The Impulsive Buy » 9 Rating

REVIEW: Kellogg’s Frosted Mini-Wheats Cinnamon Roll Little Bites

Marvo — Thu, 12 Jan 2012 21:45:00 +0000

The Kellogg’s Frosted Mini-Wheats Cinnamon Roll Little Bites is like a sexy librarian.

The wholesome shredded wheat on the outside is like its conservative dress and tight hair bun, and the frosting is like its cute black rimmed Lisa Loeb glasses. But behind the frosting and within the shredded wheat is its sexy cinnamon ready to be unleashed so that it can rock my tongue and punish me for talking in the library, turning in books overdue, or not knowing how the Dewey Decimal System works.

Also, just like with a sexy librarian, I would totally read L. Ron Hubbard’s ten-volume Mission Earth science fiction novel series and scan through dozens of old newspapers on microfiche just so I could be with the Kellogg’s Frosted Mini-Wheats Cinnamon Roll Little Bites.

Opening the bag released an aroma that made me wonder who’s baking cinnamon rolls and why aren’t they offering some to me. According to the side of the box, cinnamon makes up less than two percent of the ingredients, but this cereal has a pleasant, almost potent cinnamon flavor that makes it taste like the person who complied the ingredients list has horrible math skills. Two percent? Bitch, please. Tastes more like 22 percent.

Combined with the frosting on the outside, the cereal comes close to tasting like a cinnamon roll, albeit a crunchy cinnamon roll. I have to say that the Kellogg’s Frosted Mini Wheats Cinnamon Roll Little Bites is now one of my favorite ways to get 25 percent of my daily recommended intake of dietary fiber in one sitting.

However, it has a slight flaw that may prevent me from eating too much of it.

A serving provides 90 percent of our daily recommended intake of iron. That’s fine for people who suffer from anemia and menstruating women, but not fine for a virile man, like myself, who likes to put meat into his mouth. I’m no doctor, I just play one when I land on it in the Game of Life, but I’ve read on the internet, and maybe in an old Reader’s Digest in a dentist’s office, that too much iron can be bad for men.

If that’s really the case, a part of me wishes I bled on the monthly basis so that I can enjoy the Frosted Mini-Wheats Cinnamon Roll Little Bites without any fear. Seriously, this cereal is as addictive as the chocolate version of Frosted Mini-Wheats Little Bites, and just like the Chocolate Little Bites, it’s great with or without milk. Although, with milk, it gets soggy quickly, just like all other Frosted Mini-Wheats varieties.

I thought the cereal had a high iron content because cinnamon is a good source of iron, which I also read on the internet or in a Sunday Parade Magazine. But, after scanning the Kellogg’s website, it turns out all Frosted Mini-Wheats varieties provide 90 percent of our daily value of iron, even my beloved Chocolate Little Bites. Sad panda.

Nevertheless, I think Kellogg’s Frosted Mini-Wheats Cinnamon Roll Little Bites crushes every other cinnamon flavored cereal I’ve ever had. Apple Cinnamon Cheerios? Pfff. Simply Cinnamon Corn Flakes? Simply no. Cinnamon Burst Cheerios? Yeah, right. Chex Cinnamon? More like cinNOTmon. Cinnamon Toast Crunch? (farting sound)

(Nutrition Facts – 47 biscuits (cereal only) – 190 calories, 10 calories from fat, 1 gram of fat, 0 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 0 milligrams of cholesterol, 0 milligrams of sodium, 200 milligrams of potassium, 46 grams of carbohydrates, 6 grams of fiber, 12 grams of sugar, 5 grams of protein, and a bunch of vitamins and minerals.)

Item: Kellogg’s Frosted Mini-Wheats Little Bites Cinnamon Roll
Price: $2.99 (on sale)
Size: 15.8 ounces
Purchased at: Target
Rating: 9 out of 10
Pros: Damn tasty. Best cinnamon flavored cereal I’ve had. It’s great dry or wet. Pleasant and strong cinnamon flavor. Great source of dietary fiber. Low fat. Addictive. Being a doctor in the Game of Life.
Cons: High iron content might be bad for some. Gets soggy in milk quickly. Doctor’s offices with old magazines. Getting hit in the face with microfiche.

REVIEW: Dunkin’ Donuts Pumpkin Donut

Jeff — Mon, 24 Oct 2011 10:00:22 +0000

In my lifetime, I’ve put a lot of questionable things in my mouth and raw pumpkin is the least troubling of them. The other things I’d rather not say. One year, being really bored, I ate a slice when I was carving a Jack O’Lantern for our annual Halloween party. I was a bit stunned because pumpkin has no real flavor. Go ahead and eat a piece when you are carving out those triangle eyes or nose.

See? It’s like the edible version of my boring cousin who is a short wave radio fetishist…no character whatsoever. Seriously, the only excitement that guy gets is when he hits one of those weird “number stations” that repeat digits in an eerie robotic voice. Don’t even get me started with the spooky ones that have “The Lincolnshire Poacher” playing after the numbers are repeated. I’m still creeped out when I hear the sound of a recorder or a flute. It’s a bit WickerMan-ish (not the Nicolas “flaring nostrils” Cage version mind you).

Getting back to pumpkins, what we are really doing is attributing the “taste” to a combination of nutmeg, cinnamon, and some ground ginger which is the major trifecta in pumpkin pies. Think about the pumpkin beers or pumpkin ice creams you have all consumed. Nutmeg is the dominant flavor and the remainder plays varying degrees of intensity.

The nutmeg/ginger combo is perhaps the most popular flavor that invokes our mind for the year-end holidays. The next holiday flavor has to be creamy menthol which is my favorite. When done well, both can be delicious regardless of what vessel is used to transport that essence. I myself like a Midori mixed with some crème de menthe for a holiday cocktail but I have great affection for nutmeg too.

If we’re playing for keeps on holiday tastes, my shout goes for all the lucky Jewish friends I have. They get to gobble up all those latkes during Hanukkah, and who the hell doesn’t love some fried potato pancakes and that eight candle of death: The flamethrower Menorah?

Dunkin’ Donuts wanting a piece of that holiday proverbial (pumpkin) pie has intelligently chosen a donut as its vessel and just recently introduced the limited edition pumpkin donut (that has to be the most times the word “donut” has been used in a sentence). Which I suppose is much more appealing to the masses versus a fried potato flavored donut or a jelly donut filled with sweet mint cream. I would buy both but I’m also the guy who ate a 7-Eleven Banh Mi which was about as successful as the Vietnam War.

I warn you dear reader and admit that Dunkin’ Donuts can vary from locations. There is one close to me where I swear the elderly riddled with bed sores in nursing homes are given more attention. The donuts here are hard and taste like afterthoughts.

Instead, I frequent the one where every time I go, the smell of fried dough lets me know it’s always damn time they make the donuts! When a “Dunkin’” donut is hot and fresh, it can rival those of the indy (and trendy) boutique donut shops that food/travel shows like to suggest we buy from lest we are bucktoothed knuckle-draggers.

With that said, know that this review is based on a shop with significant foot traffic thanks to being a neighbor with a hospital that has a major emergency trauma center. I bought two, one to eat immediately and the other to leave in that white bag to be scarfed down the following day. I wanted to see if the flavor held up since most of us are not Steven Seagal and do not eat all the donuts in one sitting.

I mean have you seen that guy? He was the freaking “squinting eyes/taking names/kicking ass” hero in Under Siege. Now that he’s a sworn border patrol agent, I’m sure the only Mexican he is going to catch is a chicken burrito or a beef chimichanga with extra sour cream.

I shelled out under two bucks for a pair of pumpkin donuts. The smell of the donut was pleasantly intense with spicy nutmeg and faint cinnamon wafting by. It was similar to the scent of a fresh baked banana or zucchini bread straight from of the oven. Images of roast turkeys, mittens, hot cocoa, and the Holiday Crate and Barrel catalog permeated my brain. Yes, I want a fifty dollar silver reindeer candelabra to validate my life.

The donut has a thin sheen of sugar glaze which cracked slightly when I bit into the fried cake donut. This was a very welcoming texture and the sweet glaze was just right, not heavy like a frosting. The cake was moist and perfectly dense. Shit, this was a good donut methinks.

The taste of the donut was at the same “Oh. Em. Gee.” level. It was a great hit of autumn spices and a tinge of nuttiness. I really enjoyed the fact the sweetness of the cake came from the translucent sugary coat. Dunkin’ Donuts was smart in not making the batter overly sweet and letting the spices do the singing and the sugar glaze perform its respective job.

The donut was still warm and practically melted in my mouth with each bite. Instead of a pumpkin pie, I actually want a box of these on Thanksgiving which I am sure some hipster already has thought of doing so he can look so “emo” and ironic-like. Screw you and your collection of Cut Copy t-shirts.

I left the other in the bag and would eat it the next morning while watching my DVR’d episodes of The Venture Bros. Did they hold up? For the most part, yes albeit a bit stale in texture but that’s to be expected. The comforting smell was still present and the taste was not affected. I would actually dunk these in milk or an espresso just to compensate for the slight dryness in the cake. Like Henchman 21, you can depend on these being a crowd pleaser. The pumpkin donut is definitely one of the things you want to put in your mouth this season.

(Nutritional Facts – 340 calories, 170 calories from fat, 19 grams of fat, 9 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 25 mg of cholesterol, 260 mg of sodium, 38 grams of total carbs, 1 gram of dietary fiber, 19 grams of sugar, and 3 grams of protein.)

Item: Dunkin’ Donuts Pumpkin Donut
Price: approximately 80 cents a donut
Size: 1 donut
Purchased at: Dunkin’ Donuts
Rating: 9 out of 10
Pros: The texture and the thin coat of sugar smartly combine into something close to mouth-feel nirvana. Steven Seagal was Above the Law and Hard to Kill. The taste is a pleasant pumpkin spice flavor that you will want to visit again. Dr. Girlfriend is really sexy if you put her on mute. This donut will invoke the holidays and make you feel festive. Cut Copy just rules, especially their second album.
Cons: This donut is only available for a short while. Steven Seagal is now Eating Burritos and is Huevos Rancheros Crazy. You need to buy from the right Dunkin’ Donuts (hint: go to the one near a hospital or other businesses that guarantee foot traffic all day and not just the morning). Brock Samson-less episodes kind of blow. Invoking thoughts of holidays suck when the only memories you have is arguing with Dad and “uncles” passing out on bitter egg nog.

REVIEW: Kellogg’s Rice Krispies Gluten Free

Jeff — Fri, 02 Sep 2011 10:00:17 +0000

I believe Gwyneth Paltrow was the first big celebrity to bring it to the attention of the mass public. Gluten free is supposedly the new rage diet of those settled in the film industry. But I ask you, what do they know? These people are the same dum-dums that gave us The Human Centipede and still allow Owen Wilson and Diane Keaton to collect a paycheck. Ask anyone with celiac and I bet you they would prefer to go back to a normal diet instead of that no wheat crap. So if you’re gluten free by choice, I have to say you are a tool with a glutton for punishment. Is it hip to say you choose to have herpes? Neither is it cool to say “I’m choosing to be gluten free” moron.

Eating and being afflicted with celiac is akin to that one bad relationship we all get ourselves into. You know where the sex is good but you have to put up with the needling snipes, the roll of the eyes, and the hours of arguing only to be followed by steeping oneself in cheap gin and tonics. As an aside, I will tell you that I was lucky because my comic book collection shielded me from many intimacies. You could say I was a connoisseur of scrambled porn. In fact, I watched so much of it in college that Picasso’s figures appear normal to me. (I lurve you channel 68!)

Celiac is the awful curse of being allergic to anything with wheat and my wife has it (Yes, I still have my comic books but she needed a green card). Seeing her bowled over in pain when she accidentally eats something with wheat is awful. Yet even with the stomach pangs and crippling discomfort that she suffers, my wife still misses eating a real slice of pizza or twisting her fork in a bowl of noodles. As a lark, I sometimes secretly toss flour in my wife’s food when she and I have a disagreement. Score one for the passive aggressive psychopathic behavior.

Amongst the quinoa pastas and breads made with tapioca flour, I have the misfortune of trying many things that are gluten free. A lot of them taste terrible or weird and some are passible. Now I have to admit, most gluten free versions suck but I have to believe when Marie Antoinette said let them eat some damn cake, she meant people who have celiac too.

So like most couples do on a mundane Sunday morning, we were shopping at our local supermarket hoping to beat the crowds and old people who leave their carts in the middle of the aisle looking for foot ointment.

Perusing the cereals, my wife let out a scream I haven’t heard since she got her said green card for our sham marriage. She stumbled on a box of the fabled Kellogg’s Rice Krispies Gluten Free. Leery of the cereal, I had to try it for myself. I was suspicious as Snap, Crackle and Pop had a fake smile on the box, but most elves do, right?

Upon opening the package, I noticed the corner was stamped “Whole Grain Brown Rice” in a cartoony font. Now all my friends know my extreme loathing for brown rice so this gave me a slight dramatic pause. We went ahead and tossed it in our cart and scurried home to try it.

I reached in the box and grabbed a handful of kernels to examine. They looked like the real stuff, felt like the real stuff but I was unsure if they would taste like the real stuff. Munching on a few, the familiar toasted rice flavor was immediate. The cereal was not too sweet like the normal version. So yes, despite using brown rice, they taste just like the ordinary Rice Krispies. I ate a bit more just to make sure because I couldn’t believe it was made from brown rice and they were gluten free.

I poured some in a bowl with milk, still not convinced they would still taste the same. I usually use skim milk but I selected the 2% in anticipation that it would taste bland. Like alchemy, the cereal let out that nostalgic popping once the milk touched the rice. Spoonful upon spoonful, it was hard to believe but these things tasted exactly like Rice Krispies. The cereal held up in the milk too, retaining that crispness.

These are a summer release and hopefully will be a part of Kellogg’s regular offerings. I am sure that if someone switched the cereals on me like those old Folgers coffee commercials, I would not be able to tell the difference. This was a winner in my opinion and for a gluten free option to taste like the real thing…well it’s rarer than me getting lucky in college.

I was excited because the back of the box has a recipe for Rice Krispies Treats. There is a shortage of really good tasting sweets that are wheat free so I’m sure this will be a godsend to my wife and others who have celiac. I plan on making a batch of these since we bought so many boxes.

This cereal is an example that gluten free is not synonymous with repulsive. I hope other manufacturers can take a page from Kellogg’s and give people suffering from celiac a delicious option. You truly do not appreciate great tasting gluten free choices until you’ve eaten a pretzel devoid of wheat or downed a sorghum beer. I think I would rather eat exactly what those girls did in The Human Centipede, which is probably gluten free too when you think about it.

(Nutrition facts – 1 cup is 120 calories, with ½ cup of skim milk, 160 calories, 1 gram of fat – none being saturated, trans, polyunsaturated or monounsaturated fats, 0mg of cholesterol, 190 mg of sodium, 90mg of potassium, 27 grams of carbohydrates, 1 gram of dietary fiber, less than 1 gram of sugars, 25 grams of other carbohydrates, 3 grams of protein and NO WHEAT)

Item: Kellogg’s Rice Krispies Gluten Free
Price: $2.99
Size: 12 ounces free of wheat
Purchased at: Publix
Rating: 9 out of 10 (if you like Rice Krispies)
Pros: You cannot tell they are gluten free. They still snap, crackle, and pop. Being able to tell if those are boobies or legs.
Cons: May be hard to find right now. Sham marriages. Choosing to be gluten free. Celiac sucks too.

REVIEW: Doritos Fiery Fusion and Cheetos Fiery Fusion

Jeff — Mon, 29 Aug 2011 10:00:41 +0000

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.

REVIEW: Jack in the Box Jumbo Breakfast Platter with Sausage

Marvo — Wed, 17 Aug 2011 10:00:00 +0000

For me, breakfast for dinner means serving myself a bowl of some cereal that’s either rainbow-colored or chocolate brown and watching on my computer, and in my pajamas, old episodes of Spongebob Squarepants I bought via iTunes. But now I can enjoy the new Jack in the Box Jumbo Breakfast Platter while I watch Spongebob Squarepants in my PJs.

Just look at the conglomeration of carbohydrates, fats, and proteins in the picture above. If that doesn’t fill you up, remind me to never treat you to self-serve frozen yogurt at places that charge by the ounce. The items in a Jumbo Breakfast Platter sound like they could replace some of the gifts in the song, “Twelve Days of Christmas.”

On the twelfth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me…
What looks like 12 scrambled eggs
11 Pipers Piping
10 Lords-a-Leaping
9 Ladies Dancing
8 Mini Pancakes
7 Swans-a-Swimming
6 Geese-a-Laying
5 Hash Brown Sticks
4 Colly Birds
3 French Hens
2 Pancake Condiments
And a greasy sausage patty.

Of course, this changes slightly if you order the Jumbo Breakfast Platter with Bacon, which I instantly decided against, because I have yet to find a fast food place that fries up decent bacon slices.

Now some of you might be thinking that this conglomeration of carbohydrates, fats, and proteins is unhealthy. But, I believe everything is fine in moderation, and the Jumbo Breakfast Platter isn’t as bad as what Burger King and McDonald’s offers. A Jumbo Jack Breakfast Platter has 747 calories, 47 grams of fat, 10 grams of saturated fat, 1,168 milligrams of sodium. However, a McDonald’s Big Breakfast with Hotcakes has 1090 calories, 56 grams of fat, 19 grams of saturated fat, and 2,150 milligrams of sodium, while a BK Ultimate Breakfast Platter has 1310 calories, 72 grams of fat, 26 grams of saturated fat, and 2,490 milligrams of sodium. But, again, everything is fine in moderation, even the BK Ultimate Breakfast Platter.

As you can see in the photo above, someone at Jack in the Box doesn’t know how to make good scrambled eggs, but they tasted fine. And so did everything else. The mini pancakes were soft; the sausage patty had a wider circumference than other fast food sausage patties; and the hash browns, being in stick form, were easy to dip in ketchup. Overall, the Jumbo Breakfast Platter is a tasty, filling, and inexpensive meal. I paid $3.99 for it, but most participating locations not on this rock in the middle of the Pacific Ocean sell it for $2.99. At either price, the Jack in the Box Jumbo Breakfast Platter is a bargain.

However, there’s a way to make it better.

Using the mini pancakes as buns, I stacked half of a hash brown stick, some of the scrambled eggs, and a fourth of the breakfast sausage patty to make a mini breakfast sandwich, which I dipped into the container of Log Cabin syrup. It was damn good and it was as if sugar and salt were consummating their marriage in my mouth.

Sadly, I won’t be able to enjoy it for very long, since Jack in the Box’s Jumbo Breakfast Platter is around for a limited time.

(Nutrition Facts – 1 breakfast platter with sausage – 747 calories, 426 calories from fat, 47 grams of fat, 10 grams of saturated fat, 1 gram of trans fat, 438 milligrams of cholesterol, 1168 milligrams of sodium, 586 milligrams of potassium, 56 grams of carbohydrates, 3 grams of fiber, 6 grams of sugar, and 26 grams of protein.)

Other Jack in the Box Jumbo Breakfast Platter reviews:
Brand Eating
A Fistful of Suck
Some Dude on YouTube

Item: Jack in the Box Jumbo Breakfast Platter with Sausage
Price: $3.99
Size: Lots of food
Purchased at: Jack in the Box
Rating: 9 out of 10
Pros: Tasty greasy breakfast. Filling. Soft mini pancakes. Wide sausage patty. Helluva lot of scrambled eggs. A good bargain. Making mini breakfast sandwiches.
Cons: Limited time offer. Eating just a bowl of cereal for dinner. Treating people with big appetites to self-serve frozen yogurt at places that charge by the ounce.

REVIEW: Lean Cuisine Broccoli Cheddar Dip with Pita Bread & Lean Cuisine Spinach Artichoke Dip with Pita Bread

Kelley — Mon, 15 Aug 2011 10:37:54 +0000

Do you work in an office? Do you work in an office but don’t actually HAVE an office? If this is the case, you have probably eaten, or witnessed a co-worker eat, a Lean Cuisine lunch. They microwave fast, there’s nothing to assemble, and they’re usually on sale for pretty cheap. The perfect lunch for a cubicle monkey with a slim wallet and a half-hour to eat.

Unfortunately, for all that convenience, you sacrifice on flavor. I have eaten many a Lean Cuisine in my day; some are just bad, and some are, well.. acceptable. I have never eaten one where I went, “Wow, this is actually good!” They’re bland, but they keep you from starving for the rest of the day.

This is why I strongly recommend you assemble a Condiment Station in one of your desk drawers. (It should probably be right next to your Snack Station. What, you don’t have a Snack Station? Get thee some Cheez-Its and chocolate-covered espresso beans, stat!) My big three are Tapatio hot sauce, Sriracha, and soy sauce. These will bring flavor to just about any variety of frozen meal.

When I saw that Lean Cuisine had started a new line of snacks, I was intrigued. Not satisfied with blandifying your lunch, LC now strives to dominate your snack break, going up against Big Vending Machine. According to their website, “LEAN CUISINE® Snacks let you savor your snack time in so many ways! Enjoy creamy and cheesy in three flavors with our new dips, served with warm pita wedges.”

The dips come in three flavors: Spinach Artichoke, Broccoli Cheddar and Garden Vegetable. I chose the first two because I cannot resist trying any spinach artichoke dip and I also cannot resist broccoli cheddar soup. I’ve been burned before on both counts, but I’ve also had some delicious experiences. I quietly turned away from Garden Vegetable, because the word “vegetable” makes me break out in hives. I have to say “partially hydrogenated oil” three times whenever I see the word.

Each box comes with two snacks. Each snack consists of a small plastic cup containing the dip and a small half of a pita wrapped in plastic. Cooking couldn’t be easier – slit the plastic cover of the dip cup and microwave for 1 minute 45 seconds (for an 1100 watt microwave; add 30 seconds for a 700 watt), remove, stir, slit pita wrapper, pop in microwave for 20 seconds (30 for 700 watt), BOOM! A warm snack in just over two minutes, no outside containers or utensils required. Well, I guess you need something to stir the dip. Eh, grab a coffee stirrer. Or live on the edge and stir it with your pita. Get creative.

The mechanics make it sound like Lean Cuisine Dips are a fine substitute for a boring bag of Fritos out of the machine, but is the execution really there? And what about taste? Let’s find out.

Broccoli Cheddar Dip with Pita Bread

My microwave has to be “special” and operate at 900 watts instead of 700 or 1100, so I adjusted the cooking time accordingly. Both the dip and the pita came out perfectly; the dip was hot but not tongue-scorching, and the pita was comfortingly warm. I was surprised at how soft the pita was; it tore easily and was fluffy but thick enough to support dip. It wasn’t very flavorful, but that was okay; I considered it merely a humble vessel to carry the dip. It had just the right chewy consistency to compliment the dip as I tore off the pieces and shoved them in my mouth.

As for the dip, my first thought was, damn, this is a small cup. However, I had to remind myself that this was intended as a snack, not a meal. I would have preferred a wider but shallower cup, however, as the dip was quite chunky, which made dipping into such a small opening a little bit challenging and messy at times.

Speaking of chunky, I was surprised at how large the pieces of broccoli were in the dip. They also had a bright, fresh broccoli taste and just a bit of crunch, which was perfect. The cheese itself had an overly processed flavor that I tolerated, but I also willingly eat Easy Cheese, so others might not be so kind. It tasted more like Velveeta than like real cheddar cheese. I’m a little creeped out by Velveeta. It’s like a squishy, foil-covered brick of unnatural orange goop. Don’t ask me why that’s somehow more disturbing than unnatural orange goop that squirts out of a can.

There were some little red bits mixed in that I couldn’t identify; Lean Cuisine describes the dip as “cheddar cheese, broccoli and onion in a creamy cheese sauce”, but their website says they use white onion, so I don’t know what the red bits were. I deemed them “Mystery Food Confetti”. Regardless, there was a hint of onion on the back end, which was nice, but I would have liked a little bit more of it while I was chewing.

While in a deceptively small cup, there is a fair amount of dip for a good-sized snack. I found that the pita-to-dip ratio was almost spot on, although I’m not one to be stingy about the amount of dip that gets piled on the pita vessel. I was disappointed that some of my dip burned and got fused to the side of the cup, which is odd, since the rest of the dip wasn’t even lava-hot after I nuked it.

Overall, I was pretty pleased with both the pita and the broccoli cheddar dip. The cheese did taste processed and it did burn a little, but it cooked fast, came out just the right temperature for immediate consumption, and the broccoli was spot-on. And, hold on to your hats people, Lean Cuisine actually managed to add some goddamn salt to one of their products, which goes a long way in bringing out the flavor.

Spinach Artichoke Dip with Pita Bread

A lot of what I said in regards to the Broccoli Cheddar Dip applies to the Spinach Artichoke Dip, too. The pita bread was once again fluffy but largely flavorless, the dip was hot but not scorching, and there was some dip that got burned onto the cup. This dip was smoother than the Broccoli Cheddar, so there was less of an issue with big chunks and messiness.

I can’t believe I’m saying this, but Lean Cuisine really hit the spot on this one. This is one of the best frozen spinach artichoke dips I have ever had. The spinach was nice and creamy, there was a lovely touch of garlic, and while the artichoke bits were smaller than I’ve experienced in other dips, it works because of the small cup size. With smaller bits comes a little less flavor, but they were still welcome.

The real belle of the ball here was the Parmesan cheese sauce. Unlike the cheddar in the Broccoli Cheddar Dip, this cheese tastes totally authentic and is bursting with flavor. There is “American cheese spread” listed in the ingredients, but what really comes through is a lovely, creamy texture and the bold taste of Parmesan. I could even taste a hint of asiago. The Parmesan and the garlic together were fabulous. It was like two hot chicks making out in my mouth. I’m…not entirely sure that’s the right analogy, but I’ll go with it.

I went pretty easy on the Broccoli Cheddar Dip, praising Lean Cuisine for creating a food that actually has flavor and seasoning. After having the Spinach Artichoke Dip, however, I feel that Lean Cuisine could have done much better with the cheddar. The broccoli was great (despite the pieces being a little too big for the cup), but the cheese makes the dip, and that fell short. That said, if you want a warm snack and can’t find Spinach Artichoke, Broccoli Cheddar still beats the sad bag of Bugles that’s been sitting untouched in the vending machine for two months.

As for the Spinach Artichoke Dip, sign me up as a fan for life. Great spinach, delicious Parmesan cheese, and just the right amount of garlic, salted well and ready with a capable pita delivery system in-box in under three minutes. Perfect for the seriously lazy or the cubicle monkey with a short break and the mid-afternoon munchies. My only complaint is that there’s always a portion of the dip that burns and fuses to the cup – I’ve already eaten both servings of both dips, and the scorch fusion happened all four times.

I expected Lean Cuisine to take me on the usual trip to Blandsville, but I was instead routed to Flavor Country, which contains a small town called Holy Balls There’s Salt in This Thing. (Locals just call it Holy Balls, which makes for some interesting small talk with visitors.) They’ve actually got me intrigued enough that I might actually try the Garden Vegetable Dip. Crap, I said the V-word.

Partiallyhydrogenatedoil. Partiallyhydrogenatedoil. Partiallyhydrogenatedoil.

(Nutrition Facts – Lean Cuisine Broccoli Cheddar Dip with Pita Bread – 1 Pita Pocket & 1 Dip – 200 calories, 50 calories from fat, 6 grams of fat, 2.5 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 1.5 grams of polyunsaturated fat, 1.5 grams of monounsaturated fat, 10 milligrams of cholesterol, 420 milligrams of sodium, 330 milligrams of potassium, 29 grams of carbohydrates, 2 grams of fiber, 4 grams of sugar, 7 grams of protein, 2% vitamin A, 20% vitamin C, 10% calcium and 10% iron. Lean Cuisine Spinach Artichoke Dip with Pita Bread – 1 Pita Pocket & 1 Dip – 200 calories, 50 calories from fat, 6 grams of fat, 3 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 1 gram of polyunsaturated fat, 1.5 grams of monounsaturated fat, 15 milligrams of cholesterol, 460 milligrams of sodium, 290 milligrams of potassium, 29 grams of carbohydrates, 2 grams of fiber, 4 grams of sugar, 7 grams of protein, 10% vitamin A, 2% vitamin C, 15% calcium and 10% iron.)

Other Lean Cuisine Dip with Pita Bread reviews:
If You Give A Girl Chocolate

Item: Lean Cuisine Broccoli Cheddar Dip with Pita Bread & Lean Cuisine Spinach Artichoke Dip with Pita Bread
Price: $2.99
 Size: 2 snacks (8 ounces)
 Purchased at: Safeway 
Rating: 6 out of 10 (Broccoli Cheddar)
Rating: 9 out of 10 (Spinach Artichoke) 
Pros: Fast, warm, filling snack. Hot chicks making out. Pita was soft, thick and just the right size. Conquering Big Vending Machine. Broccoli was flavorful and had good texture. Mystery Food Confetti. Spinach Artichoke Dip was creamy and had great Parmesan and garlic flavors.
Cons: Part of dip consistently burned onto cup. Rebellious microwave wattage. Cheddar in broccoli dip too processed-tasting. Blandsville. Cup too small for size of broccoli chunks. Having OCD over the V-word. Admitting Lean Cuisine made a great Spinach Artichoke Dip.

REVIEW: Ben & Jerry’s Peanut Butter World and Ben & Jerry’s Volun-Tiramisu

Drew — Tue, 17 May 2011 10:00:03 +0000

Ah, spring — that magical time of year when a young man’s fancy turns to thoughts of ice cream. And love, I guess, but my wife just gave birth a couple of months ago after a difficult pregnancy, so I’ve been strongly advised to just stick with the ice cream. Fair enough.

As they’re wont to do, Ben & Jerry have put down their bong and unleashed some new flavors on us. This time it’s with a valuable social message, encouraging everyone to volunteer in their communities, complete with a website link on the carton to find volunteering opportunities near you. But not so fast, Walmart shoppers… these are Target exclusive. Each carton even includes a “Together for Volunteerism” sticker with one of B&J’s cows (also known as “a cow”) posing next to the Target dog, which always looks to me like Spuds MacKenzie passed out and his friends drew a bullseye on his face. (If you’re too young to know who Spuds MacKenzie is, I hate you.) Said exclusivity wasn’t any problem for me, but if you live in a Footloose-esque rural community too small or remote to play host to a Tar-jay, you’re out of luck. Please accept my sympathy, as I try to recall which of the three nearby Targets I bought these from.

Speaking of which, apparently by purchasing this ice cream I’m reaping the benefits of Fair Trade Certified cocoa and coffee. I’m not at all politically minded and lack the time to watch The Daily Show anymore, so I’m not sure if that means I’m tacitly supporting equitable trade practices or funding Trump 2012. From what I know of Ben and Jerry, presumably it’s some hippie thing, but as long as I don’t have to give up meat or start wearing Birkenstocks, I’m fine with it. Of course, the other thing Ben and Jerry are known for is inserting puns into their ice cream names, and these are no exception. Volun-Tiramisu is almost a little TOO on the nose, but it works. On the other hand, “Peanut Butter World” confuses me. After some thought, I decided maybe the implication is that volunteerism will lead to a better world, and “butter” sounds kind of like “better,” so… yeah? If that’s the case, I have to say they’re really reaching. Of course, it’s possible all of you got it immediately and can’t imagine how it wasn’t obvious to me from the beginning. Like how I didn’t realize those “Every kiss begins with Kay” commercials are making a pun about the actual letter “k” until I heard it on a radio show’s “things you just figured out” segment. It’s embarrassing to find yourself in the same company as people who only just realized why it’s called a QWERTY keyboard.

I was slightly leery of the Peanut Butter World before digging in because peanut butter and I have an understanding: if it brings its friend chocolate, they’re both welcome in my mouth, but I’ve never been willing to buy seats for PB’s solo act. Turns out I needn’t have worried, as this flavor is composed of really creamy, decadent chocolate with peanut butter swirls in it, along with some chocolate cookie bits. It’s kind of like eating a cold, liquidy Reese’s peanut butter cup that someone has coated with crumbled Oreos, only way more rich than any Reese’s could ever be. It is also insanely unhealthy — after a half dozen spoonfuls, I felt suddenly motivated to name my heirs and divvy up my worldly possessions — but that’s the price you pay for supporting a good cause. At least that’s what I’m telling myself, and you should too. In any event, it’s worth it, because this is some seriously good ice cream. There’s just enough peanut butter to remind you it’s there without being overpowering, while the chocolate is definitely dominant.

If I was nervous about the Peanut Butter World, I had no idea what to expect from the Volun-Tiramisu. Tiramisu is such a unique flavor, and I’ve never been the world’s biggest coffee drinker. But like the peanut butter above, the coffee was noticeable but subdued, enough to make you aware of its presence without taking over. And I wouldn’t have been able to spell “mascarpone” before buying this ice cream, let alone tell you what it tasted like, but it turns out it’s good, very light and lingering in contrast to the heaviness of the Peanut Butter World. The carton also proclaims that it has a cocoa dusting, but I wasn’t able to detect any traces of it. I also don’t think there’s any actual rum in it, although since I was drinking a beer at the same time, I can’t be sure of that. However, while it was definitely good, a little went a long way. I’d had my fill after a few spoonfuls, whereas if it weren’t for self-control and shame, I could have easily polished off a pint of Peanut Butter World in one sitting. That might actually be a plus for Volun-Tiramisu in the sense of aiding your portion control, since while it’s not as bad for you as its partner, it’s not exactly making you thinner with every bite either.

All in all I was pleased with Ben & Jerry’s latest, exclusive offerings. They’re both tasty, I’m pretty sure Target is slightly less evil than some of the other big box stores, and of course I’m all for encouraging volunteerism. In a way, anyone who reads this review and decides to buy a pint is supporting volunteerism because of something I did, so hey — you’re welcome, B&J. I’ll expect the check in the mail.

(Nutrition Facts – 1/2 cup – Peanut Butter World – 330 calories, 22 grams of total fat, 8 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 35 milligrams of cholesterol, 140 milligrams of sodium, 28 grams of total carbohydrates, 21 grams of sugar, 7 grams of protein. Volun-Tiramisu – 230 calories, 12 grams of total fat, 7 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 65 milligrams of cholesterol, 60 milligrams of sodium, 28 grams of total carbohydrates, 23 grams of sugar, 4 grams of protein.)

Other Ben & Jerry’s Peanut Butter World and Ben & Jerry’s Volun-Tiramisu reviews:
On Second Scoop – Volun-Tiramisu & Peanut Butter World
Castles and Cooks

Item: Ben & Jerry’s Peanut Butter World and Ben & Jerry’s Volun-Tiramisu
Price: $3.49 each
Size: 1 pint
Purchased at: Target
Rating: 9 out of 10 (Peanut Butter World)
Rating: 7 out of 10 (Volun-Tiramisu)
Pros: Saving the world, one fat ass at a time. Mascot synergy. Your peanut butter in my chocolate. Mascarpone. Heavy chocolate, light tiramisu. Ice cream that portion controls itself. Pimping volunteerism.
Cons: Inscrutable puns. Carton makes me feel guilty for not volunteering lately. Failing to comprehend simple ad campaigns. Need to be doing strenuous volunteer work to burn off all the calories. Possibly bankrolling Trump 2012.

REVIEW: Keebler Wheatables Toasted Pecan Nut Crisps

Nichol — Fri, 29 Apr 2011 22:00:35 +0000

When I stumbled upon the newest addition to Keebler’s Wheatables line, my first thought was “Finally! Someone has tapped into the sorely neglected yet obviously lucrative grey squirrel market!” I’m serious. My brain operates in strange and fascinating ways. I am afraid of word association exercises and what horrors they might reveal about my psyche.

The Toasted Pecan Nut Crisps were strategically placed on the top row of shelves in the snack aisle. That’s a horrible position for attracting the bulk of the snacking population, but it’s prime squirrel territory, provided my local grocery store starts accepting tree-dwelling rodents as valid customers.

Keebler’s foray into the nut-gatherer segment of the population actually makes sense when you think about it. Of course the tree-dwelling elf company would be among the first to respond to the outcry of squirrels frustrated and bored with the usual range of stale mixed nuts offered up by their overly gregarious, primarily elderly suppliers. I think we can all agree that no self-respecting modern urban squirrel actually goes out foraging among the trees anymore.

Back at my alma mater we had squirrels on the main quad that survived solely on McDonald’s scraps and the adoration of the student body. It was damn near impossible to enjoy a Nature Valley bar in the shade of majestic maple tree on a warm spring day without the little guys circling like vultures, ever tighter, ever closer, chattering expectantly. San Diego’s omni-sunny, seasonless climate makes things all the worse by eliminating the need to hibernate and stockpile. It was only a matter of time before our local rodent friends evolved from hunter-gathering to lounging in little eucalyptus hammocks, munching on acorn-blasted goldfish and googling all sorts of disturbing variations of the phrase “huge savory nuts”.

At first whiff, the crisps smell like Honey Bunches of Oats with a twinge of maple syrup. Each one is rife with pecan flecks and salt crystals. I’m left with a fine nutty/salty dust coating my fingertips, making this a decent option for all those grading their snacks on the Doritos scale of puzzling powder-based messiness.

The flavor is buttery, with prominent pecan, and just a hint of salt. Think pecan French toast, only crispier, like a standard, non-amazing Wheatable. This threw my best friend into a state of existential confusion. She very much likes to categorize, organize, and keep things neat. The nut crisps shattered that careful order in just one bite.

They aren’t really crackers – too sweet. Their hexagonal shape disqualifies them from any special animal cracker exemptions. They certainly wouldn’t qualify as a cookie either, as they’re too flat and crispy. They’re far too nutritionally deficient to pass as breakfast in any but the most desperate of circumstances, yet every fabric of their being practically screams “GOOD MORNING!” from the moment one opens the box. Even the good elves of Keebler seem unable to decide what to make of this monster. The box tentatively labels them as crackers in tiny print below the giant “nut crisps” banner. So they’re crisp cracker snacks? I guess?

If you’re able to get past that philosophical quandary and dive into a box with no regard for labeling, the Nut Crisps are quite delicious and addictive snack… thingies. They apparently also come in almond, but as a former Midwesterner looking to regain some of the street cred I lost in the Popeye’s fiasco, I only bothered to hunt down the buttery goodness of pecans.

(Nutrition Facts – 16 crackers – 140 calories, 60 calories from fat, 7 grams of fat, 1 gram of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 3.5 grams polyunsaturated fat, 2 grams monounsaturated fat, 0 milligrams of cholesterol, 200 milligrams of sodium, 20 grams of carbohydrates, 1 gram of fiber, 3 grams of sugar, 2 grams of protein, 0% vitamin A, 0% calcium, 0% vitamin C, and 6% iron.)

Item: Keebler Wheatables Toasted Pecan Nut Crisps 
Price: $3.59 
Size: 8.5 ounces 
Purchased at: Albertson’s 
Rating: 9 out of 10 
Pros: Addresses the plight of bored urban squirrels. Tastes like honey bunches of hexagons. Peh-cahns. Good random snack. The Doritos powdery coating scale. Brimming with sunshine and cheeriness.
Cons: Suffers from an identity crisis. Possibly promotes squirrel obesity. Pecan dust never goes away. Makes a very sad stand alone breakfast and an even sadder lunch. Pee-cans. Failing a word association test. Stale mixed nuts.

REVIEW: Post Honey Bunches of Oats Raisin Medley

Marvo — Mon, 18 Apr 2011 13:23:00 +0000

Raisins are the dark, shriveled Post-It Notes that remind me what happens if I spend too much time in the sun without sunscreen. So I like to have raisins around in the forms of Raisin Bran, Raisinets, and, of course, plain Sun-Maid raisins to ensure I put on some SPF before I go out to do a bit of nude sunbathing.

Thankfully, the folks at Post have given me something new to help remind me to rub on some sun protection — Honey Bunches of Oats Raisin Medley.

The latest Honey Bunches of Oats variety is made up of multi-grain flakes, oat clusters, a touch of honey, and three kinds of raisins. What are the three types of raisins included? Well, in the ingredients list, the three are lumped together into the generic term “raisins.” However, without using any knowledge I gained from my Journalism 151 in college, which I earned a D in, I learned the cereal has three different types of raisins — natural seedless, jumbo seedless, and flame (red grapes).

Basically, Honey Bunches of Oats Raisin Medley tastes almost like what would happen if you were really bored and decided to separate a box of raisin bran into raisins and bran flakes, and then throw the raisins into a box of Honey Bunches of Oats Honey Roasted cereal and feed the bran flakes to the birds that hang out near the car of someone you do not like.

Oh wait, that wasn’t very basic. But this is: Post Honey Bunches of Oats Raisin Medley is damn good.

The multi-grain flakes and oat clusters bring the crunchy, while the raisins bring the chewy. Although, the flakes in Honey Bunches of Oats are notorious for getting soggy quickly, but the oat clusters don’t and they provide a nice crunch when the flakes get milklogged. There were a lot of plump raisins in the box I purchased, and while eating through the box one bowl at a time, I found that most of my spoonfuls had a raisin in it. The three types of raisins pretty much look and taste the same, but that’s fine with me. However, all is not perfect with this cereal. I do wish it was a little sweeter and that instead of having a touch of honey, it had an inappropriate fondling of honey.

Honey Bunches of Oats Raisin Medley is now my favorite Honey Bunches of Oats variety, and it might be one of my favorite cereals of all time. No, Post is not paying me to say that, although if they were willing to pay me for saying that, I’d gladly accept a check made out to “Cash” in an amount somewhere in the neighborhood of $100,000 and the $2.99 I paid for the box.

Personally, I don’t why this marriage between cereal and raisins didn’t happen sooner because Honey Bunches of Oats have been around for over two decades and raisins have been around since someone got drunk on wine and left grapes out in the sun.

During those years of not having Honey Bunches of Oats Raisin Medley, I’ve had to tolerate lame attempts at combining Honey Bunches of Oats with fruits, like Honey Bunches of Oats with Real Strawberries, Honey Bunches of Oats with Real Bananas, and Honey Bunches of Oats with Real Peaches. I have so much disdain for those varieties that they’ve made me want to throw some Honey Punches of Oats at Sugar Bear’s Grape Nuts.

Although I’ve had to wait for it, Honey Bunches of Oats Raisin Medley was worth it.

(Nutrition Facts – 1 cup (cereal only) – 200 calories, 20 calories from fat, 2 grams of fat, 0 grams of saturated fat, 0.5 grams of polyunsaturated fat, 1 gram of monounsaturated fat, 0 milligrams of cholesterol, 200 milligrams of sodium, 120 milligrams of potassium, 42 grams of carbohydrates, 2 grams of fiber, 14 grams of sugar, 26 grams of other carbohydrates, 3 grams of protein, and a bunch of vitamins and minerals.)

Other Honey Bunches of Oats Raisin Medley reviews:
Pegasus News

Item: Post Honey Bunches of Oats Raisin Medley
Price: $2.99 (on sale)
Size: 17 ounces
Purchased at: Safeway
Rating: 9 out of 10
Pros: Awesome combination of Honey Bunches of Oats and raisins. My favorite Honey Bunches of Oats variety. Lots of raisins. Being the number one Google result for the phrase “Honey Punches of Oats.” Contains a bunch of vitamins and minerals. Sunscreen.
Cons: Could’ve had a little bit more honey flavor. Getting a D in Journalism 151. Didn’t come out sooner. No real taste difference between the three types of raisins. Feeding birds bran flakes. Sunburn.

REVIEW: Kellogg’s Crunchy Nut Cereal (Roasted Nut & Honey O’s and Golden Honey Nut Flakes)

Nichol — Tue, 01 Feb 2011 22:00:28 +0000

I basically picked up the two new varieties of Kellogg’s Crunchy Nut cereal (Roasted Nut & Honey O’s and Golden Honey Nut Flakes) because the boxes just made Kellogg’s seem so desperate. I figured that, based on the rebate offer covering half the front of the Golden Honey Nut Flakes box and the large coupon plastered on the side of both varieties, these things had to be either the best kept secret in the whole flippin’ breakfast aisle or some sort of unmentionable abomination created by the CEO’s nephew. As usual, my curiosity outweighed my gnawing suspicions. I still have my qualms about Kellogg’s calling the peanut-bedazzled cereals “nutty” and not “legumey”, but I’m willing to let that rest. There are bigger fish to fry here. Honey-peanut-molasses fish.

I had heard next to nothing about these cereals until they practically jumped out at me from the shelves. Hell, the product website even failed to locate either variety within a thirty mile radius of my zip code for some odd reason. I have my theories on this simultaneous lack of marketing and desperate push for acceptance. Perhaps they’re a failed vehicle for some early-90’s kids TV show. I imagine them as rebranded Slappy the Squirrel cereals from a never realized Animaniacs spin-off concept, found in a repossessed storage locker somewhere, still sealed and intact thanks to scads of preservatives.

I think part of the problem is that both varieties taste so gimmicky-sweet, so inherently child-friendly. But where are the goofy characters — the tigers, toucans, and Quisps – with their insatiable draw and plush dolls for bar codes offer? Why isn’t there a maze on the back?

This isn’t your average adult cereal, either. There are no berries, no gourmet Georgia pecans, no multi-grain wholesomely fortified goji oat nuggets. Nowhere is heart health even mentioned. They don’t even tout the fact that the O’s are HFCS-free, though this is perhaps a ploy to keep us from noticing that the flakes conspicuously aren’t. In any case, real sugar, molasses, and honey take top billing. Aside from the vitamin additives, the ingredient list is fairly short and brimming with various states of run-of-the-mill ground corn (It’s okay to hate me for that one).

I expected to taste Corn Flakes and Cheerios, respectively, with peanuts stuck all over them. What I got was a Cracker Jack laden nostalgia trip back to lil’ lassie softball and family game nights past. Sadly, both cereals lacked a cheap prize to fight over and retrieve from mom’s hiding spot on top of the refrigerator in the middle of the night. On the bright side, I wasn’t picking little popcorn husks off my back teeth days later.

The O’s tasted both puffy and crispy, like coated rice cakes. They in no way actually resembled Cheerios. My brief disappointment gave way to delight when I introduced them to milk, however. The O’s stayed crunchy for a good while, unlike the flakes, which reached Soggyville far too soon.

I am easily distracted, especially in the mornings. I have a habit of pouring a bowl of cereal and then running off to put in forgotten contacts or hunt for sunglasses. I therefore require industrial levels of steadfast crunchiness. I’m always impressed when any cereal manages to hold up to my unreasonable standards. Eaten dry, the O’s taste a little bland, while the flakes become quite addictive, exactly like Cracker Jack.

At first, I wondered to myself why Cracker Jack doesn’t have a cereal line, and then, with horror, I thought maybe this was supposed to be that cereal line, once upon a time, possibly in the dot com era, back when anything was possible. If these cereals are, in fact, resurrected failures, they must’ve just been ignored by marketing people too entranced by their Tigers, because, beyond the identity crisis, both varieties are pretty gr-r-reat.

Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got a one-way ticket to the mysterious Soggyville and the train is boarding.

(Nutrition Facts – 3/4 cup – Golden Honey Nut Flakes – 120 calories, 10 calories from fat, 1 grams of fat, 0 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 0 milligrams of cholesterol, 160 milligrams of sodium, 40 milligrams of potassium, 26 grams of carbohydrates, less than 1 gram of fiber, 11 grams of sugar, 2 grams of protein and a bunch of vitamins and minerals. Roasted Nut & Honey O’s – 100 calories, 10 calories from fat, 1 gram of fat, 0 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 0 milligrams of cholesterol, 125 milligrams of sodium, 25 milligrams of potassium, 23 grams of carbohydrates, 2 grams of fiber, 10 grams of sugar, 2 grams of protein and a bunch of vitamins and minerals.)

Other Kellogg’s Crunchy Nut Cereal reviews:
Yum Yucky

Item: Kellogg’s Crunchy Nut Cereal (Roasted Nut & Honey O’s and Golden Honey Nut Flakes)
Price: $2.50 each (on sale – was $4.89)
Size: 10.8 ounces (Roasted Nut & Honey O’s)
Size: 14.1 ounces (Golden Honey Nut Flakes)
Purchased at: Albertson’s
Rating: 9 out of 10 (Roasted Nut & Honey O’s)
Rating: 7 out of 10 (Golden Honey Nut Flakes)
Pros: Ever-crunchy rings. Slappy the Squirrel hawking cereal. Cracker Jack for breakfast. The early dot com era, when everything was possible. Very snack-worthy throughout the day. Fairly health-conscious choice for sweet cereal lovers. No popcorn husks.
Cons: No prize. Flakes seemed to have pre-booked their tickets to Soggyville. No mazes. Rings dependent on milk for maximum deliciousness. Rampant family game night cheating. No healthy nuggets. Decade-old Cracker Jacks for breakfast. No adorable mascot. Weird softball league groupings.

REVIEW: Amy’s Light & Lean (Soft Taco Fiesta and Pasta & Veggie)

Stephanie — Mon, 17 Jan 2011 10:00:31 +0000

January needs to be re-named “National Feel-Bad-About-What-You’ve-Done-To-Your-Body-The-Past-90-Days Month.” With all the commercials for Zumba, The Lap-Band, free gym membership trials, and conveniently-placed banner ads referring you to the “Top 10 Best Ways to Bust Your Booty,” it’s a wonder we don’t all suddenly gain 120 pounds from guilt and start rolling ourselves down the street to work each day. Why do we engage in this bizarre ritual of kidding ourselves every year when all anyone wants to do is eat yummy food and feel convinced that if they ran into Tom Hardy on the way to the Laundromat with their filthy socks and scads of unmentionables piled in a basket and their baggy, faded sweatpants on, he’d still give them the sexy-eye because daaaamn, they look good?

To combat the inevitable struggle of many of those hoping to shed pounds, the Amy’s team has done a pretty great job here, translating these normally fattening foods into the language of diet organic cuisine. Filling out the roster of new items: Spinach Lasagna, Black Bean & Cheese Enchilada, Pasta & Veggies, and Soft Taco Fiesta.

I went for the Soft Taco Fiesta first because I’d just bought a piñata and needed a reason to bust it open. No, I’m lying. I didn’t need a reason.

The colors used for the soft taco’s packaging are pretty muted for something that’s supposed to evoke a wild food party. The design is more circa 1990 Southwest Adobe-style retiree living room, and I felt more like taking a siesta than having a fiesta. WOCKA-WOCKA-WOCKA! No? Go to hell.

I have to say that once cooked, the contents of the bowl look pretty N-to-the-Asty. But, you see, this soft taco contraption is more like a taco pie without the crust than a street taco. The corn tortilla is layered between a mound of mild salsa with black beans and cheese and a bed of nicely-seasoned brown rice, corn, and vegetables. As a result, the tortilla isn’t necessarily firm, but it could be a lot worse. It doesn’t disintegrate under the weight of the sauce and seasonings. The ranchero salsa flavor is spicy, but not overpowering, and mingles nicely with the tomatillo blend. The result is a dish that has plenty of flavor and barely any of the sogginess one comes to expect from nuked Mexican food.

The Pasta & Veggies bowl is another convincing re-design of a popular ethnic food – thick, hearty sauce and grated parmesan cheese accompany a pretty filling bowl of rotini, crunchy asparagus, broccoli florets, and shallots, for fewer calories. Similar to the somewhat-robust tortilla in the Fiesta bowl, the noodles retain a nice texture and come out, as the Italians say, al dente. That’s right. I just got all Rosetta Stone on that azz. Another plus: there doesn’t appear to be any excess water at the bottom of the bowl after cooking, which tends to happen a lot with frozen pasta meals.

The ultra-literal name isn’t really something I can get behind, since it’s clearly pasta marinara in there… but, hey, if slapping the word “Veggies” on the box in order to align with the company mission statement – creating healthy, organic, vegetarian meals by any means necessary or something like that – helps you sleep at night, then go for it, Amy’s.

Though it also suffers from the same yawn-worthy pastel color scheme that turned my awesome personal taco party into a sober and mature taco observance, the Pasta & Veggie bowl’s flavor is kick-ass. I was shocked – SHOCKED to actually taste the parmesan cheese. So many of these so-called “diet” items really skimp on important accents such as cheese, but the Pasta & Veggies meal delivered. It tasted like the real thing, not some limp, flavorless imitation.

If National Freak-Out Month (January) is gonna be tough for you because you inhaled a metric shit-ton of Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups and mini Snickers bars in October, followed by plates and plates of cornbread stuffing and mashed potatoes coated in gravy in November, and then topped it all off with frosted Snowman cookies, latkes and gallons of egg nog in December, don’t throw yourself under the Little Debbie snack cake delivery truck just yet. There is hope, little plump one. Delicious hope.

(Nutrition Facts – 1 bowl/227 grams – Soft Taco Fiesta – 220 calories, 40 calories from fat, 4.5 grams of fat, 1.5 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 5 milligrams of cholesterol, 560 milligrams of sodium, 40 grams of carbohydrates, 5 grams of fiber, 6 grams of sugar and 7 grams of protein. Pasta & Veggies – 210 calories, 45 calories from fat, 5 grams of fat, 1.5 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 5 milligrams of cholesterol, 470 milligrams of sodium, 33 grams of carbohydrates, 3 grams of fiber, 3 grams of sugar and 10 grams of protein.)

Item: Amy’s Light & Lean (Soft Taco Fiesta and Pasta & Veggie)
Price: $3.00 (on sale)
Size: 8 ounces
Purchased at: Vons
Rating: 7 out of 10 (Soft Taco Fiesta)
Rating: 9 out of 10 (Pasta & Veggie Bowl)
Pros: Tastes like the real thing. Tom Hardy. Low-fat/low-cal. Piñatas. Fozzie Bear.
Cons: Looking like a hot mess on laundry day. “Veggie.” Grandma’s condo in Santa Fe. The Lap Band.

REVIEW: McDonald’s Fruit & Maple Oatmeal

Marvo — Thu, 30 Dec 2010 12:31:00 +0000

Ordering the McDonald’s Fruit & Maple Oatmeal via the drive-thru at my local McDonald’s made me feel like I was in an alternate universe, where McDonald’s brags about being fresh and healthy, while Subway has a fat Jared Fogle dressed up as a clown as their spokesperson.

Oatmeal on the McDonald’s menu board looks out of place, like a fish out of water or the white member of The Roots.

I know McDonald’s has other “healthy” fare, like their fruit parfait and Fruit & Walnut Salad, but oatmeal is in the upper echelon of healthy eating. Basically, its wholesomeness does the opposite of what most McDonald’s food does. It’s been shown to help lower blood pressure, control weight, and reduce the risk for type 2 diabetes. The fiber in oatmeal helps get rid of the bad cholesterol in the body and makes holding in farts more difficult.

The addition of the Fruit & Maple Oatmeal to the fast food giant’s menu looks like another attempt to be like Starbucks, which has been selling oatmeal for a while. I can understand the appeal of a powerful entity trying to be even more powerful, since I occasionally like put on some big women’s sunglasses to see things though the eyes of Kim Jong-il.

But the question that arises is whether or not you can trust McDonald’s with oatmeal. Are they Boy Scout trustworthy or as trustworthy as a random audience member yelling random numbers at you as you stand on a stage figuring out the value of a Price Is Right’s Showcase that consists of a jet ski, a trip to the Bahamas, a sailboat and a Ford Mustang convertible?

After trying the Fruit & Maple Oatmeal, I believe you can trust McDonald’s.

Sure, the pictures above look like a pretentious health nut douchebag threw up into a cup after some detox treatment, but I assure you it’s not. If the oatmeal didn’t come with so much liquid, it wouldn’t look the way it does. Personally, I prefer my oatmeal to be a bit thicker.

Although I had mine with brown sugar (you can order it without), I didn’t think the oatmeal was overly sweet.

There’s an assortment of fruits with the whole grain rolled oats: diced green and red apples, dried sweetened cranberries, California raisins and golden raisins. They provide a wide variety of flavors and textures to go along with the soft oatmeal. There’s an ample amount of fruits, which ensures that there’s something in each spoonful.

Overall, I think the McDonald’s Fruit & Maple Oatmeal is a winner and I definitely see myself buying it on a regular basis. Its flavor easily makes most packets of instant oatmeal seem like dull mush. Its warmth is nice during these cold months here on this rock in the middle of the Pacific Ocean. Plus, I think it’s hearty enough that it could be a meal by itself.

If McDonald’s keeps releasing more healthier products, I wonder if our universe will end up being the alternate one.

Whoa! I just totally blew my mind.

(Nutrition Facts – 9.2 ounces with brown sugar – 290 calories, 40 calories from fat, 4.5 grams of fat, 1.5 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 10 milligrams of cholesterol, 160 milligrams of sodium, 57 grams of carbohydrates, 5 grams of fiber, 32 grams of sugar, 5 grams of protein, 2% vitamin A, 130% vitamin C, 10% calcium and 10% iron.)

Other McDonald’s Fruit & Maple Oatmeal reviews:
Dave’s Cupboard
Grub Grade
Foodette Reviews

Item: McDonald’s Fruit & Maple Oatmeal
Price: $2.49
Size: 9.2 ounces
Purchased at: McDonald’s
Rating: 9 out of 10
Pros: Really good. Right amount of sweetness. Available throughout the day. Lots of fruits. Decent source of fiber. Winning both Price Is Right Showcases. Hearty. Excellent source of vitamin C. The Roots.
Cons: Too much liquid for me. 32 grams of sugar. Getting oatmeal from McDonald’s seems weird. Putting on women’s sunglasses to seeing the world through Kim Jong-il’s eyes. Fiber makes holding in farts harder.

REVIEW: Yoplait Splitz Rainbow Sherbet Low Fat Yogurt

Kelley — Fri, 17 Sep 2010 00:05:18 +0000

Recently, my TIB boss expressed some concern regarding my arteries and the amount of insanely unhealthy food I eat and review. (I guess he thinks I actually eat healthy food when I’m not doing a review. Ha!)

Assuming he doesn’t want my untimely death on his conscience, I decided to pick up a pack of new Yoplait Splitz low fat yogurt. I chose Rainbow Sherbet, but there’s also Strawberry Sundae and Strawberry Banana Split to choose from. They’re obviously going for a nice “day at the ice cream store” theme, which I approve of wholeheartedly. I chose Rainbow Sherbet for two reasons:

1. I love sherbet, and I used to torture my family every birthday by demanding a Baskin Robbins ice cream cake with white cake and raspberry sherbet. I loved watching them all trying to pretend they enjoyed it, when I knew they were secretly cursing my birth and wishing I had just asked for a chocolate cake like a normal human being.

2. For the first, oh, 22 years of my life, I thought sherbet was spelled and pronounced “sherbert,” and I enjoy sharing embarrassing details like this about myself on the Internet.

I think Marvo will be pleased (and relieved) at my review product choice. It says right on the front of the package that it’s a good source of calcium and vitamin D, plus it has no artificial flavors or sweeteners AND no high fructose corn syrup! With only 90 calories and 1 gram of fat per cup, I don’t think I’ll be keeling over after eating this yogurt. As a matter of fact, it’s probably the healthiest thing I’ll eat all day.

You also may be tickled to know that Yoplait Splitz Rainbow Sherbet meets National Yogurt Association criteria for live and active culture yogurt. I like my yogurt’s culture live, active, and certified by an official-sounding organization. Nothing but the best for this reviewer.

It’s nice to know that there’s no artificial flavors, but I would like to know what the flavors in my Rainbow Sherbet yogurt actually are. If I remember correctly from my “sherbert”-eating days, rainbow sherbet usually contains raspberry and orange flavors, so that’s what I’m expecting here. However, I wouldn’t be surprised if it turns out to be strawberry, because hey, they’ve already got that flavor laying around from the other two flavors of Splitz. I will reserve my right to call Yoplait a bunch of lazy fucks until after I’ve tried it.

I find the idea of orange yogurt a little odd, but considering Yoplait already puts out flavors like Apple Turnover, Black Forest Cake and (oh!) Orange Crème, I shouldn’t be surprised. I remember as a kid having choices like “strawberry on the bottom” and “blueberry on the bottom” and, if I was lucky, “lemon.” Yogurt flavors, much like smart phone technology, have blown past me, leaving me shaking my cane at the diary section and yelling at Crème Caramel to get off my lawn.

Despite my geriatric yogurt palate, I actually liked the orange layer in Splitz Rainbow Sherbet. I attribute this to the fact that it actually tastes like orange sherbet. The orange flavor is strong but not overwhelming, and it’s sweet without being too sweet. You can definitely tell that it’s not loaded with artificial sweeteners because there’s no funky aftertaste. I think yogurt really lends itself to making sherbet-related flavors because both have that bit of tartness that cuts through the sweet, too.

Orange is okay, but, just like when I ate real rainbow sherbet, I was just plowing through it to get to the raspberry layer. As you can see by the picture, the raspberry on the bottom takes up more room than the orange on top, which is just fine by me. And yes, after careful consideration, I have decided that it is, indeed, raspberry, unless the natural tartness of the yogurt is being deceptive. Like the orange layer, the raspberry also brings the sherbet flavor in yogurt form. There’s a reason why yogurt used to be mostly berry-based flavors – they just seem to play well together, and this is no exception. I love me some raspberries, and while Splitz doesn’t exactly emulate the real thing, it comes close enough to satisfy.

All in all, the yogurt is smooth and creamy, and the flavors are robust without being overpowering. I usually prefer salty snacks over sweet, but the use of sugar as opposed to high fructose corn syrup or other artificial sweeteners gives Yoplait Splitz Rainbow Sherbet a clean sweetness, which was helped out by the tartness of the yogurt. I thought it really did capture the flavors of rainbow sherbet, but to be honest, yogurt has a lot of the same flavor profiles as sherbet, so it wasn’t that hard for Yoplait to skip from point A to point B.

I honestly had a hard time coming up with any complaints about this product, but I managed to find a few. First of all, the cup is a little undersized. At 3.25 ounces per cup, Splitz are almost half the size of a normal Yoplait container of yogurt, which weighs in at 6 ounces. There are more fingers on my hand than spoonfuls of yogurt in the cup.

Second, I decided to try it frozen. The front of the package commanded me to do so, and I always obey the demands of food packaging. After a good overnight freeze, I pulled it out and found it to be rock hard. I expected it to have the consistency of regular frozen yogurt, but it was trying to bend my spoon like it was Neo in The Matrix. Before my silverware became nothing more than a prop for my Strongest Woman Alive performance (Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays at the National Comedy Theatre; no cover for the ladies after 10pm!), I let it thaw in the fridge, and by that I mean I put it in the fridge and forgot about it for six hours. Even after all that time, it was still pretty frozen, but I was able to pry out decent-sized spoonfuls.

My main problem with the frozen product was the texture. It did have a nice, ice crystal-like consistency similar to that of sherbet when it hit my tongue. However, unlike sherbet, which quickly melts into a flavorful liquid, the yogurt immediately went from sherbet mimic to regular, creamy yogurt. The transition was a bit unsettling. The flavors were still good, but I’m not used to food doing a phone booth texture change right inside my mouth. It was disappointing.

While it would be nice to have two great snack products in one cup, at least regular, refrigerated Yoplait Splitz Rainbow Sherbet is a small but tasty (and nutritious!) treat.

(Nutrition Facts – 1 container (3.25 ounces), 90 calories, 5 calories from fat, 1 gram of total fat, 0.5 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, less than 5 milligrams of cholesterol, 60 milligrams of sodium, , 140 milligrams of potassium, 17 grams of total carbohydrates, 12 grams of sugars, 3 grams of protein, 10% vitamin A, 15% calcium, 10% vitamin D and 10% phosphorus.)

Item: Yoplait Splitz Rainbow Sherbet Low Fat Yogurt
Price: $1.99 (on sale; normally $3.49)
Size: 4 pack
Purchased at: Safeway
Rating: 9 out of 10
Pros: Yogurt conveyed sherbet flavor. Use of real sugar instead of HFCS or artificial sweeteners. Actually reviewing something healthy. Torturing family members. Flavors were tasty and distinct without being overpowering. My Strongest Woman Alive show.
Cons: Frozen product was texturally uncomfortable. “Sherbert.” Serving size is very small. Being out-of-date with yogurt flavors. Both Matrix sequels.

REVIEW: Kraft Sandwich Shop Chipotle Mayo

Kayla — Wed, 02 Jun 2010 20:29:31 +0000

If the chipotle pepper was a person, she would be a prostitute who gets around so much that she can’t even keep track of who she’s flavored or what fast food menu she’s been on. I feel a little sorry for her, because you know it’s not her fault. Major food brands have been pimping this once unique senorita that used to be found only at the finest of Mexican restaurants.

Even though she’s been exploited and used in almost every way conceivable, I still find her flavor delicious and I’m happy she’s been exploited even more by ending up in the Kraft Sandwich Shop Chipotle Mayo.

I don’t want to sound snobbish, but there was a time when I thought I was too good for mayo, refusing to have it touch my sandwiches. Mayonnaise is as boring as watching an LPGA Tournament (also Tiger-less PGA Tournaments). I guess that’s the reason why it comes in white.

Despite receiving a What Not to Wear-like makeover a few years ago, slimming down from a wide jar, which is the equivalent of horizontal stripes on a fat guy, to a sexy squeeze bottle, I still thought mayo was as dull as watching a chick with a skunk stripe in her hair and a guy who has more argyle than the people of Argyll tell people they have no fashion sense.

But all that changed when I was introduced to the Kraft Sandwich Shop Chipotle Mayo, which swept me off of my feet and caused my taste buds to orgasm in unison. I never would have thought a condiment could do that to me, and I never would have considered mayonnaise being the one I’d go all porno with, but this spicy mayo brings out a side of me that could only be found in the seediest of neighborhoods on the internet where malt liquor flows from fountains and Paladins are turning tricks for plate armor.

The Kraft Sandwich Shop Chipotle Mayo has a gentle kick that really enhances the flavor of any cold cut you can slap between two slices of bread, with the exception of the barf-worthy olive loaf or the even creepier macaroni and cheese loaf.

I hate when companies say their meals are “bistro-inspired” or taste as good as a panini from a quaint little café in Tuscany (*cough* Lean Cuisine *cough*), but Kraft did their research on this mayo, because it reminded me of the spread on a chipotle chicken wrap that I used to order at a restaurant in Metro Boston.

Thanks to this spicy mayo, I now have one less reason to visit my old stomping grounds. The only things left to attract me back to Boston are seeing the foliage and visiting those weird people who gave me life and are still supporting my lazy ass.

Kraft has other flavors of mayo in their new Sandwich Shop line. I’ve tried the garlic and herb, but it didn’t do anything for me like the Kraft Sandwich Shop Chipotle Mayo did. What can I say, I love the spicy flavor and sluttiness chipotle brings.

(Nutrition Facts – 1 tbsp – 40 calories, 4 grams of fat, 0.5 grams of saturated fat, 2 grams of polyunsaturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 2.5 milligrams of cholesterol, 120 milligrams of sodium, 2 grams of carbohydrates, 0 grams of fiber, 0 grams of sugar and 0 grams of protein.)

Item: Kraft Sandwich Shop Chipotle Mayo
Price: $2.59
Size: 12 ounces
Purchased at: Target
Rating: 9 out of 10
Pros: Damn good. Makes a boring sandwich a “gourmet” sandwich with one little squirt. Doesn’t have that globby mayonnaise appearance. Malt liquor flowing from fountains. Argyle sweaters.
Cons: No fat-free version available yet. Olive loaf. Paladins turning tricks. Macaroni and Cheese loaf. Watching golf.

REVIEW: Limited Edition Häagen-Dazs Bananas Foster

Marvo — Thu, 13 May 2010 10:00:01 +0000

The main ingredients that make up the hoity-toity dessert, Bananas Foster, is bananas, vanilla ice cream and the warm sauce that tops it all. Sounds good, right? But that’s not the best part. The sauce is made from butter, brown sugar, dark rum, and banana liqueur. That sounds even better, but that’s not the best part. The best part is when the alcohol is added and it ignites like an outdoor Weber grill filled with lighter fluid-soaked pieces of charcoal.

As you can see, Bananas Foster is a dessert made with ingredients that all sorts of folks will enjoy. Sweet tooths will love the ice cream, alcoholics will love the rum, monkeys will love the bananas and pyromaniacs will love the fire. Unfortunately, the Limited Edition Häagen-Dazs Bananas Foster Ice Cream doesn’t include the fiery theatrics of the dessert it attempts to emulate, but it does have the bananas, sugar AND rum.

Yes, there is actual rum in this concoction, but it’s listed at the bottom of the ingredients list, which means you’ll get diarrhea way before you get drunk if you attempt to get hammered with this ice cream.

The Häagen-Dazs Bananas Foster Ice Cream is comprised of two components: banana ice cream and brown sugar rum swirls. It smells like banana bread, but tastes like heaven, if the clouds in heaven were yellow and they rained brown sugar and cinnamon and occasionally spritzed rum. The banana ice cream has a strong flavor, but thankfully it isn’t artificial, like most of Heidi Montag’s body. The banana, brown sugar, cinnamon and rum create an awesome, creamy combination that will help you forget about an ex-boyfriend or any other stereotypical scenario seen in movies or on television where eating ice cream is used to help one cope or as encouragement for children to be victorious in the sport they are participating in.

I can’t say whether or not this ice cream tastes like Bananas Foster because I’m too poor to eat at any of the fine dining establishments that offer the dessert and, just like cavemen and mummies, I’m terrified of fire.

However, if Bananas Foster tastes just as titillating as the Limited Edition Häagen-Dazs Bananas Foster Ice Cream, I’ll look forward to the day when I can afford to eat at a fine dining establishment, be called “sir” by the employees, drink out of real crystal glasses that make noises when glide my finger around the rim and, after building up some courage, order Bananas Foster — with a side order of fire extinguisher.

(Nutrition Facts – 1/2 cup – 240 calories, 13 grams of fat, 8 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 70 milligrams of cholesterol, 75 milligrams of sodium, 27 grams of carbohydrates, 0 grams of fiber, 23 grams of sugar, 4 grams of protein, 8% vitamin A and 10% calcium.)

Item: Limited Edition Häagen-Dazs Bananas Foster
Price: $3.99
Size: 14 ounces
Purchased at: Safeway
Rating: 9 out of 10
Pros: Damn good. Smells like banana bread. Banana ice cream doesn’t have an artificial taste. Creamy good. Will help you forget about exes and encourage children to be victorious in sports, if you believe what you seen on television or in the movies.
Cons: Can’t get drunk off of the rum in the ice cream. This ice cream doesn’t have any fiery theatrics. Only available until December. Doesn’t come in a full pint size. Heidi Montag before her plastic surgery. Heidi Montag after her plastic surgery. Fire.