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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

In theory, Dunkin’ Donuts Sausage Pancake Bites should be a guaranteed win.  What’s there to say?  It’s sausage links wrapped in pancakes with maple syrup added.  If our ancestors had invented these, we would today know very little about the extinct animal once called the “pig.” 

But Dunkin’ Donuts has let me down before.  Not with their pumpkin donuts, of course, those marvelous confections that let you know fall is here and it’s time to bust out the expandable pants.  But let’s be honest, those french toast twists were nothing to write home about.  So approaching this new treat, I was hopeful but cautious, like a shark stalking a seal that might actually be a fat surfer.  Turns out I needn’t have worried.

As you can see from this photograph expertly snapped in a parking lot next to the highway, the bites come wrapped in a paper sleeve of the sort you might use for a medium order of fries.  This is unfortunate because it highlights just how small each individual bite is.  The three you get don’t come close to filling up the bag, each being thicker than a cocktail weenie but not nearly as long as a “regular” sausage link.  A lesser man than I would make a joke about sausage size here, but really, that’s not what we’re here for.  Let’s just say they’re perfectly adequate, and besides no one notices that as long as they fill you up.  I mean, that’s what I’ve heard.  All kidding aside, I’m not a massive eater and one serving fell somewhere between a snack and a full meal for me, so take that into account and be prepared to order two if you’re really hungry.  Or decide you’re okay with feeling partially unsatisfied in exchange for a cheap(er) date.  $1.59 buys you 300 calories and no cuddling afterwards.

I had expected a strong smell of sausage from the little bastards, but surprisingly this wasn’t the case; the cornmeal forms an impenetrable force field locking in the scent of cooked meat.  It basically just smells like a corn muffin with a slight whiff of maple syrup — disappointing for the more carnivorous among us, but ideal for not drawing attention in a crowded elevator or for tricking a vegetarian into eating one.  That only holds true until you bite in, of course, at which point the meaty aroma is unlocked like a new character in Street Fighter.  By then you won’t care, though, because you’ll have a bite (a bite of a bite?) in your mouth.

And the verdict is… yeah, they’re pretty good.  The maple syrup taste is understated and so is the pancake, maybe to avoid overpowering the sausage, which to be fair IS cooked well and tastes delicious.  That said, I could’ve done with a little less stinginess on the syrup, maybe even — dare I say it? — a dipping cup.  It has the overall effect of making them seem more like corn muffin sausage bites than pancake sausage bites, which probably isn’t as marketable, so I guess they knew what they were doing with the name.  Really, though, the sausage taste dominates; everything else is just a slight hint on your taste buds, and like that – POOF.  Like Keyser Söze.

So they’re not quite the slam dunk they might initially appear to be, but I can still recommend the sausage pancake bites, and I’m not just saying that because the counter girl at my local DD once said I had really pretty eyes.  (I do, they offset my widow’s peak.)  As expected, the pancake side of things had to be downplayed because that would be just too much awesome for one dish, but they’re still tasty.  And while I’d stop short of calling three little mini-corndogs for a buck and a half a bargain, they won’t exactly break the bank either.  Except in your eventual gym membership fees if you routinely get two servings.

(Nutrition Facts – 3 pieces – 300 calories, 180 calories from fat, 20 grams of fat, 7 grams of saturated fat, 20 milligrams of cholesterol, 550 milligrams of sodium, 23 grams of carbohydrates, 1 gram of dietary fiber, 7 grams of sugar and 7 grams of protein.)

Other Dunkin’ Donuts Pancake Bites reviews:
Grub Grade

Item: Dunkin’ Donuts Sausage Pancake Bites
Price: $1.59 per serving; two for $3.00
Size: 3 bites per serving
Purchased at: Dunkin’ Donuts
Rating: 8 out of 10
Pros: Relatively inexpensive.  Tricking vegetarians.  Easy to eat while driving.  Tasty seal.
Cons: Syrup deficiency.  Olfactory deception.  No matter what your girlfriend told you, size matters.

Cookie Crisp has always had the potential to be THE GREATEST CEREAL THE WORLD HAS EVER KNOWN. All General Mills, the maker of Cookie Crisp, has to do to make this happen is to turn to the dark side, but they haven’t done it, yet, with their new Sprinkles Cookie Crisp Cereal.

When I say “dark side,” I’m not talking about the one filled with anger and hate that turned Anakin Skywalker into the heartless and powerful Darth Vader. Instead, I’m talking about the one that’s filled with greed and gluttony and has the ability to turn an ordinary couch potato into the heart-diseased and easily winded Girth Vider.

This dark side also has the ability to turn Trix into something you would want to eat with a condom on, preferably on your tongue, unless you pay extra to fuck it.

If General Mills did turn to the dark side and wanted Cookie Crisp to be THE GREATEST CEREAL THE WORLD HAS EVER KNOWN, the cereal would be made up of actual mini cookies, and none of these unsatisfying cookie-shaped pieces.

These cookies would be made with enough milk to make a cow’s udder spew dust, enough flour to make it look like one just came from a 1980s cocaine party, enough eggs to make PETA protest, enough butter to make Paula Deen weep, enough sugar to rot one’s teeth instantly and enough love to make one file a restraining order.

Unfortunately, the Sprinkles Cookie Crisp Cereal maintains the status quo with its vanilla-flavored cereal with colorful sprinkles on top. It has a flavor that’s similar to regular Cookie Crisp, except without the slight chocolate chip flavor, proving the sprinkles are just there to distract from the fact that the cereal has no personality, like silicone breast implants do for most female reality show contestants.

I prefer regular Cookie Crisp over Sprinkles Cookie Crisp, but that’s just me, because I tend to prefer chocolately cereals. So if Cookie Crisp decided to go to the dark side and sell a box that contains nothing but Mini Oreos or Mini Chips Ahoy, I would purchase that in a heartbeat and then wait for that heartbeat to quicken as I turn into Girth Vider.

(Nutrition Facts – 1/2 cup with skim milk – 140 calories, 1 gram of fat, less than 5 milligrams of cholesterol, 210 milligrams of sodium, 240 milligrams of potassium, 29 grams of carbohydrates, 16 grams of sugar, 12 grams of other carbohydrates, 5 grams of protein and a whole lot of vitamins and minerals.)

(Note: Here’s an old review I did for Peanut Butter Cookie Crisp. I’m not sure if it still exists.)

Item: Sprinkles Cookie Crisp Cereal
Price: $5.49
Size: 12.2 ounces
Purchased at: Foodland
Rating: 6 out of 10
Pros: Like regular Cookie Crisp, except without the light chocolate chip flavor. Sprinkles give the cereal some color. Going to the dark side, if you’re a cereal company. A cereal made up of Mini Oreos or Mini Chips Ahoy.
Cons: Not better than regular Cookie Crisp. Kind of boring. Not made up of actual cookies. Turning into Girth Vider. Going to the dark side, if you’re a Jedi. Most reality show contestants. Eating Trix that has turned to the dark side.

I am not a morning person.

I wish I could tell you that I wake up at the crack of dawn, quickly jump out of bed, and sing the praises of being the early bird that gets the worm, but I don’t. Instead, I get up when my alarm clock tells me to. But even when it tells me to, I violently hit its snooze button 3-5 times before slowly rolling out of bed. And there aren’t any praises in the morning, just slightly loud cursing and threats at the inanimate object that wakes me up every morning.

There are things I would wake up early for, like Saturday morning cartoons, Macy’s sales, and the opportunity to stick it to senior citizens by getting up before they do, being the first in line when McDonald’s opens their doors, and buying all the coffee. But something I would not get up early for is the Jimmy Dean Sausage and Cheese on a Croissant Breakfast Entree.

Look at that picture above. Would you want to get up for that? If I woke up next to that, I would roll onto my side, fall back asleep, and hog all of the blankets, letting it get cold.

The sausage and cheese croissant, which makes the Burger King Croissanwich look like filet mignon, is in the tray’s main compartment, seasoned hash browns are in the upper right, and diced apples are in the lower right. I felt the need to point out where the hash browns and diced apples are because they could easily be confused, like Gary Busey, Nick Nolte, and zombies.

Jimmy Dean is known for his sausage and in this entree his sausage was tasty, albeit small, but EVERYTHING else didn’t come close to the quality of Jimmy Dean’s sausage. The croissant, which are usually crispy and flaky, was tough, chewy, and nowhere near flaky; the apples tasted like apples and they had a slight crunch to them, but they weren’t sweet, which made them quite bland; and the hash browns were lightly seasoned, but not seasoned enough to make you forget how soggy they were.

If you thought all of that was disappointing, I shall continue the dismay by saying the Jimmy Dean Sausage and Cheese On A Croissant Breakfast Entree has 50% of your daily recommended allowance of saturated fat, 1050 milligrams of sodium, and three grams of trans fat. The amount of trans fat is the most disheartening because if KFC, whose middle name is Fried, can go trans fat free, why can’t Jimmy Dean?

Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to roll onto my side, fall asleep, and hog all of the blankets.

(Nutrition Facts – 1 entree – 560 calories, 30 grams of fat, 10 grams of saturated fat, 3 grams of trans fat, 35 milligrams of cholesterol, 1050 milligrams of sodium, 62 grams of carbs, 4 grams of dietary fiber, 21 grams of sugar, 11 grams of protein, 6% Vitamin A, 10% Calcium, and 15% Iron.)

Item: Jimmy Dean Sausage and Cheese On A Croissant Breakfast Entrees
Price: $4.79
Size: 7.6 ounces
Purchased at: Safeway
Rating: 3 out of 10
Pros: Sausage was tasty, but as for the rest of it not so much. It makes a Burger King Croissanwich look good. Contains all four major food groups.
Cons: Sausage was small. 3 grams of trans fat. Croissant was chewy and not flaky. High in sodium and saturated fat. Hash browns were soggy. Apples were bland. Gary Busey, Nick Nolte, and zombies

When I got the Nature’s Path Organic Frosted Strawberry Toaster Pastries, I thought it was going to be made out of organic hippietastic ingredients, like hemp, berries from some forest, pine cones stolen from a raccoon, tie-dye shirts, parts from a 1970s Volkswagon van, and Jerry Garcia’s beard trimmings. But then I realized that if it were truly hippietastic, it wouldn’t come packed in foil wrappers inside a cardboard box, it would be wrapped in leaves, sealed with homemade hemp rope, and delivered by some guy who says, “Hey, man” way too much.

Nature’s Path did a good job of making these organic toaster pastries look like the O.G. of toaster pastries — Pop-Tarts. As for its taste, if someone were to blindfold me, handcuff my hands behind the back of a chair, put a leather spiked leash around my neck, put a Frosted Strawberry Pop-Tart and a Nature’s Path Organic Frosted Strawberry Toaster Pastry in front me in their own doggie dishes, and then tell me I could try each one, only after I say, “May I please try it, Master,” I could definitely tell which one is which. The organic one is surprisingly very good and not as sweet as the original Pop-Tart version, which to me is a little too sweet.

The frosting had a nice crunch to it and the whole thing had a slight grainy texture, like there was with the Whole Grain Pop-Tarts I reviewed earlier, but I didn’t really mind that.

Eating these organic toaster pastries made me feel like I was eating healthy Pop-Tarts, and I wish I had some hippie friends I could share them with in a smoke-filled Volkswagon Bus, but I wondered if they were truly healthy. I compared the nutrition facts for these and the Frosted Strawberry Pop-Tarts and it turned out that they are about the same. Of course, the main difference between the two is the fact that the Nature’s Path one is organic, meaning that no synthetic pesticides, herbicides, and fertilizers were used in making its ingredients, which truly do give them a health advantage.

As with most organic products, there is a premium with them and these toaster pastries cost higher than their non-organic, big name counterpart. Each box also contains two less pastries than a regular Pop-Tarts box, which can be disappointing when I want to get my food glut on.

(Nutrition Facts – 1 pastry – 210 calories, 4 grams of fat, 2 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 0 milligrams of cholesterol, 140 milligrams of sodium, 40 grams of carbohydrates, 1 gram of dietary fiber, 19 grams of sugar, 3 grams of protein, 2% calcium, 8% iron, and 0 grams of hippiness.)

Item: Nature’s Path Organic Frosted Strawberry Toaster Pastries
Price: $3.99
Purchased at: Some natural food store
Rating: 8 out of 10
Pros: Surprisingly good. Organic. It’s frosted, bitches! Naturally flavored. Not overly sweet, like regular Pop-Tarts. Zero trans fat. Vegetarian. Not made out of hippietastic ingredients.
Cons: Slight grainy texture. Only six pastries, compared with Pop-Tarts, which have eight. Paying someone to call them “Master.”

I do not know if any of you noticed, but Honey Bunches of Oats is reproducing like rabbits and I bet people in China are pissed. While each couple in China can have only one child, an asexual semi-healthy cereal can have seven offspring, with the possibility of more. I bet you right now that Honey Bunches of Oats is off somewhere breeding. Its most recent spawn is the Honey Bunches of Oats with Real Chocolate Clusters.

With a plethora of Honey Bunches of Oats variations, I am wondering when it is going to stop popping out new flavors. Right now, there is Honey Bunches of Oats Honey Roasted, Honey Bunches of Oats with Almonds, Honey Bunches of Oats with Real Strawberries, Honey Bunches of Oats with Cinnamon Clusters, Honey Bunches of Oats with Real Peaches, Honey Bunches of Oats with Real Bananas, Honey Bunches of Oats with Vanilla Clusters and of course, Honey Bunches of Oats with Real Chocolate Clusters.

You know what? Maybe Honey Bunches of Oats is on welfare and its timing these births so that it doesn’t have to go off of welfare. Just keep reproducing and it can keep getting welfare. There is an endless amount of Honey Bunches of Oats possibilities, like Honey Bunches of Oats with Real Apples, Honey Bunches of Oats with Caramel Clusters, Honey Bunches of Oats with Real Starfruit or Honey Bunches of Oats with Orange Zest. If Honey Bunches of Oats is defrauding the government and stealing our tax dollars, I am going to get its tubes tied.

Or maybe Honey Bunches of Oats is a polygamist and part of the Fundamentalist Crunchy Cereal Church and it lives with all of its Honey Bunches of Oats wives in a secluded ranch in the middle of Texas. Oh, the inbreeding could lead to some fucked up offspring, like Honey Bunches of Oats with Bacon, Honey Bunches of Oats with Fluoride or Honey Bunches of Oats with Honey Bunches of Oats.

Anyway, I am exciting about Honey Bunches of Oats with Real Chocolate Clusters because it means we are one step closer to having Little Chocolate Donuts on our breakfast table. Fortunately, this cereal comes with real semi-sweet chocolate (with cocoa butter) and not that “chocolatey” bullshit, which is the equivalent of a Waikiki transvestite hooker — looks good on the outside, but do a little digging and you’ll have a bitter taste in your mouth. Unless a bitter taste in your mouth is something you are into and willing to pay extra for.

Like I wrote in the previous paragraph, this cereal has semi-sweet chocolate, which makes sense because having sweet chocolate would be retarded in a cereal that supposed to be healthy. Unfortunately, the semi-sweet chocolate clusters gives the cereal a really weak chocolate flavor and I was hoping that Barney Rubble would give me some his stolen Cocoa Pebbles to mix with this cereal.

Despite its weak chocolate flavor, I have to say that it is one of my favorite Honey Bunches of Oats variations. It has got the whole grain goodness for the adult in me, the chocolate goodness for the kid in me, and it allows me to buy a chocolate cereal that doesn’t make me look like a pathetic bachelor, puerile adult, or possible pedophile.

(Nutrition Facts – 3/4 cup – 120 calories, 2 grams of fat, 0 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 1 gram of monounsaturated fat, 0 milligrams of cholesterol, 150 milligrams of sodium, 65 milligrams of potassium, 25 grams of carbs, 2 grams of dietary fiber, 7 grams of sugar, 16 grams of other carbs, 2 grams of protein, a whole lot of vitamins and minerals, and 1 step closer to getting mini Hershey’s Kisses into a cereal.)

Item: Honey Bunches of Oats with Real Chocolate Clusters
Price: $4.00 (on sale – 14.5 ounces)
Purchased at: Safeway
Rating: 6 out of 10
Pros: Real chocolate in it. Clusters are crunchy. Honey Bunches of Oats. One step closer to having Little Chocolate Donuts. Vitamins and minerals.
Cons: Chocolate didn’t stand out. My excessive use of “Honey Bunches of Oats” in this review (to kill some time, count the number of times I used it). Honey Bunches of Oats with Fluoride. Chocolatey bullshit. Welfare fraud.