You can see why it’s called junk

You can tell how often I have a burger. There was a story about the dire perils of junk food in the paper accompanied by a picture of a round object of indeterminate size and no context. It was shades of beige with what looked like white ants scattered upon it.
    I had to read the caption to find out that it was a burger, having decided that it looked like a cake of some sort.