After tasting Cap’n Crunch’s Chocolatey Crunch cereal, I decided I want to become the captain of a pirate ship so that I can hunt down Cap’n Crunch’s ship and send him and his crew to Davy Jones’ Locker using a barrage of cannonballs painted to look like Crunch Berries.

Despite it being made with real cocoa and being naturally and artificially flavored, Chocolatey Crunch’s flavor is extremely disappointing. I think they put the wrong suffix in this cereal’s name. Instead of it being called Chocolatey Crunch, it should’ve been called Chocolateish Crunch.

It’s such a let down that if I can’t become the captain of a pirate ship, I’ll try to become an admiral in whatever navy Horatio Magellan Crunch belongs to and demote the Cap’n to a ship’s bird poop remover.

The cereal itself looks like regular Cap’n Crunch that either spent a week sunbathing in Brazil or is into Japanese Ganguro fashion. It looks like it’s going to be chocolatey, but my tongue says it’s not. This tricking of my senses makes me want to put Cap’n Crunch in a cage match with Captain Hook who is armed with Captain Caveman’s club and Captain America’s shield, and has been drinking a lot of Captain Morgan.

On a scale from one to ten, with ten being skinny dipping in the Wonka factory’s chocolate river and one being far downwind from someone holding up a spoonful of hot cocoa mix, the chocolate level of Cap’n Crunch’s Chocolatey Crunch cereal would be a three. It’s a step above Kellogg’s Cocoa Krispies, but many steps below Cocoa Puffs and Cocoa Pebbles. There’s a sweetness to the cereal, but I wouldn’t consider it chocolatey. So it appears the real cocoa doesn’t do a good job of giving this cereal or the aftermilk a nice chocolate flavor. Dammit. I never thought I’d say these words: I wish this cereal was more artificially flavored.

Cap’n Crunch’s Chocolatey Crunch cereal is lighter and crisper than regular Cap’n Crunch, so eating it won’t shred your upper palate raw. But that’s the only real positive I can think of.

I’m just extremely disappointed with Cap’n Crunch’s Chocolatey Crunch cereal. The combination of Cap’n Crunch and chocolate had the potential to be one of the greatest chocolatey cereals ever, but it instead ended up being one of the least chocolatey cereals I’ve ever had. Cap’n Crunch should be forced to walk the plank because of this cereal.

(Nutrition Facts – 3/4 cup (cereal only) – 110 calories, 10 calories from fat, 1 gram of fat, 0.5 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 0 milligrams of cholesterol, 125 milligrams of sodium, 60 milligrams of potassium, 23 grams of carbohydrates, 1 gram of fiber, 11 grams of sugar, 11 grams of other carbohydrates, 1 gram of protein, and a load of vitamins and minerals.)

Other Cap’n Crunch’s Chocolatey Crunch reviews:
Grub Grade
Fatguy Food Blog
Life in Reviews

Item: Cap’n Crunch’s Chocolatey Crunch
Price: $3.00 (on sale)
Size: 14 ounces
Purchased at: Don Quijote
Rating: 3 out of 10
Pros: Doesn’t make your upper palate raw. A serving provides 100 percent of your daily value of folic acid. Sending Cap’n Crunch to Davy Jones’ Locker.
Cons: Real cocoa doesn’t make this cereal taste real good. Weak chocolate flavor. Had the potential to be a great cereal. Doesn’t turn the aftermilk chocolatey. Japanese women into Ganguro fashion

“W” can mean a lot of things. It is the 23rd letter in the alphabet. It could be the line of luxury hotels owned by Starwood properties. It’s the name of the glossy fashionista magazine that nobody reads but it looks great on your coffee table. It also reminds me of a campaign used by a certain former President. Currently, it means a hamburger that promises each heady mouthful will be packed with the flavor of pickles.

Meet Wendy’s new and arrogantly named hamburger The “W.” Yep. It. Is. THE. “W!”

I have to admit the name commands attention. The “W” conjures up ideas that this burger is the beginning and end of all fast food hamburgers. The ornate packaging would have me believe The “W” is not merely a double meat patty with cheese between two pieces of bread. No, it is the sandwich that will bring about world peace, help you find the mysterious God particle (that’s Higgs Boson to you brainiacs) and hold promises of giving your partner multiple orgasms.

Like the hucksters of yesteryear offering a tonic for all that ails you, most things that promise too much are bound to disappoint. Anybody who has played Skyrim or seen this season of The Walking Dead knows what I am talking about.

The burger is eloquently wrapped in white paper to suggest that what you are actually carrying is a fine marbled rib eye freshly cut from the butcher. Underlining the importance of this sandwich and adding to the pomp, it is tucked in a folder shouting all kinds of things like “fresh!” and “quality!!”

That, however, is where the façade ends and what you have is the fast food equivalent of a Pandora’s Box. Comparable to the Big Mac, The “W” has two patties, special sauce, tomato, pickles, red onion and two slices of cheese. And trust me, the sauce is very special which I will get to in a minute.

The promotional pictures for The “W” appeared nothing like the actual burger. My sandwich consisted of two limp square beef patties bordering on a chic gray color scheme. There’s the obligatory cheese topped on each slate. A wilted leaf of iceberg, a depressing slice of tomato, some pickles and slivers of red onion complimented the disaster. Then the sauce was slathered sloppily on the bun, which was toasted but not buttery as Wendy’s promised. I could be wrong since freckle face was so heavy handed with the sauce.

Now about that sauce…the website states it’s the savory signature sauce with hints of tomato, pickle and red pepper. To hint is to suggest slightly, but for Wendy’s it means to grab you by the head, slam your face into the wet spot on the carpet, nose buried deep and then scream in your ear “BAD DOGGIE! BAD BAD BAD DOGGIEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!”

If the sauce is signature, it is not a graceful Hancock. It is a scrawled letter X signed by an incompetent psychopath who flings their own poop at the television when the theme song to “The Price is Right” comes on. The sauce is so briny and strong with pickles, it tastes like thousand island dressing amped up with mega-ultra-relish. It is also very vinegary which intensifies the brine and is off-putting. Honestly, drinking a douche would rival the tang of the sauce.

This did not help the cadaver-like meat or the drippy cheese or the lettuce which seemed like an afterthought. The toasted buns were soggy. It was like a victim of a circle jerk but the loser did not eat the bread. The only positive note was the red onion which added a nice sweet and spicy bite. However, you would be wise just to buy a red onion and eat it like an apple.

I am surprised by this evil offspring from hell because I normally like Wendy’s. I have fond memories of The Baconator. The website said “it is doubly amazing” and they list it as a premium hamburger. This sandwich is no more amazing in the single sense than it is twice. Forgetting to flush the toilet after a dinner of tripe sautéed in black bean sauce and reconstituted dried salted fish is more amazing.

Damn, emptying the contents of my used condom on to a hamburger would be more amazing! Wow, I’m really angry about this. When I eat at a fast food place, I’m not expecting meat at Luger levels but I’m also not expecting inmate cafeteria dreck.

I agree there are so many tasteless “potty jokes” in my review. Yes. But they taste much better than this burger. “Big flavor doesn’t have to mean big bucks”, touts the website. The flavor is indeed very big, but Wendy’s forgot to make the flavor good.

(Nutrition Facts – 580 calories, 290 calories from fat, 33 grams of fat, 14 grams of saturated fats, 105 milligrams of cholesterol, 1,480 milligrams of sodium, 40 grams of carbohydrates, 3 grams of fiber, 9 grams of sugars, and 32 grams of protein.)

Other Wendy’s The “W” reviews:
Grub Grade
Grub Gripe (video)
Foodette Reviews

Item: Wendy’s The “W”
Price: $2.99 (sandwich only)
Purchased at: Wendy’s
Rating: 3 out of 10
Pros: You can pick up a Frosty or a Baconator while there. The red onions add a good kick. Images of people flinging poop in top hats make me laugh. Toasted buns are a good idea. Freckles.
Cons: The beef, the cheese, the pickle, the tomato. The sauce is too briny. Saying things that are “double amazing” when you cannot even get to the “singular” amazing. Loser eats the bread. Speaking of bread, the nice texture of toasted buns are nullified when it becomes soggy due to too much sauce. Skyrim, like seriously what am I supposed to do next?

Orville Redenbacher’s Flavor Singles gourmet popcorn introduces three new flavors to the line-up: Sea Salt & Vinegar, White Cheddar, and Extra Cheese. The hook is not only that they are sold separately in single packages, but also the fact that they come with little flavor packets, which you’re meant to sprinkle over your popcorn.

Some things aren’t meant to be experimented with. I get it — snack foods are the interminable guinea pig. There will never be a time when a snack food manufacturer won’t have the desire to tweak their signature item with a new flavor or texture or shape. Their goal is to create a need where there was never one before; to lure the itinerant snacker over to their side of the grocery aisle and convince him or her to lay down their hard-earned cash for their latest Frankenstein-like creation. But damn it, Orville, you sort of beefed with this one.

Let me explain. The only flavor I actually liked was Extra Cheese. Despite the neon orange glow of the cheese powder, the Extra Cheese popcorn possessed a rather robust cheese flavor, which, when applied to a bag full of freshly-popped, already-cheesy popcorn, made things quite delicious… and doubly cheesy. But when it came time to sample the other two, I was terribly disappointed.

To start things off, the White Cheddar popcorn was really just regular white popcorn with no seasoning. All of the white cheddar flavor came from the packet of seasoning, but when I sprinkled it on, it tasted… well… a little mature. That is, the White Cheddar popcorn was a tad bitter. Now, I know that white cheddar itself has a more distinguished cheese flavor than regular cheddar, but on microwave popcorn, I don’t think it’s the best combination.

B-b-b-but wait, it gets worse! Sea Salt & Vinegar popcorn must be the popcorn they serve in Hell’s movie theater that only screens From Justin to Kelly on a loop. For $50 a pop. And it’s mandatory. Once again, the popcorn is unflavored, white popcorn to which you must add seasoning. I evenly distributed the flavor packet’s contents on my popcorn and was startled to taste nothing but vinegar. I couldn’t taste a bit of the sea salt. This was the ultimate in disgusting. I think the problem may be the popcorn itself. Sea salt and vinegar potato chips and French fries with sea salt and vinegar are sometimes an acquired taste (one which I have… ahem… acquired), but there is something about the base flavor of the fried potatoes themselves that I think balances the tanginess of the vinegar with the bite of the salt. That does not exist here with this popcorn. It is like eating straight-up vinegar on Styrofoam. Now, some of you may like that kind of flavor experience, but I will tell you right now, I am not a fan.

I would probably go back for the Extra Cheese flavor again, since it fulfills my expectations of what a cheesy snack food should look and taste like. However the other two flavor experiments, White Cheddar and Sea Salt & Vinegar were not as satisfactory, with one of them being an abject failure in the realm of culinary innovation. I could only manage a couple bites of each, and boy, those were some rough bites. Looks like my friends will be receiving tins of leftover popcorn this Christmas! It will be mandatory.

(Nutrition Facts – serving size varies – 2 Tbsp (about 5 cups – 6.5 cups popped) – Sea Salt & Vinegar – 150 calories, 7 grams of fat, 3.5 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 1 gram of polyunsaturated fat, 2.5 grams of monounsaturated fat, 0 milligrams of cholesterol, 280 milligrams of sodium, 21 grams of carbohydrates, 1 gram of sugar, 3 grams of fiber, and 2 grams of protein. White Cheddar – 140 calories, 8 grams of fat, 3.5 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 1 gram of polyunsaturated fat, 3 grams of monounsaturated fat, 0 milligrams of cholesterol, 350 milligrams of sodium, 18 grams of carbohydrates, 1 gram of sugar, 3 grams of fiber, and 3 grams of protein. Extra Cheese – 150 calories, 8 grams of fat, 4 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 1 gram of polyunsaturated fat, 3 grams of monounsaturated fat, 0 milligrams of cholesterol, 330 milligrams of sodium, 19 grams of carbohydrates, 1 gram of sugar, 3 grams of fiber, and 3 grams of protein.)

Other Orville Redenbacher’s Flavor Singles reviews:
Junk Food Guy (Salt & Vinegar)

Item: Orville Redenbacher’s Flavor Singles (Sea Salt & Vinegar, White Cheddar, and Extra Cheese)

Price: $1.49
Size: 3.24 ounces
Purchased at: Albertson’s
Rating: 1 out of 10 (Sea Salt & Vinegar)
Rating: 3 out of 10 (White Cheddar)
Rating: 7 out of 10 (Extra Cheese)
Pros: Two words: Extra Cheese. Doubly cheesy snack foods. Mandatory gift-receiving. Apparently there’s money circulating in Hell, so at least you can save up for something nice down there.
Cons: Three words: Sea Salt & Vinegar. White Cheddar flavor is a tad bitter. The popcorn itself in the White Cheddar and Sea Salt & Vinegar packages is unflavored. Paying money in Hell to watch an American Idol reject sing and dance.

As I’ve stated before, there are certain flavors that remind us of the seasons. You can’t deny eating red potatoes roasted with sea salt and rosemary doesn’t remind you of the winter. It’s rustic and familiar. Think about the taste of fresh lemonade. Its tart body, quenching and refreshing, brings about memories of hot summer days basked in the scent of fresh cut grass.

Food and memories have a symbiotic relationship. Most of us hold fond recollections of these moments. I am, however, left with one question. Why does McDonald’s hate the fall so much? Why?

If the clown had his way, memories of the autumn would include the flavor of overly sweet and creamy burnt vanilla. I think Ronald was abused as a child. How else to explain his coiffure that just asks for attention? You see, he has returned the favor by antagonizing us with their new Sweet Autumn Milk Shake.

The new M83 album is so good and I would rather talk about that but my job is to tell you my thoughts on this miserable experience. Also, does anyone miss the way McDonald’s shakes were served in their regular cups? I do. I am not a fan of their “McCafe” branding. The dollop of spray-can whip cream with a maraschino cherry plopped on top. I understand it’s supposed to emulate the countertop diner milkshake but there was something charming about slurping a strawberry milkshake in the ordinary cup.

So this limited edition flavor was found at one of the kindest McDonald’s I have come across. My wife has celiac (allergic to glutens) and cannot have the biscuit or hotcakes, and they always offer her an extra sausage patty or hash brown. If she was nice, she would let me eat her biscuit but instead she is a jerk. I was surprised to find the shake in my city but this one being next to a renowned media entertainment college, it makes sense.

The college demographic is more likely to try new things and I believe this particular establishment is frequented by many afflicted with the munchies. It’s a very smart location to test out some new stuff. (Note to those that go here and are reading this, stop consenting to searches by the cops, you do no favors to your criminal defense case in allowing it.)

Anthony Gonzalez really found a good balance of ambient and 80’s homage on M83’s new release…alright, alright…back to the milkshake. This will be the last “nice” thing I can say in this article: This McDonald’s is very sweet to their customers. However, this pales in comparison to how sweet this crappy shake is.

The color of the shake is orange, a bit like their Arctic Orange Milkshake. I thought it would be more of a reddish orange to mirror the autumn leaves but it was a scary bright orange. I saw this as an omen but I promised to consume things for you guys no matter how wary I am.

I understand that it’s called the Sweet Autumn Milkshake but I had no clue this was actually a warning. It was so sugary, my teeth hurt. The shakes come in small, medium or large but you would be advised to drink just the small one unless you want to slip into a type 2 diabetic coma. If you’re like me, you may not drink any more than five slurps.

I assumed the vague “autumn” flavor would be pumpkin pie-ish and I was right but you need to work at it. Picture a pumpkin pie that was baked too high and too long, then topped with cheap vanilla ice cream and maimed further with sugar cubes smashed into its flesh. God, this shake made me want to go to the nearest dog park and toss the concoction at a teacup yorkie, kick the owner in the ghoulies and then defecate at a nearby tree in shame. This was awful.

The taste of vanilla was immediate and as subtle as a chainsaw, a very sweet heavy fake tasting vanilla invaded my tongue. Where was the fresh autumn taste I was promised by the website? I even mixed the shake myself to raise the intensity. I did not taste anything but vanilla and the whipped cream was getting in the way.

Then like a cheap shot or perhaps a “Dear John” e-mail one gets after coming home after work. It was an unwelcome surprise and then the constant nature of suckness which the rapidly expanding universe couldn’t even contain revealed itself. There it was, a faint pumpkin pie flavor that gave way to an intrusive burnt gingerbread aftertaste. The charred smokiness ran everywhere and it was one epic fail of trying to capture the flavor of crust. Another sip only intensified this acrid taste. A third made me want to pull out my teeth Oldboy style.

I am tired of the pumpkin pie flavor and it seems like we are inundated with many variations of a product that scream with it. However McDonald’s really did distinguish themselves by adding that unique burnt flavor that I think no one has been craving. Congratulations Ronald, we feel your pain.

Picture a dinner with your girlfriend’s parents, and just as you’re about to suggest a Chardonnay…your uninvited friend who’s always hammered is at the bar and notices you. He invites himself to the table, stumbling, hi-fiving everyone, telling an embarrassing anecdote or two then drunkenly pulls out his long john silver and pees everywhere including on your face. Yeah, that’s what happened to my taste buds. It went from boredom to disgust.

I applaud McDonald’s trying to give us more than the flavor of custardy pumpkin pie by injecting a touch of baked crust but this was a disaster. You would do much better buying a vanilla milk shake and then adding some pumpkin pie spice. It doesn’t sound appealing but it has to better than this thankfully “limited edition in limited areas” offer.

(Nutrition Facts – 12 ounce shake — 540 calories, 17 grams of fat, 10 grams of saturated fat, 50 mg of cholesterol, 170 milligrams of sodium, 87 grams of carbohydrates, 73 grams of sugar, 0 grams of fiber, and 11 grams of protein.)

Item: McDonald’s Sweet Autumn Shake
Price: $1.79
Size: Small/12 ounces
Purchased at: McDonald’s (home of that creep Grimace)
Rating: 3 out of 10
Pros: It’s available only for a limited time. It is sweet as the shake’s name advises. M83’s song “Reunion” is so dreamy, shoegazing is still alive! The whip cream on top is yummy. That it is available in limited areas. Oldboy is an awesome film.
Cons: It’s available at all. It is really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really sweet and then burnt. Golden showers and consenting to a search, in that order. Getting dumped by e-mail. Did I mention that the shake is really sweet? And then a burnt flavor?

Machismo + 90’s Xtreme = the present day douchebag.

I have concluded that the above is the correct formula. Or as a recipe it would read, one part exaggerated masculinity and one equal part X-Games generation, a gallon of penis envy, and a pinch of misdirected anger will give you the douchebag.

Everyone remembers the late 90’s where every…fucking…thing was so damned EXTREME! (Extreeeeme!!!) And you know it was extra extreme when they got rid of the “e” and it was just X-treme or some stupid variation. Images of snowboarders, tats, overdone spiked hairdo’s with goatees grasping some neon green drink, you know XXXXXTREME MUTHAfuckas!!! Red Bull’s and Frïs Vodka anyone?

Once the 90’s gave way to the new millennium, the very common denominator of the public latched on to all the worst things about the EXTREME (Extreeeeme!!!) crowd. After the Y2K scare, Buckle clothing stores were popping up all over the malls like a gonorrhea infection. Davidoff’s Cool Water cologne stepped aside for Axe Tiger Cock or something like that. Walking billboards for midlife crises were wearing Affliction shirts with Ed Hardy jeans and populating posh bars as they imbibed Jager-bombs (note: Sake bombs fall in this category too and if you order a sake bomb in a sushi restaurant, I guarantee your sashimi has been deservedly seasoned with ass-crack sweat).

This is the mutated ugly side of men who were not smart enough to understand metrosexual (which is a term I hate as well). And yes, food wasn’t immune to this movement either. You aren’t a real man unless you can eat those fucking ghost-chili hot wings or scotch bonnet poppers filled with Szechuan whatever the hells. Be a man and eat it!

Or at least that’s what the sticky laminated stained menu tells me and douchebags gotta eat too. As much as I love hot food, I know it’s entering the realm of overly macho men who either eat it hot or eat it big (and sometimes both). Fuck me.

Our love of spicy food is demonstrated in the growing popularity of Thai and Indian cuisines. The general public is beginning to accept flavors more exotic than a Cajun spiced chicken finger. In fact, sriracha is now offered at a lot of restaurants. I assure you it won’t be long before we slather some kimchi on hot dogs, I have and it’s good.

Like anything that becomes popular, they are dumbed down for a dumb public. So as much as I admire those Trekkie-like hot sauce collectors and the adventurous eater tucking into a Ethiopian goat stew scorching with berbere, I was a little pessimistic when I saw the Fiery Fusion flavors for Doritos and Cheetos. I love hot food and normally when it is in snack form, it’s tepid.

The name was a bit douchebaggy too, Fiery Fusion. It sounds like it’s some kind of new scent. When I hear “fusion” in regards to food, I picture bad Asian cuisine mixed with western elements. Ahi-tuna salad comes to mind. Like flies, these places are inhabited by shaved headed “bro’s” in an un-tucked shiny shirt using a pair of chopsticks in one hand and bumping fists with other “bro’s” Tapout-style. Good God.

Fusion, however, for Frito-Lay means “Sizzlin’ Cayenne & Cheese.” Both respective packages have “Fiery Fusion” written in red orange to clue you in that it is “sizzlin’” which may be different from sizzling.

Frito Lay has played around with spicy offerings before in regards to both brands. The wasabi dusted Mr. Dragon’s Fire Chips Doritos were a bit flaccid in the heat department but tasty. The progressively hot “Degree Burn” series released by Doritos are another good example. Not one to be eclipsed, Cheetos brought out their FLAMIN’ HOT and Cheddar Jalapeño variations. Without a fist bump to spare, I gave in and bought both at the gas station bro.

Doritos Fiery Fusion

Upon opening, an immediate rich smell of peppers emanated from the bag and this was a good sign. The chips had the normal orange look of Doritos without a fleck of red powder. At first crunch, it tastes like a nacho chip crossed with a barbecue potato chip if you can imagine that. Then the comforting vinegar tang hits your senses. The chips had a faint earthy sweetness, almost like brown sugar. While it tasted good, I was ready to chalk up my $1.29 as a casualty because I didn’t sense any heat.

Like sleight of hand, I never saw it coming or in this case…taste. A slow burn started to build on my tongue and then it crept to the back of my throat before I even knew it. This was really good. The more I ate, the hotter my mouth became. Surprisingly, the heat also never competed with the flavor unlike so many other spicy chips. I prefer the gradual fire that builds into a storm and would say the effect is similar here.

These chips are the hottest Doritos I’ve eaten. They taste better and are spicier than the Doritos Flamas that has been selling as of late. And unlike the Flamas, I left no red handprints all over my walls like it was the freaking ending of Blair Witch.

Let me caution you, do not expect a capsaicin-fueled roller coaster or your tongue to IGNITE (as the bag claims it will). Even though these are the spiciest Doritos I’ve had, it is far from the spiciest food I’ve ever eaten. I would place the Doritos way above the level of Taco Bell’s Fire sauce but below Tabasco. Still, it’s a welcome punch from a bag of corn tortilla chips. My only complaint is wishing Doritos would turn up the heat a bit more, but that’s negligible.

Despite my feelings, these Doritos really can back up their claim that these are hot. The burn will linger around for a minute and then it’s gone, like a sip of good angry bourbon. I would buy these again. It satiated my hunger for something spicy and who doesn’t love a Dorito chip now and then? Or a bourbon? Fistbump yo!

Cheetos Fiery Fusion

I waited almost a day to open these, partly because I didn’t want to eat them immediately after the Doritos and not get a clean taste. …Mostly because I spent the rest of the day on a scotch fueled bender celebrating my friend’s birthday. (Extreeeeeme!!!)

So here I am staring at Chester Cheetah’s mug at five in the morning. That creepy ass show about missing people in America is on with a theme song that is as scary as the one from Unsolved Mysteries.

I stared at the bag over the chorus chanting “Missing. These people are missing” (see? I told you it was creepy). I went ahead and opened the bag in a clumsy manner. The smell of corn and fake cheese powder made its presence. I took one out and noticed there were patches of red splotches as if the Cheetos had a rash.

Eating one, it tasted very bland. What the hell? These were really boring. Taking a swig from a can of Sprite that has been lying on the counter since the day before, I went back to bed. I needed to sleep off my impending hangover. Additionally, my mouth felt like I went down on a bag of mulch.

I awoke to the sound of that CBS Sunday Morning opening. Feeling better, I decided to give those Cheetos a second try. Lulled from the trumpet of Wynton Marsalis, I walked into the kitchen and grabbed the bag. After eating a few, I confirmed it for myself.

These were so boring and dry. All I could taste was the corny corn puffs and fake-o cheese powder. The heat barely registered but like the Doritos, it would come up from the backside. That is the only similarity between the two.

I would compare the heat to that of a paper cup filled with coffee and too much non-diary creamer that has been sitting in a conference room for a day because the cleaning staff was too lazy to toss it away and now there is a ring on the table, so please clean it. I don’t care if that is a run on sentence, but it’s the best way I can describe the lack of any burn.

Sizzlin’ Cayenne & Cheese hmm? The cheese part is right but these were terrible if you could not tell. I couldn’t taste the cayenne and eating them felt like a mouthful of Styrofoam peanuts. I don’t know if it needed more salt or more cheese. More heat for sure.

Compared to the Doritos, these Cheetos are the lazy brother who sits around all day smoking pot, perpetually borrows money to buy more vinyls, and at the end of the day has accomplished nothing but a big fart. I know I’m being harsh, but these just plain sucked. I would rather wear a stupid Affliction t-shirt than eat another.

Even though it cost me $1.29, I want my money back. I feel ripped off and now I know why Chester is dancing on the bag. I want to knock his stupid sunglasses off. The bag is pushing “0 grams of trans fat” instead of how these things are so hot it will melt your eyeballs into a soup that you can drink later. This should have been a clue.

I’m not sure what makes me angrier, the fact that they are so bland or that the heat is neutered. I want my $1.29 back assholes! And in pennies so I can put them in a sock and flail it into Chester’s face.

(Nutrition Facts – Doritos Fiery Fusion – 1 ounce/12 chips – 140 calories, 70 calories from fat, 8 grams of fat, 1 gram of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 0 milligrams of cholesterol, 160 milligrams of sodium, 16 grams of carbohydrates, 1 gram of dietary fiber, 0 grams of sugars, and 2 grams of protein. Cheetos Fiery Fusion – 1 ounce/21 bland pieces – 150 calories, 10 calories from fat, 1.5 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 0 milligrams of cholesterol, 190 milligrams of sodium, 14 grams of carbohydrates, less than 1 gram of dietary fiber, less than 1 gram of sugar, and 2 grams of protein.)

Other Doritos Fiery Fusion and Cheetos Fiery Fusion review:
Food Junk
That Bootleg Guy
Hot Chicks Eatin’ Spicy Chips

Items: Doritos Fiery Fusion and Cheetos Fiery Fusion
Prices: $1.29 each (A bargain for the Doritos, an obscene rip off for the Cheetos.)
Size: 3 ounces (Doritos Fiery Fusion)
Size: 3.25 ounces (Cheetos Fiery Fusion)
Purchased at: 7-Eleven (where the bottled water is spicier than these friggin’ Cheetos)
Rating: 9 out of 10 (Doritos Fiery Fusion)
Rating: 3 out of 10 (Cheetos Fiery Fusion)
Pros: In a saturated market of spicy chips, Doritos Fiery Fusion stand out. The Doritos are hot and the flavor alone was delicious, I would eat it even if they weren’t spicy. The heat lingers on both snacks and stays in the back of your throat comfortably. The Cheetos are not as bad as getting scrotum cancer. The Cheetos are also not as bad as a robot led apocalypse.
Cons: The Doritos could be a tad hotter. Cheetos are devoid of taste or heat. Fist bumps and sake bombs. The Cheetos have an unpleasant feel in your mouth. Theme song to Unsolved Mysteries. Chester and his sunglasses annoy me. Cunnilingus on mulch.

Since starting at The Impulsive Buy, I’ve reviewed three new Dunkin’ Donuts products, none of which I was, um, all that crazy about. I fully intend, however, to continue reviewing their products because DD keeps introducing distinctive new items that pique my interest. (I suppose it also doesn’t hurt that there’s a Dunkin’ Donuts right across the street from my apartment and I’m too lazy to walk any farther to pick up other review items.) Their latest offering is the new Chicken Salad Sandwich.

After doing a limited rollout in the greater New York area a few months back, Dunkin’ Donuts has recently undertaken a broader release of the Chicken Salad Sandwich. I’m guessing the chicken salad is being marketed alongside the tuna salad to re-confuse Jessica Simpson about what exactly Chicken of the Sea is; similarly, I am making a Jessica Simpson joke to confuse any people who don’t remember their reality TV news from 2003.

I ordered my Chicken Salad Sandwich on a croissant and without cheese, just as it’s depicted in all the ads. At first glance, it looked like I probably could’ve asked for a Mayonnaise Sandwich with Some Chicken or Whatever Miscellaneous Meat You Have Back There, and I would’ve gotten more or less the same thing. Even good chicken salads aren’t particularly pleasing aesthetically, so I couldn’t judge the sandwich strictly on appearance.

Unfortunately, the experience of actually eating the chicken salad wasn’t any better. The chunks of chicken were relatively sizable and plentiful, but they tasted very bland and were completely overpowered by the presence of the mayonnaise. The celery pieces added some much needed crunch to the texture of the chicken salad, yet there weren’t enough pieces to prevent the overall sandwich from being too mushy. The croissant was the same type Dunkin’ Donuts uses for their regular breakfast sandwiches, but this sandwich is served cold so my croissant was un-toasted and lacking in its customary flakiness.

As for the mayonnaise… well, the nicest thing I can say is that at least the mayo doesn’t suffer from both conditions of the famous Woody Allen quote: “Boy the food at this place is really terrible.” “Yeah, I know, and such small portions!” The mayo is definitely odd-tasting, and there’s plenty of it. At first it tasted jarringly sweet, and although each bite got me a bit more acclimated to the mayo’s sweetness, the blandness of the chicken and celery and the absence of any more ingredients meant the chicken salad just didn’t have any other flavors worth detecting. Additionally, more of the excess mayonnaise got squeezed out the sides of the sandwich with each bite, so the whole eating process was much messier than it really had to be.

The Chicken Salad Sandwich was altogether pretty bad. Once again, I would recommend you skip Dunkin’ Donuts’ latest offering. That being said, I appreciate their efforts in steadily introducing new products that are true departures from their regular menu and not just a re-packaging and re-naming of existing ingredients and items. (I’m looking at you, Taco Bell. I hope you know I ate that Beefy Melt Burrito because I was drunk and it was 99 cents, not because I thought you had something new and worth trying.) So Dunkin’ Donuts, stay the course and just keep coming out with different products, and I will keep trying them until that day comes when I can write a positive review on a new item I actually enjoy. (Or until I move into a new apartment, whichever comes first.)

(Nutrition Facts – 1 sandwich on croissant – 560 calories, 340 calories from fat, 37 grams of fat, 10 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 45 milligrams of cholesterol, 890 milligrams of cholesterol, 38 grams of carbohydrates, 2 grams of fiber, 6 grams of sugar, 17 grams of protein, 2% vitamin A, 2% vitamin C, 4% calcium, and 15% iron.)

Other Dunkin’ Donuts Chicken Salad Sandwich reviews:
Foodette Reviews

Item: Dunkin’ Donuts Chicken Salad Sandwich
Price: $2.99
Size: 1 sandwich
Purchased at: Dunkin’ Donuts
Rating: 3 out of 10
Pros: Chicken was sizable and plentiful. Celery added good crunch. Dunkin’ Donuts’ willingness to introduce actual new products. Having a Dunkin’ Donuts right across the street from my apartment. Annie Hall. Drunk-eating Taco Bell.
Cons: Chicken was bland. Not enough celery. Too much mayonnaise. Jarringly sweet mayonnaise. Croissant wasn’t toasted. Sandwich got messy. Drunk-eating Taco Bell.