This week, we let you know about a new sandwich from Carl’s Jr., a new limited edition flavor from Ben & Jerry’s, a beverage for the ladies and a new NyQuil. For our week in reviews we look back at reviews from Everyview, Grub Grade and Candy Blog. And we have a 60 second review about a pumpkin smoothie and I have boobs.
I am generally a fan of Kashi products — being a lazy pseudo-hipster who likes to buy overpriced food thatâ€™s touted as healthy without having to go through all of the effort of visiting hippie food stores and co-ops to make my own healthy food. Itâ€™s what I like to refer to as “The American Way.” And when it comes to frozen meals Iâ€™ve found that Kashi tends to be the Cadillac of the frozen food aisle. Or rather, should I say the electric Cadillac-hybrid with a solar powered espresso maker in the dash.
Kashiâ€™s Mayan Harvest Bake was really no exception. Perfect for autumn, the harvest bake (or, harvest microwave, technically) consisted of plantains, kale, sweet potatoes and black beans over a bed of Kashiâ€™s trademark 7 grain pilaf, polenta and amaranth — whatever the hell amaranth is — covered in a spicy Ancho sauce. Itâ€™s like, seriously Kashi? Sweet potatoes, plantains and black beans? (Oh my!) Those are only some of my favorite things in the food universe. The only way I could have been more content eating this meal would be if Kashi accompanied it with a warm towel and back rub.
Oh! Oh! Oh! And did I even mention the pumpkin seeds? The glorious, glorious pumpkin seeds? Indeed, the meal came with a generous portion of pumpkin seeds sprinkled on top, which I picked off and ate separately because I am what I like to call a â€œfood separatist.â€ Seriously though, name me another frozen meal out there that comes with actual pumpkin seeds. See? You canâ€™t even do it.
Lucky for food separatist me, the mish-mash of a food bowl was layered in such a way that I was able to eat the plantains, which were plump and delectable despite somehow coming from a tray out of the microwave, apart from the sweet potatoes, which were charred on the edges in such a way that I assume the product had once been, in fact, baked. The Ancho sauce complimented the meal well, which was sweet, spicy and delicious, although while the plantains and sweet potatoes were flavorful enough on their own, some of the parts on the pilaf underneath didnâ€™t get much sauce on it, making it taste a bit bland.
The Mayan Harvest Bake is one of Kashiâ€™s vegan meals, which means itâ€™s also ideal for lazy pseudo-hipster vegetarians. It’s also all natural, which means Kashi didnâ€™t want to make us have to pay another dollar for it by making it say “organic.” It’s really considerate of them, if you think about it. The Harvest Bake is also a nutritional smorgasbord, touting an impressive nine grams of protein (for something that doesn’t contain any meat), eight grams of fiber and 400 milligrams of potassium from the plantains, which is basically just a fancy way of saying “banana.”
Unfortunately, for the steep price tag of over $5.00 a box, regularly priced, it would probably be more cost-efficient to get your potassium intake the old fashioned way by just eating actual bananas.
(Nutrition Facts â€“ 10 ounces (1 package) â€“ 340 calories, 9 grams of fat, 1 gram of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 0 milligrams of cholesterol, 380 milligrams of sodium, 58 grams of carbohydrates, 8 gram of fiber, 19 grams of sugar, 9 grams of protein and 20% iron.)
Item: Kashi Mayan Harvest Bake Price: 2 for $6.00 (sale price) Size: 10 ounces Purchased at: Fresh Grocer Rating: 9 out of 10 Pros: Delicious. Sweet potatoes. Black beans. Fancy bananas. Pumpkin seeds, bitches. Cons: No warm towel or massage with meal. Goddamn expensive regularly priced. Not stocking up on more Mayan Harvest Bake while they were on sale.
The Wendy’s Double Bacon Deluxe is kind of humdrum.
Now don’t get me wrong, it’s frickin’ tasty and if I felt like I could survive another onslaught of 1,880 milligrams of sodium, I would consume another, but it doesn’t stand out or get me excited. Just like my inability to differentiate between all of the CSI and Law & Orders, I could easily get this burger confused with another.
The reason why is because it’s a classic burger with normal ingredients. It’s made up of two beef patties, a slice of American cheese, lettuce, tomatoes, a pickle, mayo, ketchup, and four strips of Applewood smoked bacon on a Kaiser bun.
As you can see, there aren’t any frills. No “secret sauce.” No flame-broiled beef patties. No beef from a magical cow. No F-list celebrity in a bikini eating it in a commercial. No fancy foreign bread with a hard-to-pronounce name.
Speaking of names, the name Double Bacon Deluxe is also unimaginative, forgettable and could easily be on the menu at some mediocre diner whose patrons consist of seedy characters. Couldn’t they have called it the Baconator 2?
But I guess its simplicity is what makes it good, since a “secret sauce” could easily fuck things up; the flame-broiling technique is probably patented; special beef would make it pricier; a commercial with an F-list celebrity would make Wendy’s founder Dave Thomas, who starred in many Wendy’s commercials, roll over in his grave; and fancy breads would make it seem douchey.
The Wendy’s Double Bacon Deluxe had a nice heft to it, thanks to the two square-ish beef patties. You can make it heftier by getting the triple version or lighter with the single version. What you decide depends on how hungry you are or how much you hate your body.
The bacon is supposed to be a “thick cut” of Applewood smoked bacon, and they were thicker than the others I’ve had on fast food burgers, but not by much. However, the bacon wasn’t chewy and it’s flavor was lot more noticeable than the others I’ve had. The beef patties were good and not as dry as some of the patties from the competition. The vegetables were crisp, the bun was soft and there were just the right amounts of mayo and ketchup to add some additional flavor, but not enough to overpower the beef and bacon, like they were condiment dominatrixes.
Overall, the Wendy’s Double Bacon Deluxe is a quality burger. It’s delish, but I don’t even think that’s enough to help me remember it in the future.
(Nutrition Facts – 1 burger – 860 calories, 50 grams of fat, 21 grams of saturated fat, 2.5 grams of trans fat, 200 milligrams of cholesterol, 1880 milligrams of sodium, 46 grams of carbohydrates, 2 grams of fiber, 11 grams of sugar, 56 grams of protein, 15% vitamin A, 20% vitamin C, 20% calcium and 40% iron.)
Item: Wendy’s Double Bacon Deluxe Price: $7.59 (combo) Size: 1 burger Purchased at: Wendy’s Rating: 7 out of 10 Pros: Tasty. Nice heft. Four strips of bacon. Crispy veggies. Soft bun. Just the right amounts of ketchup and mayo. Comes in also single and triple sizes. Cons: No frills. Kinda pricey. Almost 2,000 milligrams of sodium. Almost 1,000 calories. Has a name that’s easy to forget. Douchy fancy breads. The number of Law & Order and CSI spinoffs.
I could call many things in life delightful, but then I would sound like a snooty woman who comes from old money and has never worked a damn day in her life A crisp autumn breeze is delightful. A properly poured pint of Guinness is delightful. The chance for a certain baseball team to bring home the bacon two years in a row is delightful. But to call a granola bar delightful, thatâ€™s just pushing it.
I feel bad for granola bars, even though they’re the whores of the snack food world. All they want is to be loved and enjoyed; instead they’re used as substitutes for what we really want. People, including myself, generally have an “Eh, I guess Iâ€™ll have a granola bar to tie me over until I have REAL food” attitude when it comes to the slutty snack that prostitutes its way from childrenâ€™s lunch bags to the desk drawers of CEOs who had to abandon their three martini lunches because of the economy.
The Quaker True Delights Dark Chocolate Raspberry Almond Granola Bar is trying to be the Pretty Woman of the snack bar world. Dressed in its sexy black wrapper (a.k.a little black dress), it appears to be better than your run-of-the-mill granola bar that you can find slutting it up everywhere. My mother (and every “Very Special Episode” 1980â€™s sitcom) told me that the inside of a person, or in this case, a granola bar is what matters.
Well, I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but the inside is just like any other granola bar. However, I wouldnâ€™t totally dismiss it. This classy beauty wasnâ€™t like her co-worker, Quaker Chewy bar, because she didnâ€™t skimp on the good stuff like chocolate and nuts. In fact, she was chock full of nice semi-sweet dark chocolate chunks and crunchy almonds. Of course, the raspberry flavoring wasnâ€™t that strong, but if youâ€™ve read any of my reviews that include pseudo raspberry flavoring, Iâ€™m always bitching about that.
The bar was tasty, but you can find heartier granola bars, like the Nature Valley Trail Mix for less cash. Paying $3.49 for a box of five bars that each weigh a slim 1.2 ounces isnâ€™t worth it. Itâ€™s pretty bad when the picture on the box says “enlarged illustration” and even that isnâ€™t big. (Good thing they donâ€™t show “enlarged illustrations” on bottles of Viagra)
These petite bars are good, but one wonâ€™t even satisfy mediocre hunger pains that always hit at around three in the afternoon. So whatâ€™s the point of getting a high class hooker granola bar thatâ€™s more expensive when it wonâ€™t even curb your need for something to keep your stomach from growling to the beat of the next annoying Black Eyed Peas single?
Whereâ€™s the delight in that?
(Nutrition Facts – 1 bar – 140 calories, 4.5 grams of fat, 1.5 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 0 milligrams of cholesterol, 65 milligrams of sodium, 23 grams of carbohydrates, 3 grams of fiber, 8 grams of sugar, 2 grams of protein, 2% vitamin C and 4% iron.)
Item: Quaker True Delights Dark Chocolate Raspberry Almond Granola Bars Price: $3.49 Size: Box of 5 Purchased at: Giant Rating: 4 out of 10 Pros: Black wrapper adds a classy touch to a whorey snack. Dark chocolate tastes good. A lot of almonds. Adds more variety to the granola bar category. The Phillies. Cons: Having to settle for a granola bar. Small size. Lack of a strong raspberry taste. Using the word “delight” inappropriately.