Sonoma's Hidden Grease Trap: Happy Meals

This column is part of our week-long nutrition series, .

The divide between Sonoma and Boyes Hot Springs is marked by franchises, rather than train tracks. McDonalds marks the spot: goodbye ; hello American fast food.

(We're just going to ignore for purposes of this argument, which everyone knows is primarily misplaced in its West Napa home just down the road from .)

and McDonald’s (18988 Hwy 12, Sonoma) are about the only thing every American city has in common - including Sonoma - and I am bracing myself to eat this excuse for food. It's been about 20-years since I last indulged: for health reasons somewhat, but mostly for pretension. The food grosses me out. In all honesty, I'm a little bit scared. 

It is an unfortunate truth that economic status lends itself to this horrible food option (most menu items are nary over $5). But with all the taco trucks, why would anyone go to Taco Bell or McDonald’s?

Walking into my first stop feels desperate, it reeks of depression and grease. I don’t typically have anxiety, but I’m feeling anxious.

Most diners this Monday afternoon immediately stare at me: everyone's alone, and maybe it's my imagination, but everyone seems sad.  I’m not getting down on the people eating at McDonald’s, I’m getting down on McDonald’s.

Staring at the illuminated menu, I wish something has changed since my childhood - unfortunately, not the case.  All of the “classics” are advertised with the addition of a new healthy option, the "Asian Salad," offered for a limited time only. 

I go with the all-American classic, "The Happy Meal." The girl taking orders asked if I wanted a girl toy or boy toy - as if this was the most important option of the meal. I went with the boy toy. All of the focus is still on marketing ploys - way to go.

In seconds, out pops a bag, not a box like I remembered; I open it. The toy is amazing, an elaborate Batman wind-up car with two action figures. One even glows in the dark.

The food is surprisingly familiar, but the burger doesn’t taste or look like a burger and the fries are salt sticks.  And this pittance of food (child-sized compared to the majority of the menu options) still accounts just under 600 calories, over 40 percent of the standard daily caloric allotment for a kid under 12-years-old. (Don't even get me started on "Mighty Kids Meals," the older, larger brother of the "Happy Meal.")

But not much of this matters when you look at the prices: a family of four can eat Happy Meals for just about $10, and the kids get toys.

(Surprise! McDonald's has free WiFi and the fastest in Sonoma by far - typical.)

Staring into space at my booth,  my face feels weird, I didn’t eat that much but I feel horrible. I'm really confused so I head across the street to Taco Bell.

Everyone in Taco Bell is less than fifteen, how did they all get here?  Again the food resembled bleach, but I did pick up the flavor of a tomato in my taco.

After my tour de fast food, I'm suddenly filled with admiration for the - which my editor says is "a junk free zone," just across the street from this madness.

We should all lead junk free lives, but even in Sonoma, McDonald’s is more American than Levi’s  - this is embarrassing!