Let me get this clear from the start: I never expected Burger King “Fire-Grilled” Ribs to be anything but bad. The question for me, then, was: “just what level of suck are they?”
The short answer? Big, fat, crazy-town suck.
The details: prices are irrelevant, because you shouldn’t be buying these. But for the curious, according to the press release from BK, the three and six piece servings are $2.99 and $5.69 respectively. I think a value meal, which includes those lousy BK fries and about 30 quarts of soda, goes for like eight bucks. Interestingly, the press release completely fails to mention what animal these come from.

But that all clears up once you dump the little bag out: these ribs come from our oldĀ friend the pig. And apparently the smallest pigs ever. Or pig fingers. Which I didn’t even think they had.

My serving of three came in a container reminiscent of a doggy bag, which was appropriate since these things are fit more for canine consumption than human. The texture is exactly what you’d expect after looking at them: overcooked, dried out, ruined and dishonored pig.
As for the flavor, well do you remember those dog treats called Snausages? No, I’ve never tried one, but I’d lay even money that the flavor is better than these. It tastes like some sort of synthetic chemically generated flavor dominates, though it’s so bad I can’t even place it. Is it fake smoke? Fake charcoal? Fake monkey ass? I can’t tell.
One good thing about the BK ribs: they answer the question, “how bad does fast food have to be before you’d actually send it back?” (Not that I could – I took them home before opening the bag.)
The question of “how in the hell have they already sold 10 million of these disgusting chunks of hagged-out porcine flesh?” That one I have no answer to.

I guess your photography skills are too good because I think the ribs look pretty good…tiny, yes, but pretty good. I am sure, though, that the taste is as bad as you’ve said, and we’d never buy them. Not that we ever go to BK anyway. We appreciate your sacrificing your taste buds in the name of food-writing.
Barf dude.