Update: Click here to read our McDonald’s McBites review

Sure, I can’t tell you what part of the chicken are in McDonald’s Chicken McNuggets, but even if I did know and it wasn’t the good parts, I’d still probably eat them by the McLoad because they’re McYummy in my McTummy and I adore McDonald’s Hot Mustard Sauce. However, the McDonald’s Chicken McBites, which are currently being tested in Detroit, might do what McDonald’s Chicken Selects couldn’t do, which is lure me away from McNuggets.

According to Burger Business, McDonald’s first introduced Chicken McBites in Australia. However, they are no longer selling them there, since it was a limited edition item. (Here’s a review of the Australian Chicken McBites). Those McBites were made out of 100 percent chicken breast-meat, had a Southern-style coating, didn’t come with a dipping sauce, and were similar in size with KFC’s Popcorn Chicken.

Burger Business goes on to report that the Chicken McBites in Detroit are being sold by weight. A 4-ounce serving goes for $1.99, 6 ounces cost $2.99, and a 12-ounce serving goes for $4.99.

Source: Burger Business

Now that’s what I’m talking about, bitches! And when I say, “bitches,” I mean Taco Bell.

According to a post at TIB’s plutonic friend, Grub Grade, Taco Bell is testing out in select markets the Doritos Locos Tacos, which is a taco made with a shell that basically a taco-shaped Doritos Nacho Cheese chip.

After doing a bit more digging, I came upon a YouTube video from July 2010 of someone trying the Doritos Locos Tacos. So Taco Bell has been testing it for a while. After doing more digging, it turns out the Doritos Locos Tacos come in regular and supreme versions, which retail for 99 cents and $1.29, respectively.

To be honest, this makes me a little happy because it’s something I always hoped Taco Bell would release. If the Doritos Locos Taco is rolled out nationally, my gut looks forward to it.

Source: Grub Grade and NeoGAF Forums

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.

I don’t enjoy Jack in the Box’s fries, because I find them to be sticks of golden brown boredom. My palate thinks they’re not salty enough, not potato-ey enough and they somehow make me cry, like I’m watching Toy Story 3.

When I do end up at the box Jack built, I always order the curly fries instead. But sometimes they mess up my order and I end up with their regular fries. When this happens I get extremely angry, and, I swear, when it happens again I’m going to buy a gigantic white plastic sphere; cut a hole in it; draw a mouth and angry eyes on it; glue on a pointy nose; put it over my head; walk into the Jack in the Box that messed up my order; ask for the manager; then demand they switch my regular fries for curly fries; and, if they don’t, I’m going to threaten to fire all of them.

Because I dislike Jack in the Box’s regular french fries, I wondered if they would be tolerable in the forms of Jack’s new Cheesy Fries and Chorizo Cheese Fries.

Both fry varieties consist of a small serving of Jack’s regular fries, which are topped with either a cheese sauce or a cheese sauce with crumbled chorizo sausage. Personally, I wish Jack in the Box called them “potato nachos,” but according to Urban Dictionary, the term has already been used in a different, and surprisingly, non-sexual way.

The Jack in the Box Cheesy Fries look like what I imagine my arteries would look like if I were able to turn them inside out after eating the Jack in the Box Cheesy Fries, while the Chorizo Cheese Fries look like a Frankenfood made by a drunk guy at one in the morning that combines the seasoned ground beef and cheese sauce from Taco Bell with Jack in the Box’s crappy regular fries.

The cheese sauce that’s dumped on top of the Cheesy Fries tastes like cheddar, and it surprisingly makes Jack’s fries a little more than tolerable. Although, I wish they were drowning in cheese sauce or at least waterboarded a few times with cheese sauce, because I believe Jack’s fries need to experience a cheesy death or, if waterboarded, near death.

But if you’re planning to experience either of these new fries, I’d suggest coughing up the extra scratch to pick up the Chorizo Cheese Fries. The slightly spicy flavor of the chorizo sausage is what makes these fries stand out. It’s like eating chili cheese fries, except greasier, however, with the same level of guilt. Just like with the Cheesy Fries, I wish there was a bit more cheese sauce, since the cheese flavor was a bit lacking, although not an amount that drowns or waterboards.

Since the Jack in the Box Cheesy Fries and Chorizo Cheese Fries are extremely messy if eaten the same way one eats regular fries, Jack conveniently provides forks. If they don’t provide utensils, might I suggest buying a gigantic white plastic sphere; cutting a hole in it; drawing a mouth and angry eyes on it; glueing on a pointy nose; putting it over your head; then walk into the Jack in the Box that didn’t give you forks; ask for the manager; demand they give you forks; and, if they don’t, threaten to fire all of them.

(Nutrition Facts – 1 Cheesy Fries – 504 calories, 262 calories from fat, 29 grams of fat, 7 grams of saturated fat, 23 milligrams of cholesterol, 1145 milligrams of sodium, 511 milligrams of potassium, 50 grams of carbohydrates, 3 grams of fiber, 2 grams of sugar and 11 grams of protein.)

Other Jack in the Box Cheesy Fries and Chorizo Cheese Fries reviews:
An Immovable Feast
Junk Food Betty

Item: Jack in the Box Cheesy Fries and Chorizo Cheese Fries
Price: $1.99 (Cheesy Fries)
Price: $2.69 (Chorizo Cheese Fries)
Size: ???
Purchased at: Jack in the Box
Rating: 6 out of 10 (Cheesy Fries)
Rating: 7 out of 10 (Chorizo Cheese Fries)
Pros: Both make Jack’s fries more than tolerable. Both need more cheese sauce. Chorizo Cheese Fries are really good. Spiciness of the chorizo sausage. Pretending to be Jack Box. Toy Story 3.
Cons: Jack in the Box fries. Chorizo makes Chorizo Cheese Fries a little too greasy. Jack in the Box messing up my order. Jack in the Box forgetting to give you utensils. Constructing a Jack Box head.

Of all the great rivalries we have in this country — Democrats vs. Republicans, Yankees vs. Red Sox, Edward vs. Jacob – there is only one that will truly last the test of time: Pie vs. Cake. Epic battles have been waged between these two desserts (I counted 120 on YouTube, alone), but it appears that this holiday season, McDonald’s has bravely attempted to bridge the gap, so that we may all bask in the glow of holiday togetherness. Behold, the Holiday Pie, a 250-Calorie hybrid for those who like a little pie in their cake and a little cake in their pie.

I bought mine for 69 cents PLUS tax, which is a travesty, considering they were sold for much less last year. It appears that McDonald’s may have come upon hard times and is scraping up every last nickel to spend on magical unicorn oil or whatever it is that they use to cook those awesome fries. Case in point, the McDonald’s where I purchased my Holiday Pie had been forced to hang old coffee cups from the ceiling as their Christmas decorations. Le sigh…

The presentation of this pie is a bit off-putting. First of all, there is a guy on the box who looks like he’s frantically trying to avoid having to kiss his amorous girlfriend who has most likely just polished off a limited -time-only McRib and now has killer onion breath. Second, the Holiday Pie is a “Special Order.” It says so on the sticker that someone lovingly placed on the box. How special? It’s special enough that it has sprinkles that remind no one of Christmas, Hanukkah, Kwanzaa, Ramadan or Boxing Day. Which holiday does this thing represent, exactly? Sugar Puff Glitter Ponies Remembrance Day? The man on the box seems to beg for answers through his twisted scowl. But there are none to be had.

A fairly sweet and crumbly “sugar cookie” crust encapsulates a nuclear yellow pudding, which tastes an awful lot like yellow cake. You’ll notice I put a space in between the words “yellow” and “cake” in order to differentiate between the tasty baked food and the uranium-derived powder used in nuclear reactors. Strange that they both produce the neon colors present in this menu item. Coincidence? Only Mr. Kissy-Face on the box may know for sure. Maybe his desperate expression is meant to be a warning.

The Holiday Pie isn’t terrible. It’s sweet without being too sugary, and it’s served warm without scalding your mouth (like their molten lava-style apple pie). On the downside, the texture of the crust is slightly silty… like fine sand. There is also a strange, chemical aftertaste that accompanies the pudding, which makes me think I’m going to go home later and suddenly develop super powers. I call dibs on X-ray vision!!!

What? I like to watch.

So, yeah, the Holiday Pie. I’m not hating it… but I’m not lovin’ it.

(Nutrition Facts – 1 pie – 260 calories, 120 calories from fat, 13 grams of fat, 7 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 0 milligrams of cholesterol, 150 milligrams of sodium, 30 grams of total carbohydrates, 12 grams of sugar, 3 grams of protein, and a single, solitary gram of dietary fiber)

Item: McDonald’s Holiday Pie

Price: 69 cents
Size: 1 pie (2.7 oz)

Purchased at: McDonald’s

Rating: 5 out of 10
Pros: Pie/Cake hybrid, sweet & warm, 69 cents, Glitter Ponies, Special Order, The Holidays, super powers.
Cons: Possible nuclear components, 69 cents plus tax, onion breath, inexplicable sprinkles.

Ah, Cinnabon. You are the destroyer of diets, the widener of waistlines. You ought to be the adversary of ample alliterators like myself, and yet I have never gained an ounce of weight from your baked goods.

This is because I only eat Cinnabon in airports, and as everyone knows, airport calories don’t count. You get so stressed out from traveling and you have to burn so much extra energy to stop yourself from screaming at the little boy kicking your seat the entire flight that your body allows you to eat whatever you want, and everything still comes out even in the end. Airport calories are close relatives of “It’s finals week and I’ve done no reading all semester” calories, “I’m still at the office way past midnight” calories, and “I just had a breakup and have to eat my feelings” calories. Obviously, none of these calories should be held against you. This was all a very convoluted way of saying thank goodness I had to go to an airport this Thanksgiving break. Otherwise, we’d have no review of the Cinnabon Pecanbon Center of the Roll.
 
Cinnabon offers its new Center of the Roll (CotR from now on) in both classic and Pecanbon varieties, with pecans and caramel added to the latter. Given that the company website describes the CotR as just “the ooey, gooey middle” of a Classic Roll, I had been expecting something the size and shape of a Minibon but with a gooier texture. What I got was… well, it was sort of hard to say what I got at first, as everything had been placed in a big cup and drenched in cream cheese frosting. It seems like they split up the inner layers of a Classic Roll, cut the layers into slightly smaller chunks, and just put a handful of chunks into each cup. The separated nature of the CotR allows the cream cheese frosting to drip naturally through the cracks and get on each individual piece, sparing the eater of having to make the difficult decision of whether to ration the frosting on top or splurge on the extra cup of frosting. (Hint: in that situation, always go with the extra cup. It’s only 99 cents more, and you’re already eating a Cinnabon. As the proverb goes, “in for a penny, in for a pound.”)
 
And yes, the CotR actually does seem to be from the center of the roll.  At the very least, the pieces are too soft to be from the outside of the roll, and the sponginess of the chunks plays really well with the crunchiness of the pecans. The caramel, however, was rather disappointing. There was enough caramel to change the color of the frosting noticeably, yet I could barely catch any hint of its flavor. Upon further review, I suppose it’s not the caramel’s fault. My expectations of its effect were just unrealistic, and the Cinnabon product designer’s intentions are unclear. The cream cheese frosting is so tasty because it adds a tartness that melds with and subdues what is otherwise an onslaught of total sweetness. Caramel is by definition just melted sugar, so to expect it to stand out would be plain silly. The Superman that is the frosting already has super-speed/sugar; why would you bother inviting caramel-as-The Flash to join the Cinnabon’s Justice League? Wow, that analogy was much less terrible in my head, but at least now you can check “comic book reference” off your TIB Bingo Card.
 
All things considered, I really enjoyed the Pecanbon Center of the Roll, and I appreciate Cinnabon’s efforts to introduce new items without straying too far from their core products. If you’re a Cinnabon fan to begin with, make sure to try one the next time you’re at an airport. Even if your body doesn’t believe in the airport calorie theory, I’m sure it’ll agree that “What that TSA agent just did to me might mean we’re married in some religions and I really need to eat something” calories should get a free pass.
 
(Nutrition Facts – Not available on website)

Item: Cinnabon Pecanbon Center of the Roll
Price: $3.49
Size: one cup
Purchased at: Cinnabon (in an airport)
Rating: 8 out of 10
Pros: Frosting on every piece. Gooier than regular whole Cinnabon. Crunchiness of the pecans. Alliteration. Airport calories not counting. Always getting the extra cup of frosting. TIB Bingo.
Cons: Caramel is unnecessary. Airport calories might actually count. Analogies that seem better in your head. New TSA regulations.