The Impulsive Buy » 4 Rating

REVIEW: Quaker Chocolate Chip Instant Oatmeal

Marvo — Thu, 01 Dec 2011 00:30:59 +0000

Oatmeal is healthy and wholesome.

Well, at least that’s what Wilfred Brimley and the guy who yells at fat people on NBC tell me. But just like wholesome Amish kids during rumspringa, oatmeal can get wild, crazy, and do unhealthy things as well.

For example, instead of using skim milk or water to make my oatmeal, I use melted ice cream and then top that with crushed Heath candy bar pieces, Hershey chocolate syrup. a small bag of M&M’s, and half a container of Cool Whip.

That sounds totally diabeteeriffic!

I can corrupt oatmeal to the point where you would have to start calling it ho-meal. But it appears Quaker has done the corrupting for me with their new chocolate chip instant oatmeal.

Okay, they haven’t really done any corrupting because there aren’t many semisweet chocolate chips in each instant oatmeal packet.

If you’d like to teach your child how to count using the chocolate chips in each packet, you’re going to have to open a number of packets to equal the level of learning your child will get from watching an episode of Sesame Street, because each one contains four or five chocolate chips. And they’re not big chocolate chips. They make the oats in each packet look bigger than they really are.

I made a bowl of Quaker Chocolate Chip Instant Oatmeal using vanilla soy milk and another using filtered water. Using filtered water is healthier, but using vanilla soy milk makes it taste better. But if you read on, that’s not saying much.

The chocolate chips take awhile to melt, and after they do, the oatmeal looks chocolatey. As you can see above, the liquid looks like the milk at the bottom of the bowl after eating Cocoa Puffs, but that liquid is a liar.

A dirty stinkin’ liar!

The chocolate flavor is almost non-existent. It has less flavor than the other Quaker flavored instant oatmeal varieties I’ve had. I wish Quaker had put a little hot cocoa powder in their Chocolate Chip Instant Oatmeal to make things tolerable. So it looks like, in order to get through the rest of the box, I’m going to have to make this oatmeal tolerable on my own with some cocoa power, semisweet chocolate chips, M&M’s, crushed Oreo cookies, Hershey’s chocolate syrup, chocolate sprinkles, crushed Butterfinger candy pieces, Hershey’s Kisses, and melted Häagen-Dazs chocolate ice cream.

(Nutrition Facts – 1 packet – 130 calories, 20 calories from fat, 2 grams of fat, 0.5 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 0.5 grams of polyunsaturated fat, 1 gram of monounsaturated fat, 0 milligrams of cholesterol, 150 milligrams of sodium, 26 grams of carbohydrates, 2 grams of fiber, 8 grams of sugar, 16 grams of other carbohydrates, and 3 grams of protein.)

Item: Quaker Chocolate Chip Instant Oatmeal
Price: $3.29
Size: 10 packets/1.23 ounces each
Purchased at: Target
Rating: 4 out of 10
Pros: Quick to make. Good source of whole grains. Rumspringa. Sesame Street. Decent source of fiber. Low in fat.
Cons: Really faint chocolate flavor. Really small chocolate chips. Not many chocolate chips in each packet. The liquid in the oatmeal is a liar, a dirty stinkin’ liar! Using the chocolate chips to teach your child to count won’t get him or her very far unless you open several packets.

REVIEW: Ritz Crackerfuls Big Stuff Colossal Cheddar

Kelley — Mon, 28 Nov 2011 10:00:11 +0000

I can’t think of sandwich crackers without thinking of grade school day care. Unnaturally bright neon orange crackers with some sort of peanut-related substance smeared in between. I’m sure they don’t serve those anymore, since some kid named Billy who eats his boogers has a peanut allergy so severe that just being in the same room with something that barely qualifies as peanut butter sends him into anaphylactic shock. Kids are such sissies these days.

I’m also pretty sure I haven’t had sandwich crackers since those grade school days. I think time has shown that I’ll eat some pretty juvenile shit – I was about to write that I’d eat Dunkaroos if they still existed, but Google just told me they do, so now I’m conflicted – but there’s something about sandwich crackers that makes me wince. Perhaps there’s a deep-seated feeling of abandonment caused by having to go to day care after school. More likely it’s that my friends and I used to scrape all the peanut butter out of the sandwiches and use it like a greasy substitute for Play-Doh. I once made the perfect sculpture of a nose. It was the pinnacle of my artistic career.

These Ritz Crackerfuls Big Stuff Colossal Cheddar aren’t sandwich crackers, however. These are filled crackers. At least, according to Ritz, that’s what they are. But I can see through Ritz’s facade. Look at that packaging. The cracker looks like it’s sitting on a pristine marble countertop. The “k” in “Crackerfuls” is sprouting a stalk of wheat from its head, presumably indicating that it is natural or healthy. And yet, for the menfolk, it is made clear that there is 75% more filling, so nobody will make fun of you for eating wimpy, under-filled sandwich crackers. I mean, filled crackers. No, I mean sandwich crackers.

In size, they certainly aren’t your kids’ crackers, coming in at 4.5 inches long by 2 inches wide, with a generous amount of filling. I’d say almost too generous, but the ratio of cheese-to-cracker is just about right, although the cheese does squish out the sides when you bite down, making for a less than tidy snack.

The crackers have a pleasant buttery taste, just like regular Ritz, but they aren’t flaky and are much more sturdy, helping to compensate for the heft of the filling. The cheese, when tasted by itself, has a bit of a grainy feel to it, but when eaten as a sandwich, the cracker seems to cover that up. The cheese has the consistency of a soft cheese spread (hence the squishing out the sides).

It also tastes a lot like a processed cheese spread, which is my biggest complaint. Ritz seems to be marketing these crackers to a more adult market, and while the cracker is quite tasty, the cheese filling tastes too artificial for most adult palates. I still eat cheese-in-a-can, but I’m not exactly “normal”. I also think the cheese is too soft; most adults don’t want cheese spread squishing out everywhere, and the consistency adds to the feeling that you’re definitely not ingesting actual cheese.

Ritz Crackerfuls Big Stuff Colossal Cheddar filled crackers seem caught between two demographics. Too large for a child’s snack and lacking the flashy packaging that would make a kid scream at their parent until it wound up in the shopping cart, and yet too unrefined and artificial-tasting to appeal to most adults, who would probably take the individually-wrapped sandwiches to work and then find themselves embarrassed to be wiping processed cheese spread off their faces. Ritz got the cracker right, but the cheese all wrong, and with 75 percent more of it, that just makes that downfall more obvious.

(Nutrition Facts – 1 pack – 190 calories, 100 calories from fat, 11 grams of total fat, 3.5 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 2.5 grams of polyunsaturated fat, 4 gram of monounsaturated fat, 5 milligrams of cholesterol, 300 milligrams of sodium, 70 milligrams of potassium, 20 grams of total carbohydrates, 4 grams of dietary fiber, 3 grams of sugars, 2 grams of protein, 0% vitamin A, 0% vitamin C, 6% calcium, and 4% iron.)

Item: Ritz Crackerfuls Big Stuff Colossal Cheddar
Price: $3.29
Size: 5 filled crackers
Purchased at: Safeway
Rating: 4 out of 10
Pros: Crackers were buttery and held together well. Using peanut butter as a substitute for Play-Doh. Sandwich was large enough for an adult snack. The opportunity to watch a co-worker eat a messy sandwich cracker.
Cons: Cheese tasted too processed. Kids screaming for junk food at the grocery store. Cheese was too soft and messy. Being that adult eating a messy sandwich cracker.

REVIEW: Dunkin’ Donuts Smokehouse Sausage Breakfast Sandwich

Jasper — Fri, 18 Nov 2011 08:40:45 +0000

I’ve always been supportive of fast food corporations’ revenues on new items, and now that the Colbert Super PAC has taught me corporations are people, I am also trying to be more supportive of fast food corporations’ self-esteem. In order to be more sensitive to Dunkin’ Donuts’ feelings, and because their new product is a sandwich, I will use the sandwich method of feedback to review the new Smokehouse Sausage Breakfast Sandwich by sandwiching each piece of negative feedback between two positive thoughts.

Positive: The sandwich stayed warm while I walked the 6 blocks home.
Negative: I recently moved apartments and there are now two Starbucks within those 6 blocks. You better up your locations around here, Dunkin’. I love you, but I also love gingerbread lattes and free WiFi.
Positive: On the other hand, the counter guys at Dunkin’ Donuts never judge me for constantly confusing the only two Italian words I know. Stupid smug baristas.

Positive: The cheese was well-melted and kept the split-length-wise sausage link in place very well.
Negative: I suppose the two half-links of sausage probably provide more meat than a regular sausage patty, but they were like a square peg being put in a round hole, or more accurately two half-cylinders bifurcating an oblate spheroid (now there’s an expression that could really catch on). The half-links felt awkwardly bulky on an English muffin, and I ended up with inconsistent amounts of meat in each bite.
Positive: Overall, the sandwich did feel a bit more filling than your average Dunkin’ Donuts breakfast sandwich.

Positive: The premium sausage is produced by Hillshire Farm, whose founders are in the Wisconsin Meat Industry Hall of Fame. No seriously, that exists.
Negative: Any Hillshire Farm product hits you with a bunch of fat and sodium, and this new sandwich is no exception, weighing in with a whopping 36 grams of fat and 1,500 milligrams of sodium.
Positive: I’ve finally found a Hall of Fame whose membership is worth spending my life aspiring to.

Positive: I guess the sausage had some slight scent of smokiness to it.
Negative: That slight smoky scent didn’t really translate at all into the taste. (I just spent a half hour trying to formulate a joke about the minuscule smokiness of this sandwich, my roommate’s pack-a-week smoking habit, and smoking his sausage. I couldn’t get it to work, but dammit, B, if you stop smoking I’ll promise to stop making sex jokes about you in my reviews.)
Positive: Sausage means penis and that is funny.

Positive: The sausage mostly just tasted like a hot dog (I happen to like hot dogs). As with your average hot dog, it was quite salty, and the casing had some snap to it.
Negative: As anyone who’s ever been to a ballgame knows, overpaying for a hot dog sucks, and this sandwich cost four dollars.

I know that last feedback sandwich was open-faced, so here’s a super positive closing paragraph to make up for it and boost Dunkin’ Donuts’ self-esteem. That was a good try, Double D! Just because I wouldn’t buy the Smokehouse Sausage Breakfast Sandwich again doesn’t mean I won’t come visit all the time and taste whatever new items you have rolling out next. Hey, didn’t your IPO just go really well? If you’re still feeling down after this review, I’ve got great news: Starbucks has buy-one-get-one-free holiday drinks this weekend. How about a gingerbread latte, my treat?

(Nutrition Facts – 550 calories, 320 calories from fat, 36 grams of fat, 13 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 245 milligrams of cholesterol, 1,510 milligrams of sodium, 36 grams of carbohydrates, 1 gram of fiber, 4 grams of sugar, and 21 grams of protein.)

Item: Dunkin Donuts Smokehouse Sausage Breakfast Sandwich
Price: $3.99
Purchased at: Dunkin Donuts
Rating: 4 out of 10
Pros: Sausage mostly just tasted like a hot dog. The melted cheese kept everything in place pretty well. Sandwich stayed hot on my walk home. It might’ve been a bit more filling than an average DD breakfast sandwich. There’s a Wisconsin Meat Industry Hall of Fame. Using the sandwich method of feedback. Buy-one-get-one-free gingerbread lattes.
Cons: Sausage mostly just tasted like a hot dog. Smokehouse sausage wasn’t actually all that smoky. Half-links in an English muffin were awkwardly bulky. Tons of sodium and fat. $4 is too expensive for what would be considered a small hot dog. Judgmental baristas.

REVIEW: BK Toppers (Deluxe, Mushroom and Swiss, & Western BBQ)

Marvo — Mon, 10 Oct 2011 06:24:08 +0000

Burger King loves coming up with product names that end with -er as much as I love watching Maru the Cat videos on YouTube. First, there was the Whopper. Then, Burger King released the Stacker. And now, there’s the Topper.

BK Toppers come in three varieties:

Deluxe – American cheese, lettuce, onions, pickles and Stacker sauce.

Mushroom and Swiss – Mushrooms, Swiss cheese and Griller sauce.

Western BBQ – Onion rings, American cheese and Sweet Baby Ray’s Spicy BBQ sauce.

All come with a 3.2-ounce beef patty, cheese, and a sesame seed bun.

If you find yourself having to choose one because you lack the funds to buy two or three, I’d suggest avoiding the Mushroom and Swiss one. Its mushroom flavor is definitely strong. It made my mouth taste like I just tried to get rid of a bag of psychedelic mushrooms by eating them while cops break into my bathroom, which has a toilet clogged from trying to flush my weed stash, hence the reason why I’m eating all those mushrooms. But what makes this burger the least appealing of the three is the Griller sauce. I have no idea what Griller sauce is, but whatever it is, it makes the burger a bit too salty. It’s as if I’m French kissing a mermaid.

Update: The new BK Chef’s Choice Burger also has the same sauce and I enjoyed it, so it’s pretty much the mushrooms that ruin this burger. Sorry, grill sauce.

Because my mind is like the World Book Encyclopedia of fast food, the first thing I noticed about the Deluxe and Western BBQ BK Toppers is that they both have ingredients similar to past Burger King burgers. As Grub Grade points out in their review, the Western BBQ BK Topper is basically a Burger King Rodeo Cheeseburger. As for the Deluxe BK Topper, it sounds like a smaller version of the discontinued BK Big King.

Anyhoo, unlike the Mushroom and Swiss BK Topper, both the Deluxe and Western BBQ BK Toppers were worth the $2.49 I paid for each of them. So it’ll be worth the $1.99 you’ll probably pay because you don’t live on a rock in the middle of the Pacific Ocean.

If you enjoy the tangy, Thousand Island dressing flavor of a Big Mac, you’ll like the Deluxe BK Topper. The pickles and onions are larger than what you’ll find in a Big Mac, but it’s almost as messy as a Big Mac. It’s a tasty burger, but I have to say the Western BBQ BK Topper tops it. (Tops. Get it? I. Am. Lame.)

The BBQ sauce sets the Western BBQ BK Topper apart from the others. According to this article, Burger King is using Sweet Baby Ray’s Spicy BBQ sauce. While tasty, I wouldn’t consider the sauce to be spicy hot. However, the sauce’s flavor made me wish it came in Costco-sized tubs so that I could dunk the Mushroom and Swiss BK Topper into it to make it taste better. The onion rings gave the burger a little crunch and a bit of onion flavor that complimented the beef patty and BBQ sauce.

Overall, the BK Toppers are a pleasant addition to the Burger King menu. Well, the Deluxe and Western BBQ ones, but two out of three ain’t bad.

(Nutrition Facts – Deluxe – 420 calories, 26 grams of fat, 9 grams of saturated fat, 1 gram of trans fat, 55 milligrams of cholesterol, 820 milligrams of sodium, 30 grams of carbohydrates, 7 grams of sugar, 15 grams of protein. Mushroom and Swiss – 410 calories, 27 grams of fat, 9 grams of saturated fat, 1 gram of trans fat, 55 milligrams of cholesterol, 850 milligrams of sodium, 27 grams of carbohydrates, 4 grams of sugar, 16 grams of protein. Western BBQ – 400 calories, 23 grams of fat, 9 grams of saturated fat, 1 gram of trans fat, 50 milligrams of cholesterol, 720 milligrams of sodium, 39 grams of carbohydrates, 10 grams of sugar, 16 grams of protein.)

Item: REVIEW: BK Toppers (Deluxe, Mushroom and Swiss, & Western BBQ)
Price: $2.49 each
Size: N/A
Purchased at: Burger King
Rating: 7 out of 10 (Deluxe)
Rating: 4 out of 10 (Mushroom and Swiss)
Rating: 8 out of 10 (Western BBQ)
Pros: Western BBQ BK Topper is damn tasty. Deluxe BK Topper is tasty. Thick patties. BBQ sauce is pretty good. Inexpensive. Even more inexpensive if you get to pay the $1.99 price. Maru the Cat.
Cons: Mushroom and Swiss is the worst. Griller sauce is salty. Available for a limited time. Weed clogged toilets. Deluxe is kind of messy. Having to eat a bag of psychedelic mushrooms before the cops get you.

REVIEW: Trident Layers Sweet Cherry + Island Lime Gum

Stephanie — Wed, 28 Sep 2011 10:00:57 +0000

The first thing that occurred to me when I purchased my trim, little magenta-and-white package of Trident Layers Sweet Cherry and Island Lime sugar free gum is that it sounds like a 70’s-era grindhouse action duo. Sweet Cherry is the prostitute-turned-undercover-inner-city-vice-detective and Island Lime is her hard-hitting, trash-talking, crime-solving Rastafarian partner.

I should invent a secret time machine and become a 70’s Hollywood producer. I’d make millions….. MILLIONS!!! (But maybe not if I forget to adjust for inflation.) The second thing that occurred to me is that it looks like the lime is violently bisecting the cherry on the package. This gum will be rated R.

The Sweet Cherry and Island Lime gum itself is shaped like a rectangular block. Upon first chew, you immediately taste a strong splash of artificial lime flavor. Not terrible, but a bit too strong. Then the cherry flavor comes in. It’s not as potent as the lime… definitely more understated. The cherry is a subtle low note to the lime’s sparking high note. Though I soon began to wish the lime would shut up.

Like other Trident Layers gum flavors, the taste disappears after only a couple minutes of vigorous chewing. I thought for a second that maybe I was chewing too hard, and then I remembered that this is America, and I will chew my gum as hard and as quickly as I damn well please. Nonetheless, I did attempt to chew another piece more slowly to see if the sweetness would stick around longer, but alas, it wasn’t enough to prolong the fruity sensation. If this were one of those old gum commercials where the blast of flavor was portrayed as a bitchin’ wave, I would’ve bottomed out on the ocean floor and shredded my face on a coral reef in seconds. Totally NOT tubular, dude.

Trident Layers Sweet Cherry and Island Lime gum is all right, but its flavor lacks longevity, and even if it did last longer, I probably wouldn’t like it because the artificial sweetness is too much. The overall flavor profile of cherry mixed with lime is that of a jaunty cocktail minus the alcohol (a mocktail), although I guess you could chew this gum immediately after downing a couple shots of straight vodka and really have yourself a drink. I’d imagine you’re saving that kind of thing for the weekend. Or for when Sweet Cherry and Island Lime’s Badasssssss Fruit Splash Song premieres in a theater near you, back in 1974. But perhaps I’ve said too much.

(Nutrition Facts – 1 stick – 5 calories, 0 grams of fat, 0 milligrams of sodium, 2 grams of carbohydrates, and 0 grams of sugar.)

Other Trident Layers Sweet Cherry + Island Lime Gum reviews:
Mmm…Deliciousness
Gum Alert
TV & Gum Are Awesome

Item: Trident Layers Sweet Cherry + Island Lime Gum
Price: $0.99
Size: 14 pieces per pack
Purchased at: Target
Rating: 4 out of 10
Pros: High notes of lime flavor accompany low notes of cherry very well. Exploitation cinema. Chewing your gum American-style. Mimics the flavor of jaunty, fruit-flavored mocktails. Time machines.
Cons: Artificial sweetness is overpowering. Flavor doesn’t last long. Mocktails. Wipe out, dude. Forgetting to adjust for inflation.

REVIEW: Pillsbury Sausage & Cheese Grands! Biscuit Sandwiches

Marvo — Wed, 24 Aug 2011 10:00:00 +0000

I hate the Albino 3D Gingerbreadbaker, or as he’s more commonly known as, the Pillsbury Doughboy. Look at him smiling and being shielded by the Pillsbury logo on the box of his new Pillsbury Sausage & Cheese Grands! Biscuit Sandwiches.

He better hide behind that logo because I want to throw one of his new breakfast biscuits at him…frozen. Why frozen? Because I’m pretty sure throwing a heated one at the Doughboy as a projectile is as unsatisfying as eating one.

Each box comes with two sandwiches, which are individually wrapped and split into two halves. Depending on how powerful your microwave oven is, preparing a biscuit sandwich takes anywhere from one minute and 15 seconds to two minutes and 15 seconds. Sadly, for those of you who don’t like the convenience of a microwave oven, there are no conventional or toaster oven instructions.

Look, Pillsbury knows how to make dough and produce commercials that make you want to poke other peoples’ bellies to see if they giggle, but the eggs, cheese sauce, and sausage in the Pillsbury Sausage & Cheese Grands! Biscuit Sandwiches are things they don’t know how to do well. All of the ingredients in the middle of the sandwich get lost in the flavor of the somewhat tasty buttermilk biscuit, which was a little chewy in places and slightly fragile.

I can understand the eggs not providing much flavor, because with a lot of frozen breakfast items, the eggs usually just give everything a little color, some protein, and jack up the amount of cholesterol the product has. However, it’s disappointing the sausage and cheese sauce didn’t have strong flavors because look at the photo above. It looks like the buttermilk biscuit was caught in the middle of a pork hail and cheese rain storm. It’s covered in both, but it doesn’t make a difference in terms of flavor.

The only way a three inch wide and 1.5 inch tall Pillsbury Sausage & Cheese Grands! Biscuit Sandwich could be satisfying is if I could strap the Pillsbury Doughboy to one as I microwave it and listen to him plead for forgiveness as he’s pounded by microwave radiation.

Of course, it would only be satisfying for me.

For the Pillsbury Doughboy, not so much.

(Nutrition Facts – 1 sandwich – 280 calories, 140 calories from fat, 16 grams of fat, 9 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams trans fat*, 95 milligrams of cholesterol, 730 milligrams of sodium, 26 grams of carbohydrates, less than 1 gram of fiber, 2 grams of sugar, 9 grams of protein, 2% vitamin A, 6% calcium, and 8% iron.)

*Uses partially hydrogenated oil

Item: Pillsbury Sausage & Cheese Grands! Biscuit Sandwiches
Price: $3.00 (on sale)
Size: 2 sandwiches
Purchased at: Safeway
Rating: 4 out of 10
Pros: Decent tasting buttermilk biscuit. Getting to bake the Pillsbury Doughboy. Lots of sausage and cheese sauce.
Cons: Hard to detect the cheese sauce and sausage. Eggs don’t provide any flavor. Kind of small. Pricey for two sandwiches. Biscuit was chewy in some places. Uses partially hydrogenated oil. No conventional or toaster oven instructions.

REVIEW: Peanut Butter and Grape Jelly Candwich

Marvo — Mon, 01 Aug 2011 11:27:24 +0000

I’m extremely disappointed the Peanut Butter and Grape Jelly Candwich didn’t gross me out. I had high expectations that every bite I took of it would be a regrettable one, making me pause between bites so that my stomach could decide whether or not to allow the chewed pieces of food to go into my intestines or come back out from whence they came.

I wanted the Candwich to be a complete hermetically-sealed peanut butter and jelly sandwich in a can with a shelf life of 25 years, but instead the can contains the ingredients to build a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and it has a shelf life of one year.

One year?

Come on, America! This is the 21st century and we have preservative technology that goes way beyond the salting and pickling that our forefathers used. If Germany can create a cheeseburger in a can, then why can’t we have a complete peanut butter and jelly sandwich in a can?

What comes in a Candwich can are the four basic items you need to make a peanut butter sandwich: bread, peanut butter, jelly, and a knife. There’s also one basic item you need to include to make it appealing to children — a piece of Wonka’s Cherry Laffy Taffy. And, the can also includes one must have item if you’re going to put bread in a can and have it last for more than a year — a packet of oxygen absorbing FreshPax.

I would tell you more about FreshPax, but that would involve me reading about science, which hurts my brain. So click here if you want to learn more.

As you can see in the photo above, the bread is basically a hot dog bun, albeit a little bigger than your standard hot dog bun. However, unlike a hot dog bun, the bread is not pre-cut. So thank goodness for the included plastic knife. The packets of peanut butter and jelly contain ample amounts of spreadable condiments, so much so that if there was another piece of bread in the container there would’ve been enough for two sandwiches.

However, I’m glad there wasn’t a second sandwich, because I had a slightly hard time getting through one.

The bread is dense, but soft. It isn’t horrible tasting, but I have to say eating bread that lives longer than most Comedy Central shows is frickin’ weird and every bite I took of it was a hesitant one. As for the peanut butter and jelly, both are so bland that they make store brand peanut butter and jelly taste like Skippy and Smuckers. It’s not the worst peanut butter and jelly sandwich I’ve had, but it’s probably the only PB & J sandwich I’ve describe as “tolerable.”

As for the Wonka Cherry Laffy Taffy, I have to say it makes a decent Candwich chaser.

According to the packaging, Candwiches are “Great for School Lunch” and “KIDS Love Them.” I’m sure they’re great for school lunches and, mathematically, there have to be kids who love them, but I don’t think I would give my child a Candwich, if I had children. Sure, a Candwich would give children the opportunity to build their lunch, but don’t kids have enough to build nowadays, like Lego kits, iTunes playlists, dioramas, and relationships with their classmates.

Also, I don’t know if I’d trust some kids with a plastic knife. If they’re clever and stuck with a Candwich they don’t want, they could not only use the knife to cut the bread and spread the peanut butter and jelly, they could also use it to threaten a classmate to trade lunches with them.

(Nutrition Facts – 1 sandwich – 480 calories, 200 calories from fat, 22 grams of fat, 4.5 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 510 milligrams of sodium, 63 grams of carbohydrates, 4 grams of fiber, 18 grams of sugar, and 13 grams of protein.)

Other Candwich reviews:
The Lunch Tray
I Hate My Messageboard 
Dude Foods

Item: Peanut Butter and Grape Jelly Candwich
Price: $10.00
Size: 4-pack
Purchased at: markonefoods.com
Rating: 4 out of 10
Pros: Tolerable. Packets contain enough PB & J for two sandwiches. Cherry Laffy Taffy makes a decent Candwich chaser. Comes with a knife to cut bread, spread condiments, and threaten others for their food.
Cons: Not a complete hermetically-sealed peanut butter and jelly sandwich in a can. Only one year shelf life. Eating bread that has a long shelf life is weird. Peanut butter and jelly are really bland. Bread is not pre-cut.

REVIEW: Subway BBQ Pulled Pork Sandwich

Jasper — Mon, 25 Jul 2011 10:00:20 +0000

The people running Subway might be the greatest salesmen in the world. They’ve positioned their sandwiches as health foods solely on the strength of one erstwhile fat guy’s crazy diet, and the five-dollar footlong campaigns have been so successful that they could actually ruin both the fast food and porn industries in one fell swoop. Subway’s marketing department has even had success in generating great publicity in fictional worlds, as seen by their support of Happy Gilmore’s epic quest to save his grandmother’s house and hook up with the hot blonde mom from Modern Family. At this point it almost feels ridiculous to doubt Subway’s ability to sell any and all of its products; you’re better off trying to dispute people’s enthusiasm for the new Harry Potter movie, hipsters’ willingness to wear sweaters in the summer, or my ability to use three sloppy analogies in a row.

And yet… I had doubts that a BBQ pulled pork sandwich could work at Subway. A pulled pork sandwich seems fundamentally different from all of Subway’s previous limited edition releases. Making a good pulled pork sandwich feels like it would require significantly more expertise than most other sandwiches. Also, judging by the number of hours dedicated to barbecue on the Food Network, people have a love for pulled pork that just doesn’t exist for, say, cold cut combos, so it would be extra disappointing if Subway did a poor job with a foodie-favorite. Finally, the sandwich costs $8.00, and at that price point you might as well spend the extra $2 and order two footlongs, which gets you double the porn jokes AND all your sodium for the week!

The process of actually ordering the sandwich did little to allay my doubts. The pulled pork was held in the same type of container as the tuna, which meant it was scooped out ice cream-style. I had assumed the pork would be held in the microwaveable cardboard trays; instead, the only heating the meat got was from the toasting of the overall sandwich. I watched in quiet anticipation of the barbecue sauce being added, but the woman behind the counter took my silence to mean I was satisfied with the current contents of my sandwich, and she began to wrap it up before I realized I had to specifically ask for the barbecue sauce. I suppose the Sandwich Artists can occasionally put together a masterpiece, but the output of this particular experience felt more like a poorly-followed color-by-numbers worksheet.

By the time I sat down to actually eat, expectations were remarkably low. The pulled pork sandwich beat those expectations, though not by much. The pork was fairly flavorful, if a bit too salty, but the paste-like texture was rather unpleasant. I think the meat really could have benefited from a brief blast in the microwave, which possibly would have melted some fat and added some juiciness. The barbecue sauce was solid, with a nice smokiness and not too much sweetness, but because it was added last and not mixed in with the pulled pork, I was always acutely aware that I was eating “pulled pork with BBQ sauce on top” and not “BBQ pulled pork.”

Would I buy Subway’s BBQ Pulled Pork Sandwich again? Probably not. Then again, I wouldn’t count out the Subway marketing team just yet. There could be some new jingle or a movie promotional tie-in that convinces me otherwise. Who knows, maybe they could even help make Adam Sandler movies funny again (but don’t hold your breath on that one).

(Nutrition Facts – 1 footlong – 570 calories, 150 calories from fat, 17 grams of fat, 6 grams of saturated fat, 95 milligrams of cholesterol, 1340 milligrams of sodium, 68 grams of carbohydrates, 5 grams of fiber, 11 grams of sugar, 56 grams of protein, 8% vitamin A, 20% vitamin C, 30% calcium, and 25% iron.)

Other Subway BBQ Pulled Pork Sandwich reviews:
Brand Eating
The BBQ Grail
Tampa Bay Food Monster

Item: Subway BBQ Pulled Pork Sandwich
Price: $8.00
Size: Footlong
Purchased at: Subway
Rating: 4 out of 10
Pros: Pulled pork was flavorful. Barbecue sauce was smoky and not too sweet. Subway’s marketing department. Old Adam Sandler movies.
Cons: Pulled pork was paste-like. Pork wasn’t heated up at all. Barbecue sauce wasn’t mixed in with the meat. Sandwich Artistry. The potential ruination of the porn industry. New Adam Sandler movies.

REVIEW: Fiber One 90 Calorie Brownies (Chocolate Peanut Butter and Chocolate Fudge)

Drew — Wed, 20 Jul 2011 10:00:10 +0000

Oh, Fiber One Brownies – how do I love thee? Let me count the ways:

…

…..

Let’s start over. It was the best of brownies; it was the worst of brownies. Well, actually not so much “best”…

…..

Fiber One Brownies, I love you true; you keep me thin, you make me–

Hmm.

You know, sometimes a clever intro just isn’t happening. (Some would argue that for me they NEVER happen.) Let’s just move on.

As past reviews will attest, I’m generally not very good about what I eat. Way too much soda, red meat, and sugary products, and not nearly enough stuff that is statistically less hazardous for you than rat poison. Fiber One Brownies are an attempt at a compromise, finding something that won’t kill me and might actually make me healthier without requiring the slightest change in diet. Because I’m an American, dammit, and if you think I’m not eating what I want when I want, you can get the hell back to Russia, commie. Some of you may consider that jingoistic, but ask yourselves this: where’s my scotch? Come on, scotch, you and I need to get this review done by toml;djknsado;aodnj

While the idea of a low-calorie dessert that also tastes awesome is obviously going to appeal to everyone, I think most of us are rightly skeptical of such products, as 9 times out of 10 they taste like urinal cakes rather than the thing they’re trying to emulate. So I went in with understandable trepidation, yet also hopes that this would be the product to reverse the trend. Visually they look okay — kind of small, but for 90 calories you’re probably not expecting a massive brick of chocolate. But in terms of taste? Put it this way: I’m halfway through each box, and I’ll let you know when I get to a good one.

I think “moist” is an adjective most people would use to describe their ideal brownies and towelettes, and it’s also the last word you’d use in reference to Fiber One Brownies. “Like they mixed coffee grounds in with the recipe” would be a more apt descriptor. They’re basically the dessert equivalent of the saltine challenge. You just might be able to eat six in a minute, but if they don’t dehydrate your mouth, they’ll be dehydrating you in an entirely different way in the near future. If you don’t know what I’m talking about, that means you should definitely try it. Let me know how that works out.

The peanut butter ones do carry a peanut butter taste, but it seems to coexist alongside the chocolate instead of melding together. It’s like a gentrified country club that reluctantly agrees to allow minorities in, but then refuses to talk to them and pretends they aren’t there. And yes, I just compared peanut butter to racist WASPs, which should tell you just how uninspired this peanut butter is. And how very, very far I’ll go to stretch a metaphor.

The chocolate fudge variety is slightly better just by virtue of not trying to mix together two flavors that seem bound and determined to fight each other. There’s just a hint of fudge flavor underlying the chocolate, which I don’t blame them for because for 90 calories, I had assumed one of the packaging machines was operated by a guy who once heard about fudge from a friend. It’s a bit less dry than the peanut butter kind, though actually using the word “moist” on the back of the package is still an exaggeration gross enough to merit at least three lawsuits. Still, I suppose if you’ve only got 90 calories left to spare for lunch and you work at one of those places that frowns on drinking light beer at your desk, there are worse options out there. Not many, but some.

Between this review and Stephanie’s shit fit from the other day, it may seem like we’re beating up on Fiber One lately. But really, it’s their own fault for sucking. Sure it’s impressive that the products are so low calorie and will probably induce you to lose at least half of that, but if they taste bad, I can just eat celery and not pretend I’m getting dessert out of it. I suppose these are useful for people who are mentally hung up on the idea of needing dessert but don’t have the calories to spare, but everyone else can safely take a pass. Your colon may not thank you, but your taste buds will.

(Nutrition Facts – 1 brownie – Chocolate Peanut Butter Brownie – 90 calories, 30 calories from fat, 3 grams of total fat, 1.5 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 0 milligrams of cholesterol, 110 milligrams of sodium, 17 grams of total carbohydrates, 5 grams of dietary fiber, 7 grams of sugars, and 1 gram of protein. Chocolate Fudge Brownie – 90 calories, 25 calories from fat, 3 grams of total fat, 1.5 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 0 milligrams of cholesterol, 100 milligrams of sodium, 18 grams of total carbohydrates, 5 grams of dietary fiber, 8 grams of sugars, and 1 gram of protein.)

Other Fiber One 90 Calorie Brownies reviews:
Foodette Reviews

Item: Fiber One 90 Calorie Brownies (Chocolate Peanut Butter and Chocolate Fudge)
Price: 2 for $5.00 (on sale)
Size: 6 brownies
Purchased at: Giant
Rating: 4 out of 10 (Chocolate Peanut Butter Brownie)
Rating: 5 out of 10 (Chocolate Fudge Brownie)
Pros: Low calorie. Small, so easy to transport. Visually acceptable. Tasty hint of fudge. Cheaper than a colonoscopy.
Cons: Non-clever intros. Coffee ground brownies. Moist as a hot sidewalk in July. Racist peanut butter. Fiber dehydration. Stretching metaphors like a woodchuck stuck in a taffy machine.

REVIEW: Fiber One 80 Calories Honey Squares Cereal

Stephanie — Mon, 18 Jul 2011 10:00:00 +0000

Eating high-fiber cereal has turned me into a cranky old lady. I’m not a fan of Fiber One cereal as a brand, so I wasn’t exactly excited to try this new variety, Fiber One 80 Calories Honey Squares. To be frank, this breakfast item’s only drawing power is the fact that it’s 80 calories per serving. So now it helps you shit and keeps you fit. We are indeed living in a golden age.

The problem I have with this brand is simple: Contrary to the ads, I can actually taste the fiber in Fiber One cereals. With this particular version, I had taken my cue from the appearance of the little cereal squares and was expecting something more along the lines of Golden Grahams, but alas, it was healthier than that. Much, much healthier. Which means not as delicious.

Fiber One 80 Calories Honey Squares may slightly mimic the flavor of Golden Grahams in much smaller-sized pieces, however, it looks a lot better than it tastes. The texture is grainy, bordering on cardboard. However, there is a light sweetness that almost rescues it from the depths of blandness. But what did I expect? It says right on the box that each serving contains 40 percent of your daily value of fiber. They ain’t Frosted Flakes.

I shouldn’t complain. Eating hearty, fiber-rich cereal will prolong my life, but dagnabbit, I really don’t care for the weird after-taste. It seriously ruins the experience. The more I chomp on each crunchy piece, the faster the sweetness evaporates, and I’m left with a mouthful of flavorless ground-up wheat particles. Ugh. Not to mention the other thing this cereal does. You know what I’m talking about. I’ll just say this — If you need that much help eliminating waste from your body, you have some serious problems that no amount of eensy-weensy golden fiber squares will fix on their own. Just… go take a freaking walk or something every now and then. Drink some water and eat a goddamn vegetable. Sorry, poop talk also brings out the grouch in me.

Which brings me to another point… Is there truly a need for Fiber One cereal that’s under 80 calories? I mean, you certainly can’t eat more than one serving of the original kind, and this leaner version is no different. You won’t get away with packing away half the box in one sitting. Try eating more than one serving of this cereal and see how long you can go before you’re doubled over with stomach cramps as the 10+ grams of fiber scour their way through your intestinal tract, leaving everything in their wake as clean as a whistle.

Fun times. In the john. On the bright side, you’re certain to feel much lighter. Wheee! Dieting is so easy! Now get off my lawn.

(Nutrition Facts – 3/4 cup– 80 calories, 5 calories from fat, 1 grams of fat, 0 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 0.5 grams polyunsaturated fat, 70 milligrams of potassium, 0 milligrams of cholesterol, 140 milligrams of sodium, 25 grams of carbohydrates, 10 grams of fiber, 3 grams of sugar, 1 grams of protein, 40% calcium, 25% iron, and lots of vitamins and minerals.)

Other Fiber One 80 Calories Honey Squares Cereal reviews:
I Ate A Pie

Item: Fiber One 80 Calories Honey Squares Cereal
Price: $2.99 (on sale)
Size: 11.75 ounces
Purchased at: Pavilions
Rating: 4 out of 10
Pros: Chock-full of fiber. Shaped liked fun mini squares. Only 80 calories per serving. Slightly sweet with Golden Grahams-like flavor.
Cons: Cardboard-like texture. Cannot (and must not) capitalize on its low number of calories by eating more of it. Not as delicious as Golden Grahams. Cranky old ladies. Good for weight loss, but the first pounds you drop may be in the can.

REVIEW: Limited Edition Frosted Cherry Turnover Pop-Tarts

Marvo — Fri, 01 Jul 2011 10:00:00 +0000

When I die, I hope my tombstone doesn’t say, “Ate way too many Pop-Tarts,” even though I have eaten way too many Pop-Tarts.

Oh wait, I’m being cremated, so I hope my urn isn’t etched with “Ate way too many Pop-Tarts” or my body isn’t burned into ashes using a giant toaster oven.

If humans didn’t poop, I would have more variety of Pop-Tarts in my body than any grocery store on the planet. Just look at all the different Pop-Tarts I’ve eaten and reviewed over the years in a convenient linked list that totally looks like a ploy to increase this blog’s page views:

If this list of Pop-Tarts flavors was instead a list of women I’ve slept with, I would be considered a manwhore and probably have/had spread an STD or two. Or three. Or everything that’s listed in the Oxford American Handbook of Clinical Medicine.

The latest Pop-Tarts flavor that has allowed me to add another notch to the side of my toaster is the Limited Edition Frosted Cherry Turnover Pop-Tarts.

If you look at the photo below, you’ll notice Kellogg’s is being very generous by calling these Pop-Tarts “frosted.” There’s no doubt that there’s frosting on top, but instead of a layer of it like with other frosted Pop-Tarts, it’s drizzled on much like you’d find on many actual cherry turnovers. This amount of frosting is equivalent to the amount of skin a Wicked Weasel bikini covers, which is just enough to make you wonder, “Why bother?”

There has been a regular Frosted Cherry Pop-Tarts for some time now with a proper layer of frosting on top. I thought the Limited Edition Frosted Cherry Turnover Pop-Tarts would taste exactly the same. So in order to find out, I increased my chances for Type II diabetes by picking up a box and eating regular Frosted Cherry Pop-Tarts.

After tasting both, the difference in flavor reminds me of the time my parents switched my usual Frosted Blueberry Pop-Tarts with Blueberry Pop-Tarts without frosting. Back then, my young taste buds could notice a significant difference. The unfrosted one was less sweet, the blueberry flavor was less pronounced, and the lack of sweetness and flavor made me cry until my parents could produce in front of me a Frosted Blueberry Pop-Tart.

The Limited Edition Frosted Cherry Turnover Pop-Tart is also less sweet and the cherry flavor is less pronounced than a regular cherry Pop-Tart. It’s as if the Pop-Tart’s nearly unfrosted crust doesn’t want the cherry to pop. But when I could taste the cherry filling, it didn’t have any artificial taste to it, which I guess there shouldn’t be since it’s made with real fruit (not only dried cherries, but also dried apples).

The Limited Edition Frosted Cherry Turnover Pop-Tarts are a disappointment and I’m glad they’re a limited edition. However, if you try them and adore them, don’t fret about them being limited edition. Even though they don’t taste exactly alike, grab a box of regular Cherry Pop-Tarts, scrape off the frosting, steal the frosting packet from a box of Toaster Strudels, drizzle some of it on top of the naked Pop-Tart, and there you go. The limited edition is limited no more.

(Nutrition Facts – 1 pastry – 190 calories 30 calories from fat, 3.5 grams of fat, 1 gram of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 1 gram of polyunsaturated fat, 0.5 grams of monounsaturated fat, 0 milligrams of cholesterol, 220 milligrams of sodium, 37 grams of carbohydrates, less than 1 gram of fiber, 16 grams of sugar, 2 grams of protein, and a bunch of vitamins and minerals.)

Item: Limited Edition Frosted Cherry Turnover Pop-Tarts
Price: $2.79
Size: 8 pack
Purchased at: Target
Rating: 4 out of 10
Pros: It’s a limited edition. The box might be worth $1.99 in a future eBay auction. Frosted Cherry Pop-Tarts. Wicked Weasel bikinis.
Cons: Disappointing flavor. It has frosting, but really can’t be considered frosted. Being burned in a giant toaster oven. The difference between frosted and unfrosted Pop-Tarts. Kellogg’s still making unfrosted Pop-Tarts. Lame attempts to gain page views.

REVIEW: Kellogg’s Limited Edition Disney Pixar Cars 2 Cereal

Marvo — Mon, 13 Jun 2011 12:19:00 +0000

If you truly love your children, you will not make them shave a particular area on your body as one of their chores and you will not buy them Kellogg’s Limited Edition Disney Pixar Cars 2 Cereal.

Even if they beg, whine, cry, threaten to run away, tell you they don’t love you anymore, or refuse to shave that small patch of hair on your back you have trouble reaching, you shouldn’t buy this poor excuse for a sugary kids’ cereal.

I don’t care if the cereal would be perfect in your child’s Disney Pixar Cars 2 bowl on top of their Disney Pixar Cars 2 placemat, which is next to their Disney Pixar Cars 2 backpack that has their Disney Pixar Cars 2 folders and Disney Pixar Cars 2 pencils. If you want your children to experience sugary cereals that they’ll be slightly ashamed of eating when they’re in their 30′s, please don’t try to do it with Kellogg’s Limited Edition Disney Pixar Cars 2 Cereal.

There are so many better sugary kids’ cereals you can give your child, like Cocoa Pebbles, Froot Loops, Apple Jacks, Fruity Pebbles, Smorez, Cocoa Puffs, Honeycomb, Trix, Frosted Flakes, Count Chocula…Oh dear, I think I just got a cavity and gained a pound from typing that list.

So what’s wrong with Kellogg’s Limited Edition Disney Pixar Cars 2 Cereal? It’s as boring and confusing as the description printed on its box, which reads, “Frosted Multigrain Cereal with Red-Circled Fun.” I know the “red-circled fun” they’re talking about is the red-colored cereal, but is that really the best way to describe it? Because the only other red-circled fun I can think of are hickeys, and they’re a lot more fun than red-colored cereal.

The cereal stays crunchy in milk for a decent amount of time, but it tastes kind of like Cheerios, which isn’t a good thing since when it comes to good sugary kids’ cereals, the boring-flavored Cheerios doesn’t come to mind.

I thought with the red-colored cereal it would have a flavor from a red-colored fruit, like cherries, apples, strawberries, watermelon, raspberries, cranberries, pomegranate…Oh dear, I think I just met the new USDA dietary recommendations by typing that list. However, the Red #40-dyed cereal tastes exactly like the Red #40-less tan cereal.

This is disappointing to me, but I think it’s going to be more disappointing for a child. If they’re regular eaters of sugary kids’ cereals, they’re used to the idea that red-colored cereals have a fruity flavor. So when they put this cereal in their mouth, they’re probably not going to like it and say so using whatever new words they learned on the school playground.

Best case scenario: Crap.

Worst case scenario: What the fuck is this shit?

(Nutrition Facts – 3/4 cup (just cereal) – 100 calories, 10 calories from fat, 1 gram of fat, 0 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 0 milligrams of cholesterol, 200 milligrams of sodium, 50 milligrams of potassium, 23 grams of carbohydrates, 2 grams of fiber, 10 grams of sugar, 11 grams of other carbohydrates, 3 grams of protein, and a bunch of vitamins and minerals.)

Item: Kellogg’s Limited Edition Disney Pixar Cars 2 Cereal
Price: $3.29
Size: 10.9 ounces
Purchased at: Target
Rating: 4 out of 10
Pros: 12 grams of whole grain per serving. Stays crunchy in milk for a decent amount of time. Fortified with vitamins and minerals. If you like Cheerios, it kind of tastes like Cheerios. Giving hickeys.
Cons: It tastes like Cheerios. Red cereal tastes like the tan cereal. Poor excuse for a sugary kids’ cereal. You children learning new vocabulary words on the playground. Won’t satisfy those who like their cereals sweet. Trying to hide hickeys.

REVIEW: McDonald’s “New” Chicken McNuggets Sauces (Creamy Ranch, Honey Mustard, Spicy Buffalo, and Sweet Chili)

Marvo — Wed, 08 Jun 2011 11:56:21 +0000

McDonald’s didn’t put much effort into creating their “new” Chicken McNugget sauces, because they’re mostly the same dipping sauces from their Chicken Selects Premium Breast Strips line. Since they’re not putting much effort into their sauces, I’m not going to put much effort into this review of their sauces.

How much work am I going to put into reviewing these sauces? Significantly less than what I put into playing this McNuggets dipping sauce memory game that McDonald’s is using to promote the sauces on their website.

By the way, my high score was 712 points.

For starters, to show how little effort I’m going to put into this review, I’m just going to list all the “new” flavors, but not take the time to put them in alphabetical order: Spicy Buffalo, Honey Mustard, Sweet Chili, and Creamy Ranch. Then, I’m just going to link to my Sweet Chili sauce review from last year and then not mention Sweet Chili anymore.

I’m also going to link to my my Chicken Selects review from 2004 which included my thoughts on the Spicy Buffalo sauce. Although, the sauce might’ve changed over the years, so I will say the “new” Spicy Buffalo sauce was tasty, spicy, and orange. It tasted like other buffalo sauces I’ve had, but it had a bit more kick than my beloved Hot Mustard Sauce and it was definitely my favorite of the four “new” flavors.

Geez, that was more effort than I wanted to exert for the Spicy Buffalo Sauce. I’ll do better with the last two sauces.

Honey Mustard tasted like a sweet weak dijon mustard and Creamy Ranch tasted like the salad dressing you’d find in the middle of a barely-touched vegetable platter at a barbeque.

How’s that for little effort?

Overall, McDonald’s “new” Chicken McNuggets Sauces range from decent to good, but none of them can compete with my beloved Hot Mustard Sauce. Besides that, it’s hard to get excited about sauces that we could’ve dipped our McNuggets into for years if we either asked nicely, paid 10 to 20 cents, or flirted with the right cashier for the McDonald’s Chicken Selects sauces.

(Nutrition Facts – Not available at McDonald’s website or I didn’t want to put any effort into finding out what they are.)

Other “New” McDonald’s Chicken McNuggets Sauces reviews:
Foodette Reviews

Item: McDonald’s “New” Chicken McNuggets Sauces (Creamy Ranch, Honey Mustard, Spicy Buffalo, and Sweet Chili)
Price: 2 Free With 10 Pc. McNuggets, 30 Cents For Each Extra
Size: 1 ounce
Purchased at: McDonald’s
Rating: 6 out of 10 (Creamy Ranch)
Rating: 5 out of 10 (Honey Mustard)
Rating: 7 out of 10 (Spicy Buffalo)
Rating: 4 out of 10 (Sweet Chili)
Pros: More sauces for you to choose from. Spicy Buffalo had good flavor and a decent kick. Hot Mustard Sauce. Flirting with McDonald’s employees to get Chicken Selects sauces.
Cons: McDonald’s didn’t put much effort into the “new” sauces. Sweet Chili sauce is still mediocre. Honey Mustard tasted like a sweet weak dijon mustard. McDonald’s calling these sauces “new.” Not putting much effort into this review.

REVIEW: Limited Edition Hostess Chocolate Creme Twinkies

Drew — Thu, 24 Mar 2011 10:00:01 +0000

I must admit, I’ve always felt like a bit of a traitor eating Twinkies. See, I grew up in the central Jersey/Philly region, and that’s Tastykake turf. If you’ve never heard of Tastykake, that just means you live outside the tri-state area — in the old days, the company refused to use preservatives, so their products could only be transported a certain distance before their shelf lives expired. (This is also why I never bought Tastykakes from vending machines, because seriously, who knows how long that shit’s been in there?) But as a kid, you don’t care about supporting local businesses or fighting the power — you care about eating the stuff you see on TV, especially if it’s shilled by Twinkie the Kid. So I ate plenty of Twinkies growing up, both of the regular (mmm) and light (pure, unadulterated taste abortion) varieties. But in all those years, I never had one that strayed from the vanilla creme standard. That’s about to change, as Hostess has released two new limited edition varieties of Twinkie, chocolate creme and strawberry creme. As part of my ongoing quest to never eat a fruit that isn’t apple, we’ll be taking a look at the former.

In contrast to Tastykakes, Twinkies are nothing but preservatives. If you stripped all the preservatives out of a Twinkie, you’d be left with a 1-inch ball of sponge cake. It would not surprise me to learn that these “limited edition” Twinkies were originally created to commemorate America’s bicentennial; they just ended up with a lot sitting around the warehouse afterward, of which you and I are now the lucky recipients. Not that I care, mind you — no organic food purist I – but I thought it was worth mentioning. Really though, people eat Twinkies for nutritional value the same way they go to Hooters for great food at affordable prices. Let’s just tear into one of these things and see what’s what.

I don’t know if I got a bad batch or if I need to change the prescription on my rose-colored glasses, but the first bite of Twinkie was a huge let-down, and it didn’t improve much from there. Actually, I suspect it has nothing to do with nostalgia or improper packaging and everything to do with the filling. Let’s face it, you can get shitty sponge cake anywhere; what people buy Twinkies for is the creme filling. And as it turns out, there’s a good reason why Hostess uses the vanilla stuff. I had been laboring under the delusion that chocolate makes everything better, but consuming just one chocolate creme Twinkie showed me just how wrong I was. It’s my sad duty to report that while chocolate may make MOST things taste better, Twinkies are a tragic exception. It might just be the flavor combination — I like chocolate creme, I like sponge cake, but put them together and the flavors don’t mesh nearly as well as you’d expect. If a regular Twinkie is more than the sum of its parts, the chocolate creme Twinkie has to be considered far less.

That wasn’t my only beef… joking aside, these Twinkies might indeed have been produced during the Ford administration for how the sponge cake tasted. I remember Twinkies from my youth being soft and moist, but these were tougher — not totally stale, but on their way — and kind of dry. In fact, I’m pretty sure that even if these had had vanilla creme inside them, I still would’ve paused after the first bite to wonder if they’ve changed the way they make Twinkies in the last decade. If so, I urge Hostess to follow Pepsi’s lead — I want my Twinkies Throwback.

It’s a sad day for any of us when the cherished bits of our childhood are retooled to be more edgy or to have more mass appeal, only to end up sucking harder than letting your wife control the TV. (We meet again, One Tree Hill.) We’ve seen it happen with the Transformers and G.I. Joe, with Star Wars, with New Coke. Fortunately chocolate creme Twinkies are only limited edition, and Hostess has no plans to phase out the regular variety. That’s good news, and if I were you, I’d stick with the classic. Points for trying something different, but if you’re going to be ingesting that amount of sugar and carbs, you want it to be worth your while.

(Nutrition Facts — 1 cake — 160 calories, 5 grams of fat, 2.5 grams of saturated fat, 220 milligrams of sodium, 27 grams of carbohydrates, 1 gram of fiber, 19 grams of sugar, and 1 gram of protein.)

Item: Limited Edition Hostess Chocolate Creme Twinkies
Price: $3.99
Size: 8 cakes
Purchased at: Acme
Rating: 4 out of 10
Pros: Tripping nostalgic. Being able to keep food on the shelf for longer than a week. Twinkie the Kid. Trying something new.
Cons: Bicentennial Twinkies. Finding out chocolate doesn’t make everything better. Dry sponge cake. The Transformers movies. “Something new” tasting gross. Brown filling in a Twinkie just looks… wrong.

REVIEW: Dunkin’ Donuts Big N’ Toasty

Jasper — Thu, 10 Mar 2011 10:00:53 +0000

I had high expectations for the Big N’ Toasty. For one thing, the sandwich looks incredibly appetizing in all of its many, many commercials. For another, I like the usage of the “N” – it’s less formal than an ampersand, more fun than an “and,” and less algebraic than a plus sign. In-N-Out, Rock ‘n’ Roll, Salt-N-Pepa: I love them all and they all use an “N.”

And yet, the best-laid plans of mice and men (mice n’ men?) often go awry. The Big N’ Toasty was a definite disappointment. Let’s break this down piece by piece.

The Toast: The Texas toast is really supposed to be the major draw here, and while it was thick, fresh, and flaky, the toast’s defining quality was unfortunately its incredible greasiness. You’ll need as many napkins to eat the Big N’ Toasty as you would to get through a bucket of fried chicken. I actually skipped eating the very center of the sandwich because it was simply soaked through with butter, and my hands were so greased up that I wasn’t sure I could even hold the sandwich in place anymore.

The Eggs: The Big N’ Toasty features two peppered fried eggs. While I could see that the eggs had speckles of pepper and were otherwise a visual departure from the eggs found in every other DD breakfast sandwiches, I couldn’t actually taste any difference. If anything, I would say the eggs in the BN’T were more rubbery and artificial-tasting than the regular eggs.

The Bacon: Before I offer any criticism of the bacon in the BN’T, let me just say that, in my mind, bacon is the undisputed king of breakfast meats, and even a subpar serving of bacon beats the hell out of ham, sausage, or, god forbid, Canadian bacon. Some people might describe bacon as the Michael Jordan of breakfast meats; I prefer to think of Michael Jordan as the bacon of NBA players.

So while I imagine ham and sausage still would’ve been worse choices, I felt mightily letdown by the bacon in the Big N’ Toasty. There are supposed to be “four slices of Cherrywood smoked bacon,” but the four slices were more like two normal-sized strips cut in half. Given the bulk of the sandwich, there were more than a few bites where I tasted little-to-no bacon. Furthermore, I found the bacon to be too soggy, which was perhaps amplified by the excessive grease of the toast. I’ve had much better bacon experiences with Dunkin’ Donuts’ regular sandwiches in terms of bacon taste, bacon texture, and bacon-to-rest-of-sandwich ratio. Granted, the crew at my local DD may have been having an off-day with their bacon cooking, but that would only explain away the taste/texture and not the overall amount of bacon.

(By the way, I just set a new The Impulsive Buy record by using the word “bacon” in a single paragraph ten times. TIB: Where Amazing Happens!)

The Cheese: Just standard fast-food American cheese. Nice and melted but nothing special.

I feel like I’ve been a touch too harsh on the Big N’ Toasty up until this point. If its appearance in commercials weren’t so food porn-y, or if it were just named the Big AND Toasty, I probably wouldn’t have been so disappointed. On the whole, the BN’T makes for a sizable breakfast at a reasonable price, and since Dunkin’ Donuts previously hadn’t served anything on toast – Texas or otherwise – I appreciate the additional variety. If you feel compelled to give it a try, just make sure to temper your expectations and grab some extra napkins.

(Nutrition Facts – 1 sandwich – 580 calories, 320 calories from fat 35 grams of fat, 11 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 125 milligrams of cholesterol, 1370 milligrams of sodium, 41 grams of carbohydrates, 1 gram of fiber, 4 grams of sugar, and 26 grams of protein.)

Item: Dunkin’ Donuts Big N’ Toasty
Price: $3.29 for the sandwich, 4.99 with medium coffee
Size: N/A
Purchased at: Dunkin’ Donuts
Rating: 4 out of 10
Pros: Thick, fresh, and flaky toast. Sandwich is big and reasonably priced. Using an “N” instead of “and.” Bacon, always. Entering the TIB record book.
Cons: Incredibly greasy toast. Eggs were rubbery, not peppery. Skimpy and soggy bacon. Food porn-y ads that inflate expectations.