Back in 1996, my life was at a crossroads − kind of like that crappy Britney Spears movie, I forget what it’s called. Anyways, it was a crazy time to be living. I had done some experimenting with alcohol and drugs, which was a big deal considering I was eight years old at the time. The only thing that kept me going was my torrid love affair with dance. It was during this time period that I became known as the Asian Sensation.

In those days, political correctness had not yet spread throughout the country. My racially exploitive nickname was simple, catchy, and just as memorable as my jumping splits. Dancing was the only time I felt free. This was mostly because they kept me in a small cage when I wasn’t dancing, but I digress. My upstart career came to an abrupt end when I grotesquely tore my groin muscles right off of the bone. I had not thought about dance since then until I tuned in to the new season of Dancing With the Stars to indulge my irrational man-crush on Adam Carolla.

All of the memories came rushing back to me, filling me with a deep sorrow fueled by the stagnation in my soles. I had to cope with my disappoint the same way that I always do: shopping and eating. It’s one of my many ambiguously feminine traits. To my surprise, I came across egg rolls that shared my former moniker. They were Asian Sensations Chicken Egg Rolls, produced by the probably-not-Asian-but-sounds-Asian-enough-to-be-sort-of-authentic Schwan’s frozen food company. The picture on the box looked appetizing, so I decided to give it a shot.

Once taken out of the box, I was cheered up by the fact that the individually-wrapped egg rolls were fairly substantial. One is big enough to pair with some fried rice for a filling lunch. I threw one in the toaster oven and waited as it cooked, tapping my toes all the while. When it finished, I tore it open to see its innards. It contained cabbage, processed chicken, celery, carrots, and onions, but all I could really see was chicken and cabbage. It was all I could taste too; the vegetables were chopped so fine that all of the texture was lost. Even worse, the indiscernible sauce was annoyingly sweet and added no spice or excitement to the experience. The egg rolls were edible, but certainly not deserving of the Asian Sensation name.

Still feeling kind of down, I visited their website, AsianSensations.com, to see if it might be a porn site of some kind. It is not, but apparently I can win a private concert with singer Julie Roberts. This begs several questions. One − who the hell is Julie Roberts? Two − why is Asian Sensations promoting a white blonde as their big star? And finally − is “private concert” a thinly-veiled euphemism for “hot sexual tryst?”

Either way, none of it adds up and I haven’t been this confused since my high school crush explained that she was “not necessarily un-attracted” to me. Alas, it was another lesson learned: don’t look to egg rolls to solve your life problems.

(Nutritional Facts - 1 egg roll - 140 calories, 5 grams of fat, 1.5 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 10 mg of cholesterol, 400mg sodium, 20 grams of carbs, 1 gram of dietary fiber, 2 grams of sugar, 5 grams of protein, 15% Vitamin A, 6% Vitamin C, 2% Calcium, and 8% Iron)

Item: Asian Sensations Chicken Egg Rolls
Price: $2.50
Purchased at: Albertsons
Rating: 6 out of 10
Pros: Reasonably priced and fairly big egg rolls. Egg rolls are both microwaveable and oven-able. Being a badass on the dance floor. Possible contest sex with Julie Roberts.
Cons: Flavor is a little to sweet to eat by itself. Vegetables all come together in a soggy mass. Eating away your pain. Tearing groin muscles. Crushes that try to let you down easy but end up destroying your psyche instead.

With so many new products coming out every month, it’s become very hard to be competitive in the world of frozen pizzas. Creepy weirdo Wolfgang Puck and the fancy folks at California Pizza Kitchen can make shopping for a decent pizza very confusing. You’re already racking your brain wondering how Rachael Ray got her own talk show; you don’t need more queries running through your head.

So when you don’t feel like having peanut butter or bean sprouts on your pizza, you want something hearty, simple, and fattening. That’s where the Red Baron comes in. When he isn’t shooting down pilots during World War I, he’s making cheap frozen pizzas that are made with four foundational ingredients: cheese, dough, sauce, and grease. Pepperoni is often added for flavor. This is the case with these mini deep dish pizzas, which are look like the result of Bagel Bites ingesting a cocktail of steroids and HGH every morning.

Half of the battle with enjoying a frozen pizza is how you cook it. In my lazier days, I would simply microwave the crap out of it and then fry it on a bed of butter and parmesan cheese to crisp up the bottom. It was definitely quicker, but was it really worth the shame spiral that I put myself through? Probably not. The toaster oven is really the best place to heat these up, as you simply throw it in for ten minutes before being rewarded with crispy rounds of pizza goodness.

The box, though, claims that it is microwavable. We all know, however, that microwave pizzas are forever doomed to be disgusting and impossible to heat evenly. The cheese and sauce form a pink blob of sadness as they meld together in unholy matrimony. The cheese on the outside is burnt and the middle of the pizzas are filled with a small pool of water from the uncooked cheese. I’d venture a guess and say that the silver “crisping” trays that come with most microwavable pizzas are made from painted cardboard. This method of cooking is not recommended.

As for the pizzas themselves, they are sufficient for a quick snack and are perfect as an hors d’oeuvre at a hoity-toity sports party. You can even use them to feed your friends who you do not think can eat a regular pizza without smearing toppings all over your furniture. They are easy to eat and have those delectable cubes of pepperoni in order to ensure that every bite is filled with that greasy and salty flavor that America has fallen in love with.

Just don’t be expecting a Chicago deep dish where the majority of the pizza is toppings. These pizzas are mostly crust, so those of you who love your toppings and sauce might want to steer clear. Overall, it’s a cheap and filling pizza product that’s easy to make. You may not be getting any organic toppings or a message about some type of fair trade, but you’ll probably be too stuffed to care.

(Nutritional Facts - 4 pizzas - 470 calories, 26 grams of fat, 13 grams of saturated fat, 0.5 grams of trans fat, 40 mg of cholesterol, 980mg sodium, 43 grams of carbs, 2 grams of dietary fiber, 4 grams of sugar, 16 grams of protein, 8% Vitamin A, 4% Vitamin C, 20% Calcium, and 15% Iron)

Item: Red Baron Singles: Pepperoni Deep Dish Mini Pizzas
Price: $2.00
Purchased at: Albertsons
Rating: 7 out of 10
Pros: Cubed pepperoni and ergonomic design makes for easy eating. Very quick to crisp up in the toaster oven. Can be served on a fancy tray with other bite-sized appetizers.
Cons: Mostly crust. Come out terribly in the microwave. Shopping for frozen pizzas can be confusing. Frying a microwaved pizza in order to crisp it up.

Is the holiday season getting you down? Are you shopping for people based on how much you can stand them instead of considering their interests? Did you find your date for that Christmas party by posting an ad on Craigslist? Did you slip her a $50 so that she would pretend that she met you when you were volunteering at a children’s hospital?

Well, join the club.

It has indeed been a hectic season for me. Money earned at regular jobs has gone into the pockets of corporate America. Money earned working odd jobs has gone into the hands of the dealer on the street corner. I can’t even walk by a Spencer Gifts without lamenting that I can’t afford gag presents. When you can’t afford fake things, it’s probably time to start over.

Instead of feeling down, I decided to treat myself by trying something new at the supermarket. You can say that I am merely eating my emotions, but this isn’t the season for judging. I saw this box of Oscar Mayer Deli Creations tempting me with its promise of being “hot and melty.” It was rather expensive for being less than half a pound, $3.50, but I figured that I was already broke so I might as well hit rock bottom before clawing my way back up.

When I got home, it really did feel like opening a Christmas package. It had all types of goodies, coming with “steakhouse roast beef,” a long slice of real cheese, sauce, mayonnaise, and a roll. Most of this stuff is dirt cheap by itself, but it seems rather impressive when it’s bunched up like this. I’m not sure why I would need two condiments, but I appreciate the choice. I assembled the sandwich and put it on its special microwavable tray. Less than a minute later, it was indeed hot and melty.

It sure looked good enough, if not a little thin, but I was not very impressed with the taste. This roast beef is as close to real roast beef as Arby’s is, which should disturb you if you’ve ever eaten at Arby’s and wondered how they managed to get ham from a cow. It’s not quite that salty, but it’s still not close to resembling whatever I’ve eaten at a real steakhouse or barbecue joint. The “steakhouse” sauce is even eerily reminiscent of Arby’s sauce, a tangy, yet smokey mix of tomato and vinegar. I also found out that I prefer fake pasteurized cheese to real cheese, as the flavor of the sharp cheddar is a bit overwhelming. I think I can blame that on my corrupted sense of taste, though.

Individually, each ingredient isn’t worth very much. The meat could be found in packages for about 80 cents, the bread is worth about a quarter, the cheese is about 10 cents, and the mayonnaise and sauce are free at most fast food places. $3.50 is way too much to pay for this, even if it were an awesome sandwich. My advice is: buy each ingredient individually or just go to the local sub shop for a sandwich. Also, steal as many condiment packages as you can. You may feel bad, but it’s the only way to save some money so you can buy some fake gifts for the people you tolerate.

(Nutritional Facts - 1 package - 460 calories, 16 grams of fat, 6 grams of saturated fat, 0.5 grams of trans fat, 60 mg of cholesterol, 1410mg sodium, 51 grams of carbs, 3 grams of dietary fiber, 13 grams of sugar, 29 grams of protein, 6% Vitamin A, 2% Vitamin C, 20% Calcium, and 25% Iron)

(Editor’s Note: Abi at HER (aka Heat Eat Review) reviewed the Honey Ham and Swiss version of the Oscar Mayer Deli Creations.)

Item: Oscar Meyer Deli Creations Steakhouse Cheddar
Price: $3.50
Purchased at: Albertsons
Rating: 4 out of 10
Pros: Comes packaged in a fancy box with each item individually sealed. Comes out hot and melty from the microwave. Choice of two condiments.
Cons: Tastes like it came from Arby’s. Not very big or filling. Pretty pricey for what you get. Not being able to afford fake gifts.

It’s finals time for me this week. Normally this would mean crying in my bath tub and listening to my Hillary Duff CD, but it’s about time that I grew up. It’s time to accept my fate head on.

Never again will I create an elaborate scheme of coughs and finger taps with my classmates in order to cheat. No longer will I go up to my professors and insist that I will do “anything…and I do mean anything” in order to pass a class. I could go on, but I don’t want to further incriminate myself.

As always, I look to shopping to relieve my stress. Obviously, this only causes more stress when the debt collectors constantly harass me via telephone, but it helps me relax for the time being. I decided to look for products that may help me during this tumultuous week. I ended up buying bananas, tuna, Red Bull, and this box of Green Giant Healthy Vision Vegetables. I purchased these items not only because I love banana-tuna sandwiches, but because these are all supposed to help my noggin stay sharp.

The Green Giant’s claim of vision improvement intrigued me the most because I have worn glasses since high school and have become progressively blinder throughout the years. I thought that it would be nice if a small bag of frozen vegetables would help me overcome this, but this is probably a case of wishful thinking. Nevertheless, I opened the box and decided to heat it up as a side dish to some grilled chicken.

I was happy to find that the contents came in a nice bag meant for steam-cooking. The vegetables included are sliced carrots, zucchini, and sliced green beans in a rosemary-butter sauce. This is certainly fancier than the depressing packages of wilted peas and corn that you usually get with frozen vegetables. After a few minutes, the bag looked like it was about to explode, so I took it out of the microwave.

My first bite was pleasant. The vegetables maintained a reasonable amount of texture and the sauce was not overpowering. It certainly made me feel better to eat this between my stacks of frozen dinners and piles of Snickers bars, so the purchase was worth it.

Unfortunately, I did not gain the powers of x-ray vision or the ability to see answers to tests. Oh, if only passing finals were as easily as heating up frozen vegetables. It looks like in order to continue with higher education, I will once again have to make the grade the hard way.

(Nutritional Facts - 1 cup - 45 calories, 2 grams of fat, 1 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 5 mg of cholesterol, 220mg sodium, 6 grams of carbs, 2 grams of dietary fiber, 3 grams of sugar, 1 gram of protein, 30% Vitamin A, 2% Vitamin C, and 2% Calcium)

Item: Green Giant Healthy Vision Vegetables
Price: $1.50
Purchased at: Albertsons
Rating: 4 out of 5
Pros: Easy to prepare. Steam-cooking helps keep vegetables moist without being water-logged. Rosemary-butter sauce tastes pretty good.
Cons: Bag looks like it could explode at any moment in the microwave. Vegetables have no discernible effect on vision. Finals week. Crying while listening to Hillary Duff. Making the grade the hard way.

The night started off innocently enough. But then again, so did OJ Simpson’s acting career. I looked in the mirror and declared that I would stay cool. You don’t want to do anything crazy at a Halloween party. You never know what can happen once you get going. Or what you will buy.

After hitting the dance floor, I soon found myself with a cute girl in a skimpy tiger costume. After adjusting her beer goggles with a few drinks, I decided to try out a few of my patented moves. I went for the Wisconsin Bulldog and the Orange Creamsicle, but had my hand knocked away when I went for the Magic Bullet. I briefly thought to myself, “Does enjoying this make me a furry?” but then proceeded to get my groove on. I soon realized that I dance the same way I make love…very, very awkwardly.

One thing led to another and I ended up in her place with a massive hangover. I had no idea about what had gone on since we were last on the dance floor.

“Did we…did we do it?” I asked, hoping that I totally did it with her.

“Uhh…no,” she said. “Don’t you remember? You said you’d rather go shopping for food. Kept mumbling something about becoming god of all internet reviewers and the dancing queen.”

“Well, that does sound like something I’d do,” I remarked. “But then why am I naked and handcuffed to the bed?”

“I’m not sure, I left you alone after we came back,” she answered.

Hmm…she had a point. That is how I sleep every night. But I wish she hadn’t seen me like this. After I freed myself, I figured that I might as well raid the fridge. I needed something substantial to keep my head from throbbing. What I found was more than I was prepared to handle…

“Oh…my…god…What the fuck is this?!” I asked.

“I don’t know, I think you bought it,” she replied.

I stared at the box and slowly shook my head. Son of a bitch, I even hate myself when I’m on a drunken food purchase binge! I either secretly want to kill myself or have become such a diabolical genius that I went insane. This bowl was by far the scariest thing I had seen all weekend.

It was an unholy bowl of bacon, eggs, potatoes, and cheese — all mixed together so you can eat it like the failure that Jimmy Dean thinks you are. Did I mention that there’s a lot of fucking bacon in this thing? There’s like a ridiculous, enough-salt-to-melt-an-iceberg amount? I couldn’t really imagine ingesting it, but I didn’t have many options. It was either this or some ramen flavor packets that she had saved up. Seeing as it is Halloween season, I figured that I had a duty to myself and for the fine readers to indulge my morbid curiosity.

This bowl has no practical reason for existing other than as a product of a dare at some marketing department, so I tried to alleviate my fears by thinking the situation through. I’m sure it had to be quality tested. Some tasters actually had to survive long enough to give this thing the thumbs up. And at a mere 8 ounces, it didn’t seem like much of a meal. It couldn’t make me feel that bad, right? This was all before realizing that it would be healthier if I ate a tub of Crisco.

I eventually got around to microwaving this bad boy and watched it rotate for the full 3 minutes. By minute two, the air had been permeated by the nauseating scent of grease and cheese. I opened the plastic film to take in the beauty of the bowl’s contents. Oh, did I say beauty? I meant brain-exploding hideousness. The cheese had ceased to resemble anything appetizing and clung to the eggs like melted plastic. The potatoes had the glossy shine of a mint condition baseball card. The eggs were essentially pieces of yellow Styrofoam tossed together with chopped bacon.

This is the breakfast that 8-year-old children cook for their mothers’ birthdays. They fumble around in the kitchen, throw everything together, and then microwave the shit out of it so they can serve breakfast in bed. The mom will take two bites and make an exaggerated “mmm…” sound while vigorously rubbing her stomach. The child will then run off and laugh as she proceeds to dump the contents of the bowl in a trash can and begins to manually induce vomiting.

I tried a few bites. It was strange, but it wasn’t completely awful. Salty, greasy, and stiff, but still kind of edible. I’ve probably had worse breakfasts. I’m not sure why I’d pay $2.99 for this when I could have a small, possibly mentally challenged child make me the same thing at a fraction of the cost. As I was trying to justify my purchase, however, I started to wonder why I was suddenly nauseous.

The back of the box had my answer. Hmm…33 grams of fat, 1490 mg of sodium, 132% of my daily cholesterol allowance. Why don’t they include a complimentary vial of poison while they’re at it? And why exactly is an individual serving of a meal allowed to exceed 100% of something that can kill me? Well, at least it has 2 grams of fiber so I can stay regular after I collapse face first as I suffer a heart attack trying to walk down at set of stairs at school. Maybe I’ll wake up naked in a hospital bed with handcuffs on. That won’t be weird at all.

(Nutritional Facts - 1 Bowl - 520 calories, 33 grams of fat, 13 grams of saturated fat, 1.5 grams of trans fat, 395 mg of cholesterol, 1490mg sodium, 21 grams of carbs, 2 grams of dietary fiber, 0 grams of sugar, 30 grams of protein, 20% Vitamin A, 6% Vitamin C, 25% Calcium, and 15% Iron)

Item: Jimmy Dean Bacon Breakfast Bowl
Price: $2.99
Purchased at: Stater Brothers
Rating: 2 out of 5
Pros: Not completely inedible. The possibility of getting laid at Halloween parties. When children are thoughtful even when they are incompetent.
Cons: Horrible mixture of horrible-for-you foods. Food gets overcooked and therefore stiff after microwave nuking. Enough cholesterol to kill you 1.32 times in a day. Not getting laid at Halloween parties. Waking up naked with handcuffs and not finding it unusual.

Hi, boys and girls. Today, we’re going to learn about sharing. Can you say sharing?

Good job!

Have you ever heard the saying, “Sharing is caring?” Well it’s true, when you share it shows you care. Sharing is fun and cool. Not sharing is bad and evil. Do you know what we call people who don’t share? Take a guess. Poopie pants? No. Meanies? No. People who don’t share are called, “assholes.” Can you say, “asshole?”

Very good!

Here in front of me I have a package of the new Betty Crocker Warm Delights Minis, that come with two 1.23-ounce bowls. They’re much smaller than the regular Betty Crocker Warm Delights.

Now boys and girls, because I have two bowls, can I share it with someone? Yes, I can share it with someone. Who should I share it with? It should be someone who deserves or needs it. A friend? Yes. A family member? Yes. An Olsen twin? Definitely. An entire Ethiopian village? Possibly. Women who walk out of Curves? Most definitely.

Now boys and girls, if you were to give a bowl of Better Crocker Warm Delights Minis to a woman who walked out of Curves after a workout, it wouldn’t affect her too much. It has only 150 calories per bowl, but don’t tell her that, because it’s more fun that way. Let the guilt spread and if they feel bad about it, they can conveniently turn around and walk back into Curves to burn it off.

It’s not evil, boys and girls. It would be evil if you gave her both bowls or if you gave her a bowl of each Warm Delights Minis flavor: Chocolate Raspberry Decadence, Molten Chocolate Cake, and Molten Caramel Cake. The important thing is that you shared it with her, and in return she’ll probably share something with you, like a dirty look or a peek at her leopard leotard covered body. Can you say “tacky?”

Great job!

A bowl of Warm Delights Minis is so easy to make that you could do it yourself without parental guidance, and if you understand measurements. Just empty the cake mix into the bowl and mix well with one tablespoon water plus one teaspoon water. Squeeze the topping pouch ten times, cut off corner of pouch, and squeeze four to six lines of the topping over the batter. Microwave uncovered on high for thirty seconds. Let stand for two minutes.

Now boys and girls, you know how the school bully uses their bad body odor and fat ass to overpower you for your lunch money? It’s sort of like how the raspberry topping for Chocolate Raspberry Decadence overpowers the chocolate cake, making it overly tart and a little too sweet. The chocolate topping with the Molten Chocolate Cake is like the shy kid in the back of the room who doesn’t like to stand out and is an average student. It didn’t really make the chocolatey cake any more chocolatey. As for the Molten Caramel Cake, it’s like a B-grade student, because they’re both good and have the potential to be really good, but for some reason they fall short. The cake in all three of them is light, fluffy, and chocolatey. Not bad for something made out of cake mix and a little water.

So remember boys and girls, sharing is caring, and if someone doesn’t want to share, you should call them an “asshole.” If they still won’t share, punch them in the face and say to them, “I just shared my fist with you.”

(Nutrition Facts - 1 bowl (varies per flavor) - 150 calories, 3.5 to 4.5 grams of fat, 1 to 2 grams of fat, 0.5 grams of trans fat, zero grams of cholesterol, 160 to 180 milligrams of sodium, 25 to 26 grams of carbs, one gram of fiber, 15 to 17 grams of sugar, two grams of protein, very little calcium, very little iron, and 50 grams of sharing.)

Item: Betty Crocker Warm Delights Minis
Price: FREE
Purchased at: Received from nice PR people
Rating: 3 out of 5
Pros: Quick and easy to make. Molten Caramel Cake was the best. 150 calories per bowl. Cake was light, fluffy, and chocolatey. Feeding dessert to women who walk out of Curves. Mini bowls cover my A cup titties well.
Cons: Raspberry topping overpowered the chocolate cake. Chocolate topping didn’t seem to add anything to the cake. Trans fat. Those who wear leopard leotards.

Kid Cuisine is the only nationally sold frozen dinner brand that is marketed towards, and most likely made by, latchkey children. It’s only fitting that a person like me with the attention span of a child would review one of its meals. You can never accuse Ace of not loving the kiddies.

Wait, that came out wrong. I meant to say that I love making young children happy…(fuck! Abort! Abort!). Damn it, you know what I mean.

Kid Cuisine was on ultra-clearance at the local supermarket. At about a third of their regular price, I couldn’t help but be curious enough to pick a few boxes up. Most people would see this as a bad sign of things to come, but not me. This is mainly because I’m an idiot, but I also had the thought that perhaps these meals were so good that it would be a crime to keep them on the shelves. I mean…the penguin looks like it’s having so much fun swinging on the jungle vine. Sure, it’s absurd, but is it any more ridiculous than a movie about surfing penguins? This is the stuff I think about as the meal heats up.

Hunger and low self-esteem are a great combination for frozen dinners, so I was actually anticipating its arrival out of the microwave. Unfortunately, the meal is not fantastic fare. Even as far as processed chicken nuggets go, these rank pretty low on the ladder. These are the chicken nuggets that other chicken nuggets beat up on the playground.

The fact that they feel the need to take on the form insects is obviously a case of severe overcompensation. By the time they come out of their microwave cocoon, they are dry and flavorless. I guess all is not bad, though. Mothers can find solace in the fact that the chicken is real “white chicken breast nuggets” and none of that filler crap. Never mind the fact that it’s shaped like a fucking butterfly — as all natural and wholesome foods are.

I would bet everything I own that there was a frozen food convention some years back where it was decided that macaroni and cheese had to be 95% water and 5% soggy mealworms. Kid Cuisine does their best to conform to the standards and offers up a meager helping of the orange and runny mess that they insist is pasta. Iron Chef Mario Batali must be rolling over in his grave. Well, he’s not actually dead yet, but judging from his expanding beltline I’m banking on this review being accurate within the next 10 years.

Kid Cuisine meals are never complete without one or two hilariously gimmicky ideas that are used to make the meal fun. Only Kid Cuisine can try and make ketchup cool, and they do their best by putting it in a sealed plastic pouch that is supposed to be used for nugget decoration. People…IT’S A FUCKING KETCHUP PACKET.

How they managed to pitch this idea as a selling point is beyond me, but I guess that’s why I’m not making six figures a year doing marketing. It’s almost as gimmicky as if they released Michael Jackson onto the reality show Kid Nation and let the pieces fall where they may. Along with the ketchup, some bug-shaped gummy snacks are included to ensure that the children learn how to ingest insects at an early age.

The best thing I can say about Kid Cuisine is that they appear to have good intentions. They keep me sane because they don’t spell their name Kid Kwizine. They have mazes and other games for kids on the boxes. Until their penguin becomes a sexually suggestive Bratz-like mascot, and you better believe this will happen, they deserve to be commended. Just not on their food.

Item: Kid Cuisine Bug Safari Nuggets
Price: 2 for $1.67
Purchased at: Stater Bros.
Rating: 2 out of 5
Pros: Kids will probably like it. Edible even though it’s not the greatest. Fun and wholesome mascot that apparently encourages dangerous physical activity.
Cons: Bland and dry nuggets. Passing off a ketchup packet as a cool treat. Encouraging children to eat insects. Michael Jackson on Kid Nation. Bratz.