Since I have the mind of a 12-year-old boy, it’s hard to not giggle at Dunkin’ Donuts’ new Smokehouse Sausage Breakfast sandwich because it has the words “smoke” and “sausage” in its name. It’s like when I see Mounds candy bars or Poppycock at the store.

Dunkin’ Donuts’ latest breakfast sandwich is made using a split Hillshire Farm Smoked Sausage link, a disc of scrambled eggs, and a slice of American cheese in between an English muffin.

The Dunkin’ Donuts Smokehouse Sausage Breakfast Sandwich has 550 calories, 320 calories from fat, 36 grams of fat, 13 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 245 milligrams of cholesterol, 1,510 milligrams of sodium, 36 grams of carbohydrates, 1 gram of fiber, 4 grams of sugar, and 21 grams of protein.

Now enjoy the Dunkin’ Donuts Smokehouse Sausage commercial, which may or may not be embedded below. If it isn’t click here to see it.

Source: Grub Grade

Before it was popular to make fried chicken filets into sandwich buns, but after it was popular to make pancakes into sandwich buns, Dunkin’ Donuts turned waffles into sandwich buns. While Dunkin’ Donuts’ original Waffle Breakfast Sandwich is gone, they’re bringing back waffles as buns with their new Blueberry Waffle Breakfast Sandwich.

The sandwich is constructed using two blueberry flavored waffles, a scrambled egg, a maple flavored sausage and a slice of American cheese. The only way it could be any better is if it was stuffed in between two pancakes, and then placed in between two fried chicken filets.

The Blueberry Waffle Sandwich has 550 calories, 350 calories from fat, 38 grams of fat, 13 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 235 milligrams of cholesterol, 1250 milligrams of sodium, 32 grams of carbohydrates, 1 gram of fiber, 9 grams of sugar, 20 grams of protein, 8% vitamin A, 20% calcium, and 15% iron.

Source: Grub Grade

For those of you who have busy Mondays, here’s a short review, in haiku form, of the Dunkin’ Donuts Stuffed Breadsticks:

Like bad Hot Pockets
Less filling, blander tasting
Same burns in my mouth

For those of you who are looking to waste some time on Monday, stick around for further elaboration (and rest assured that it will be elaborate).

I believe it was Tolstoy who once wrote, “Tasty fast food items are all alike; every crappy fast food item is crappy in its own way.” To this principle I must add a corollary which shall forevermore be known as the Stuffed Breadsticks Corollary: “…but some crappy fast food items are crappy IN EVERY WAY POSSIBLE.”

Dunkin’ Donuts is offering their newest concoction in two flavors, Pepperoni & Cheese and Cheeseburger. Both varieties of Stuffed Breadsticks had very little stuffing, and all the tiny chunks of meat had slid down to the bottom of the breadsticks by the time I started eating. To set up the second photo, I had to dig around the breadsticks with my fork like I was trying to reach the fruit at the bottom of a yogurt container.

I ate multiple bites of only bread before reaching any meat. The bread was tasteless, too chewy, weirdly pale where it hadn’t been toasted, and droopy to the point of shape-shifting. So it failed on the dimensions of taste, visual presentation, texture, and even shape, which hadn’t struck me as a significant feature of bread until just now. (Now that we’re heading off on a tangent, what would you say are the best and worst shaped breads? After careful consideration, I would nominate Challah bread as the best and – you guessed it – these breadsticks as the worst.)

Things didn’t get any better once I finally got to the stuffing. The Cheeseburger breadstick supposedly contained ground beef, cheese, and mustard, but all these ingredients were so bland that I couldn’t really taste anything. If I had to pick one taste sensation that I felt, I’d say there was a sort of sweetness to the filling. That doesn’t speak very well to Dunkin’ Donuts’ ability to recreate the taste of a cheeseburger; I’d estimate that I’ve said “Sweet, cheeseburgers!” (interjection to express excitement over anticipated cheeseburger consumption) roughly a million more times than I’ve said “sweet cheeseburgers” (descriptive phrase to communicate actual flavor of previously consumed cheeseburgers).

The Pepperoni & Cheese breadstick was definitely the better tasting of the two, but that’s about as much of an accomplishment as being the most useful poopy-flavored lollipop, or being the most entertaining re-appropriated Ben Stiller movie quote, or being the TIB writer who uses the fewest commas. The pepperoni pieces look and taste exactly like the meat in pepperoni Hot Pockets. They add a certain zest to the breadstick’s overall flavor, but the cheese and sauce contributed nothing to the eating experience except the burning destruction of my mouth.

Even the price was crappy. With each Stuffed Breadstick costing $1.79, two breadsticks and a small iced tea will run you over $5, which is enough to get you a much heartier and tastier combo from any number of fast food restaurants, Dunkin’ Donuts itself included.

In case I haven’t made myself clear yet, here’s another haiku to wrap things up:

These Dunkin’ Donuts
Breadsticks fail in taste, look, cost
DON’T GET THEM, EVER.

(Nutrition Facts – 1 stuffed breadstick – Pepperoni & Cheese – 210 calories, 7 grams of fat, 3 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 15 milligrams of cholesterol, 380 milligrams of sodium, 27 grams of carbohydrates, 1 gram of fiber, 2 grams of sugar, and 11 grams of protein. Cheeseburger – 200 calories, 6 grams of fat, 2.5 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 10 milligrams of cholesterol, 400 milligrams of sodium, 28 grams of carbohydrates, 1 gram of fiber, 2 grams of sugar, and 9 grams of protein.)

Item: Dunkin’ Donuts Stuffed Breadsticks (Pepperoni & Cheese and Cheeseburger)
Price: $1.79 each
Size: N/A
Purchased at: Dunkin Donuts
Rating: 1 out of 10 (Cheeseburger)
Rating: 3 out of 10 (Pepperoni & Cheese)
Pros: Pepperoni pieces were sort of tasty. Haikus. Challah bread. “Sweet, cheeseburgers!” as interjection.
Cons: Not much stuffing in either Stuffed Breadstick. Bread was bland. Cheeseburger stuffing was bland. Pepperoni & Cheese stuffing burned my mouth. Kind of pricey. “Sweet cheeseburgers” as descriptive phrase. Poopy-flavored lollipops.

Update: Click here to read our Dunkin’ Donuts Stuffed Breadsticks review

Hey look! Dunkin’ Donuts has come out with fancy, skinnier Hot Pockets.

Dunkin’ Donuts’ new Stuffed Breadsticks are part of DD’s Hearty Snacks line and come in two varieties: Cheeseburger and Pepperoni & Cheese. Both are made with pizza-style dough and are oven-toasted. The Pepperoni & Cheese Stuffed Breadsticks are filled with reduced fat pepperoni, pizza sauce, and low moisture part skim mozzarella cheese, while the Cheeseburger Stuffed Breadsticks have seasoned ground beef, fire roasted onions, pasteurized process swiss cheese, and a Dijon mustard mix. They’re available for the suggested retail price of $1.59 at participating Dunkin’ Donuts restaurants.

The Cheeseburger one has 200 calories, 6 grams of fat, 2.5 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 10 milligrams of cholesterol, 400 milligrams of sodium, 28 grams of carbohydrates, 1 gram of fiber, 2 grams of sugar, and 9 grams of protein. The Pepperoni & Cheese version has 210 calories, 7 grams of fat, 3 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 15 milligrams of cholesterol, 380 milligrams of sodium, 27 grams of carbohydrates, 1 gram of fiber, 2 grams of sugar, and 11 grams of protein.

Dunkin’ Donuts also started offering two new varieties of their Bagel Twists — Cheddar Cheese and Cinnamon Raisin — as part of their Hearty Snacks line. They have a suggested retail price of $1.39. They’re not getting much wordage because, to be honest, they sound significantly less awesome when compared with the Stuffed Breadsticks.

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.