu since 1975, when the first location opened in Guasave, Sinaloa, Mexico. Brought to Los Angeles in 1980, it quickly became known for its simple, home-style approach: grilled chicken served with warm tortillas, pinto beans, and Spanish rice.
Despite its roots in traditional Mexican cooking, El Pollo Loco is officially classified as a fast food chain — not for a lack of quality, but for its counter service model, quick preparation, and drive-thru convenience. A reminder that fast food doesn’t always mean burgers and fries.
See more of my fast food photography series, “From Bag to Background”, on my website http://SecondFocus.com
March 2nd, National Egg McMuffin Day, McDonald’s iconic breakfast sandwich, has a rich history that revolutionized fast-food breakfast. It was conceived in 1971 by Herb Peterson, a McDonald’s franchisee in Santa Barbara, California. Inspired by Eggs Benedict, Peterson wanted to create a portable, handheld version that could be eaten on the go. He developed a sandwich featuring a freshly cracked egg cooked in a Teflon ring, Canadian bacon, and melted cheese, all served on a toasted English muffin.
After a successful test run, the Egg McMuffin made its national debut in 1975, becoming the foundation of McDonald’s breakfast menu. Its success led McDonald’s to expand its breakfast offerings, introducing items like **hotcakes, scrambled eggs, sausage, hash browns, and pastries. Among these additions was the Sausage McMuffin, which replaced the Canadian bacon with a seasoned pork sausage patty, offering a heartier, more indulgent alternative. The Sausage McMuffin with Egg soon followed, combining the best elements of both sandwiches.
The success of the Egg McMuffin didn’t just transform McDonald’s—it redefined fast-food breakfast entirely. Competing chains took notice, with Burger King launching the Croissan’wich in 1983, swapping the English muffin for a flaky croissant. Wendy’s, Jack in the Box, and Dunkin’ also expanded their morning menus, introducing similar breakfast sandwiches with eggs, cheese, and a choice of bacon, sausage, or ham. Even convenience stores and frozen food brands capitalized on the trend, offering ready-to-heat versions in grocery aisles.
2025 marks the sandwich’s 50th anniversary, celebrating half a century of mornings with McDonald’s first-ever breakfast item. The Egg McMuffin’s enduring popularity not only helped cement fast-food breakfast as a daily routine but also influenced an entire industry, proving that a simple idea—an egg on an English muffin—could change the way America starts its day.
Visit my website to see my Food Photography and other intriguing photo projects. Thanks! http://SecondFocus.com
National Hamburger Month and the Billion Dollar Authenticity War Behind the BIG ARCH
May is National Hamburger Month.
Which sounds simple enough until you stop and realize how much of modern American culture quietly revolves around hamburgers.
This year, the biggest burger story has probably been the introduction of the BIG ARCH from McDonald’s. Not just because it was another fast food launch, but because the entire thing unexpectedly turned into a strange cultural event involving corporate marketing, social media authenticity, public reaction, and billions of dollars sitting underneath all of it.
The burger itself was designed to be bigger, heavier, and more excessive than the traditional McDonald’s lineup. Two large beef patties, layered cheese, onions, lettuce, pickles, special sauce, and a large sesame and poppy seed bun. McDonald’s positioned it almost like a flagship object, the “most McDonald’s McDonald’s burger yet,” which is such a corporate sentence it almost becomes satire on its own.
Earlier this year, McDonald’s CEO Chris Kempczinski posted a promotional tasting video for the BIG ARCH. Instead of focusing on the burger, people focused on him. The small bite. The awkward delivery. The careful corporate language. Whether he looked comfortable eating it at all.
The clips spread everywhere. TikTok, YouTube reactions, business media, late-night commentary, memes, marketing discussions. Burger King even took shots at the situation publicly. Business writers started describing the entire thing as an “authenticity war” between fast food companies trying to appear relatable in an era where consumers instantly dissect every detail.
Which is fascinating when you step back and look at the scale of what we are talking about.
McDonald’s serves roughly 69 million customers every day around the world. Annual revenue exceeds 25 billion dollars. The global burger market itself is estimated well over 100 billion dollars annually. Entire supply chains, agricultural systems, marketing departments, packaging systems, social media strategies, and public corporations revolve around products like this.
And after all of that planning, testing, engineering, and advertising, public discussion ended up collectively debating whether a CEO looked natural taking a bite out of a hamburger.
That may actually be the most 2026 thing imaginable.
This photograph became part of that larger observation for me. The image strips away the advertising language and isolates the object itself. No restaurant interior, no fries, no smiling family, no campaign graphics. Just the burgers against black.
That approach has become part of what I’m doing with the Food From Bag To Background project. Taking fast food out of its marketing environment and presenting it almost like an artifact. The layers, the excess, the construction, the familiarity of it all. Things people see constantly but rarely stop and actually look at.
And whether people love it, criticize it, joke about it, or eat it in their car without thinking twice, the hamburger remains one of the defining products of modern American culture.
More at https://www.secondfocus.com
May 18, 2026 | Categories: Uncategorized | Tags: American culture, BIG ARCH burger, black background food photography, burger history, burger industry, Burger King, burger marketing, Burger Photography, burger wars, Chris Kempczinski, commercial food photography, cultural commentary, fast food culture, fast food history, fast food industry, fast food marketing, fast food photography, food blog, food culture, Food From Bag to Background, hamburger culture, McDonald’s, McDonald’s Big Arch, National Hamburger Month, restaurant industry, secondfocus, whopper | 1 Comment