REVIEW: Cap’n Crunch’s Halloween Crunch

Cap'n Crunch's Halloween Crunch

The largest pumpkin ever grown weighed in at over 1,800 pounds.

There’s a popular theory you’ve probably heard, that humans only use 10 percent of our brains; and if we could only tap the remaining 90 percent, we could do all kinds of crazy shit with our minds, like start fires and levitate objects and figure out why some people find Fergie attractive.  In reality, it’s bogus- not the Fergie part (some people actually do… carnies, I suspect), but about the brain.  You use 100 percent of your brain, same as I do.

I bring it up because it means that if I’m using all of my brain, then every time I learn something new, I forget something I already know.  Don’t argue, that’s science.  And thanks to the random factoids from the back of Cap’n Crunch’s seasonal Halloween Crunch, which I’ll be sprinkling throughout this review — and because God knows my brain won’t jettison crucial information like the lyrics to Denver the Last Dinosaur, or the names of the ghosts from Pac-Man (Inky, Blinky, Pinky and Clyde, or Sue for Ms. Pac-Man) — I now don’t remember trigonometry, the date of the Gettysburg Address, or the middle names, technically, of both of my children.  (I want to say Alison and… John?  Wait, is one of them a boy?)

Jack O’ Lanterns originally consisted of candles placed in hollowed-out turnips to keep away ghosts and spirits.

But to business: Halloween Crunch.  The box depicts a cartoon jack o’ lantern with the Cap’n’s face carved into it, grinning like he just shivved a Soggy or has a girl waiting for him at the next port.  Actually, I have to give props to the design department… they didn’t half-ass it by slapping the word “Halloween!” over a regular box of Cap’n Crunch and calling it a day.  No, this is a full-assed production.  The font is a kind of eclectic, spooky-ish style, there are demonic-looking pumpkins and eyes all around, the coloring is black and dark green rather than the classic bright red.  Really, if not for the Cap’n’s distinct face, you could walk by this in a store without having any idea it was related to Cap’n Crunch.

Cap'n Crunch's Halloween Crunch Closeup

Speaking of which, I know a common complaint of Cap’n Crunch is that it cuts the roof of your mouth.  I guess what my dad told me growing up is true and I really AM tougher than everyone else, because I’ve never had that problem.  If you do, beware, because the main component of this seasonal variant remains “regular” Cap’n Crunch pieces.  They didn’t even change the color, which I would have liked, maybe shifting that classic yellow to a bright pumpkin orange.  But since they didn’t, the new pieces are what make the cereal Halloween-y.  These additions are pink, slightly larger than the classic pieces, and shaped vaguely like a ghost if you squint, in the same way that a Van Gogh painting of a flower looks like a flower.  Some of them are also covered in green speckles, which is almost certainly either mold or an intentional “slime” effect.  They’re shown that way on the box, so we’ll assume the latter and just hope the Ghostbusters aren’t feeling particularly litigious.

Seeds that are related to the pumpkin have been found in caves dating back over 7,000 years in Mexico.

But what are the new pieces like?  Well, I have this notion in my head that they taste a lot like crunchberries, but I can’t be sure because it’s been about two decades since I last had a crunchberry.  They have a tinge of that artificially-fruity-but-not-actually-anything-like-real-fruit flavor.  You know the one.  And really, it’s just a hint — they definitely don’t overpower the taste of the regular Cap’n Crunch pieces, which is good because frankly that taste is better.  Like me in a discussion of current events, the ghost pieces are amiable and pleasant enough without contributing anything of real substance.  When the nicest thing I can say about you is that you really do turn the milk green surprisingly quickly, you know you’re destined for the “novelty fad” pile.

I really don’t have much else to say about Halloween Crunch.  I’m glad I tried it as a lark, and if you’re a fan of regular Cap’n Crunch, you might as well give it a shot, since it’s fundamentally the same cereal with a cool-looking box and some vaguely fruity ghost pieces.  But it’s not going to give the Monster Cereals a run for their money, and the only real activity on the back is a template of the Cap’n’s grinning mug that you can use to carve a jack o’ lantern, in case you want your pumpkin looking like it just made a particularly timely “That’s what she said!” remark.  Plus the pieces of trivia, of course, but now you already know those.  You’re welcome!

Did you know that pumpkins are made up of around 90 percent water?

(Nutrition Facts — 3/4 cup — 100 calories, 15 calories from fat, 1.5 grams of total fat, 1 gram of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 0 milligrams of cholesterol, 190 milligrams of sodium, 50 milligrams of potassium, 22 grams of total carbohydrates, 1 gram of dietary fiber, 11 grams of sugars, 10 grams of other carbohydrate, and 1 gram of protein.)

Item: Cap’n Crunch’s Halloween Crunch
Price: $2.18
Size: 13 ounces
Purchased at: Walmart
Rating: 5 out of 10
Pros: Using 100 percent of your brain.  Bitchin’ box art.  Did not cut my mouth.  Still tastes as good as standard Cap’n Crunch, with only minor variation.  Turns milk green rapidly.  Stays crunchy for a while.
Cons: Mostly flash, little substance.  Fergie’s grille.  New pieces look more like alien blobs than ghosts.  Why would I want my jack o’ lantern giving Quaker free advertising?  Very little taste deviation from regular Cap’n Crunch.

REVIEW: Ben & Jerry’s Schweddy Balls

Ben & Jerry's Schweddy Balls

Hi, everyone.  I’m Drew, and you’re reading The Impulsive Buy.  Well, the holiday season is almost here, and if you’re not an avid Delicious Dish listener like me, you may have missed this tidbit: frequent guest Pete Schweddy has sold his Season’s Eatings bakery to ice cream chain Ben & Jerry’s.  This is good news for consumers nationwide who have long dreamed of enjoying those famous balls, but were prevented by distance from doing so.  Thankfully B&J’s didn’t leave us hanging, developing a new flavor that Mr. Schweddy has repeatedly expressed a desire to dip his balls into.  And now it’s finally ready to be thrust upon the general public.
 
Even so, don’t think it was easy.  Schweddy Balls was released over a month ago, but it proved surprisingly hard to find.  I had to visit a lot of places, some less savory than others; but finally my persistence paid off and I was able to get my hands on Schweddy Balls.  Let’s give it a once-over, shall we?

The first thing that jumps out at you about Schweddy Balls is the color — very, very white, with just a few visible black spots that might concern you at first.  No worries though, as closer inspection reveals them to be malt balls and fudge-covered rum balls.  Yes, that’s right: B&J’s subscribes to the notion that if one ball is good, two are clearly better. The texture, as you’d expect, is quite different between the two varieties.  The rum ones, though lent some firmness by the fudge, are still fairly soft and squishy.  In contrast, the malt balls are quite hard and (be warned) make a loud noise when chewed.  No lie, my wife was actively annoyed by how loudly I was crunching my balls next to her.
 

Ben & Jerry's Schweddy Balls Closeup

Noise aside, both kinds of balls are pleasing to the tongue, the fudge and rum melding into a nice richness and the malt balls being… well, basically just regular malt balls.  They’re smaller than you might’ve expected, perhaps due to the cold.  In addition, they’re spread quite liberally throughout the mixture, so if you were worried about there not being enough balls to go around, think again.
 
The other thing you’ll notice right away about Schweddy Balls is the smell — if you put your nose right up there, you can really detect the rum fragrance.  Unfortunately, that also leads me to the biggest problem: the aroma is far stronger than the taste.  Perhaps in fear of overwhelming their audience, B&J’s made the hint of rum much less than a hint.  It’s barely detectable on its own, so you’re essentially just eating vanilla ice cream with balls in it.  Plentiful balls, to be sure, but not so much so that you’ll have one in every bite.  Probably half of your spoonfuls will just be vanilla ice cream; and while B&J’s know how to make a decent vanilla, it still could’ve benefited from a fudge swirl or something to keep things interesting.  You have to feel bad for Pete Schweddy, with the entire weight of the dish resting on his balls.
 
I’d be remiss if I didn’t briefly mention the durability of Schweddy Balls.  This may be a non-factor for most of you, but I purchased a carton on my lunch break, stored it in the work freezer, and then took a 40-minute car ride to a van rental place, a 10-minute wait, a 5-minute drive to a furniture store, 10 minutes of loading a table and chairs into the van, and a 5-minute drive to my house before it saw the inside of a freezer again.  Yet when I opened the carton the next day, there were no signs it had melted even a little.  Give them credit, those balls held up remarkably well.
 
I really wanted to give this flavor a higher score, because of both the salacious name and those panties-in-a-bunch parent groups protesting it being in stores while their kids are home viewing the original sketch on Hulu.  But while I’d love to tell you there’s no beating these balls, that’s just not true — they can be beaten, and beaten soundly, by many of B&J’s other flavors.  Weighted against average, everyday ice cream, this holds up pretty well.  But we’ve come to expect a lot more from those gentlemen from Vermont, and unfortunately their Schweddy Balls just don’t quite measure up.  It’s not terrible, but with the exception of the titular item, is just somewhat underwhelming.
 
Mmmm, balls!

(Nutrition Facts — 1/2 cup — 270 calories, 140 calories from fat, 15 grams of total fat, 10 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 60 milligrams of cholesterol, 65 milligrams of sodium, 31 grams of total carbohydrates, less than 1 gram of dietary fiber, 26 grams of sugar, and 4 grams of protein.)

Other Ben & Jerry’s Schweddy Balls reviews:
Junk Food Guy
Foodette Reviews
On Second Scoop

Item: Ben & Jerry’s Schweddy Balls
Price: $3.39
Size: 1 pint
Purchased at: Wegman’s
Rating: 6 out of 10
Pros: Obscure “The State” references FTW.  The longer you search for Schweddy Balls, the more satisfying it is when you find it.  Carton references the “racy double entendres” of the original skit.  Plenty of balls to go around.  Plaid logo = nice little touch.  Rum/fudge balls are succulent and rich.  I got paid money to make fifty ball jokes — deal with it.
Cons: Malt balls make loud, annoying sound when chewed.  Kind of bland when you don’t get a ball in your mouth.  Doesn’t 26 grams of sugar just mean they dumped an entire jar of sugar in the carton?  Missed opportunity for “Waffle Coneheads” and “Chocolate Chip in a Box” cross-promotions.  Rum scent more powerful than rum flavor.  Ball jokes stopped being funny after the first three.

REVIEW: Wendy’s Dave’s Hot ‘N Juicy 1/4 lb. Single Cheeseburger

Wendy's Dave's Hot 'N Juicy Cheeseburger

Let’s start with the elephant in the room: naming a product “Dave’s Hot ‘N Juicy” anything is just asking for the more childish among us to snicker uncontrollably and make jokes about hot beef injections.  (Lest you think it’s just me, my wife – an actual woman with emotions and maturity and all that — was the one to bring it up.  So there.)  It’s the same reason seafood restaurants don’t advertise their moist, steamy clams that are easier to open with alcohol.  Just not a good idea.

Name aside, the Hot ‘N Juicy Burgers mark a major and apparently permanent change for Wendy’s.  We all know what to expect from fast food burgers, and being square doesn’t make theirs any different.  But now, someone has awoken the sleeping giant.  What, you ask?  Normally I wouldn’t bother, but you guys are awesome, so I undertook a Google search at great personal expense and wasted productivity, learning that the Hot ‘N Juicy Burger is apparently Wendy’s attempt to catch up with McDonald’s and Burger King and to stay ahead of emerging competitors like Five Guys.  They plan to accomplish this goal by beefing up (pun intended yet immediately regretted) the quality of their burgers with thicker patties, better toppings, and buttered, toasted buns.

Wendy's Dave's Hot 'N Juicy Cheeseburger Wrapper

Which is all well and good, but color me puce (the color of skepticism).  Talk is cheap, so I headed to my nearest Wendy’s and picked up one of their new burgers of the future.  I’m normally partial to bacon cheeseburgers, because it’s like saying to nature, “My hideous cravings cannot be satiated by the flesh of but one animal. Only multiple sacrifices will garner my favor.”  And anything that makes you feel like a Greek god without having to resort to infanticide or bestiality is a winner in my book.  But this time I chose to forgo the bacon because I couldn’t risk its presence artificially inflating the score.  Let’s face it: bacon makes everything better.  It’s the breast implants of the food world.  Ergo, if you choose to unleash its mighty power, you can probably bump up the score a point or two.

Wendy's Dave's Hot 'N Juicy Cheeseburger Innards 2

And the overall verdict is… well, I think the Hot ‘N Juicy Burger is better.  Understand that I usually order the 99 cent double stacks or junior bacon cheeseburgers, which have dulled my taste buds.  Buying one of those is like a tacit agreement between you and Wendy’s wherein they cut you a break on price, and you pretend your burger isn’t 65% sawdust and rat grundles.  This new offering is definitely better than those, but I don’t know how much better it is than the previous 1/4 lb. cheeseburger.  (Also: this is a tangent, but if it’s actually 1/4 lb., then “thicker patties” is a nonsensical claim.  I’m not an idiot, so don’t imply I’m getting more burger if the actual weight remains the same.  And if it’s greater than 1/4 lb., change the damn name.)

Still, it’s pretty good.  Not perfect, but the meat was flavorful, plentiful, and as the name suggests, fairly juicy.  (It was hot too, but I’d prefer to keep that between me and Dave, if you don’t mind.)  On the negative side, it didn’t taste any less greasy than their previous burgers.  You can see from the picture that the cheese is far more melted than they used to bother making it.  The bun definitely looks less smushed and tasted crispier than their prior offerings, no doubt due to the toasting, which is clearly evident in terms of a nice brown on both halves of the bun.  I couldn’t personally taste any butter, but I’ll take their word for it that it’s in there.  My overall impression was that this is indeed an improved burger, though not one you’ll be mistaking for a bar burger unless you’re actually IN a bar getting sloshed.

Wendy's Dave's Hot 'N Juicy Cheeseburger Innards

In the interest of total fairness, many of the upgrades Wendy’s is boasting about lie with the toppings: red onions instead of white; better, crinkled pickles; and whole-fat mayonnaise.  As has been well documented, I’m not a vegetables or extraneous toppings kind of guy, excepting meatstuffs of course.  Having opted for a plain cheeseburger, I can’t comment on whether the new and improved toppings make a big difference to the overall taste or not, but you might find that to be the case.

So with all these improvements, what’s the catch?  Well, Wendy’s has admitted that though franchisees set their own prices, the cost of a burger will probably rise slightly because of the higher-quality ingredients.  I don’t know what the price of a quarter pounder was at my local Wendy’s prior to the revamp, but I’ll offer that $4.09 for a fast food burger feels really steep.  My daughters shouldn’t both have to marry rich just so daddy can afford a better burger, and the guys at the drive-thru have stopped falling for my “I will gladly pay you Tuesday for a hamburger to-day” routine.

Ultimately, if you’ve never been a fan of fast food burgers before, the Hot ‘N Juicy Burger is unlikely to change your mind.  And the fact that it’s 520 calories with nothing but cheese on it is, well, not unexpected but still distressing.  But if you were okay with them before, you’re in for a treat, albeit one that may be coming out of your own wallet.

(Nutrition Facts – 1/4 lb.. cheeseburger with no toppings – 520 calories, 250 calories from fat, 27 grams of total fat, 14 grams of saturated fat, 1.5 grams of trans fat, 100 milligrams of cholesterol, 1,030 milligrams of sodium, 37 grams of carbohydrates, 2 grams of dietary fiber, 7 grams of sugars, 30 grams of protein.)

Other Wendy’s Hot ‘N Juicy reviews:
Grub Grade
An Immovable Feast

Item: Wendy’s Dave’s Hot ‘N Juicy 1/4 lb. Single Cheeseburger
Price: $4.09
Size: 1/4 lb.
Purchased at: Wendy’s
Rating: 7 out of 10
Pros: Keeping up with the Joneses.  Feeling like a Greek god.  Flavorful meat.  Melty cheese. Apparently better toppings.  Toastiest buns outside of Chippendale’s.  A really nice set of… bacon.
Cons: Pairing provocative adjectives with a dead guy’s name.  “Thicker patty” scam where the weight stays the same.  Rat grundles.  Hefty price.  Still pretty greasy. 

REVIEW: Jimmy Dean Jimmy D’s Breakfast Minis

Jimmy Dean Jimmy D's Breakfast Minis

Unlike a lot of products reviewed here on TIB, I don’t have a great deal of familiarity with Jimmy Dean.  I’m not one to drop names, but in my time I’ve rubbed elbows with some of the biggest names in the food world.  I’ve swapped drinks and stories with the Burger King, laughed it up with the Jolly Green Giant, stalked villagers with Count Chocula, and keep going back to that tramp Wendy.  (It’s always the redheads.)  And the less said about that bass fishing trip with Charlie Tuna, the better.

Yet for all that, Jimmy Dean and I have just never run in the same social circles.  The closest I’ve come to getting to know the guy is that maybe-fake customer service call that made the internet rounds a while ago, with the irate southerner complaining that the new, smaller sausage size wasn’t enough to feed his two fat sons and his fat daughter and his fat — sorry, “a little plump” — wife.  And that’s just not enough to establish a relationship, so I took a chance and brought home Jimmy Dean Jimmy D’s Breakfast Minis.

You didn’t misread that, by the way: the company name is Jimmy Dean and the product line is Jimmy D’s.  I’m going to give them a pass because we’ve all been in that place, be it college or prison or seminary, where you desperately try to reinvent yourself to seem cooler.  And even though it’s never worked for anyone in the history of ever, you can’t fault Jimmy D for trying.  If he thinks sounding more like a mobster than a farmer is the way to seem more butch, well, just keep those snickers to yourself, mister.

In all seriousness though, I’m told that the “Jimmy D’s” line is specifically marketed toward children.  You can understand my confusion since where I’m from, there are guaranteed to be a minimum of three guys named Jimmy D within any given town, at least two of whom will be in “sanitation” work.  Not exactly kid friendly, is what I’m saying.  This is compounded by the fact that the box contains none of the hallmarks of child-marketed products.  No cartoon character, no zany multicolored lettering, no coupon for a free carton of smokes… what kind of southern children are these being marketed to, anyway?  The only clue is that they’re minis, and really, it’s not like mini products have never been pitched to adults.  But since we’re on the subject of kids, remember when you were young and invited someone over to play, and they brought their absolute crappiest Transformers or G.I. Joes?  Likewise, Jimmy D has repaid my overtures of friendship with turkey sausage.  Not an auspicious start, JD…

Jimmy Dean Jimmy D's Breakfast Minis Closeup

Upon opening a package, you’ll find four shrink-wrapped sets of two minis each.  They’re not joking about the “mini” part either — these things are significantly smaller than a slider.  An exact measurement is impossible because the croissant halves aren’t uniform in size, but they’re roughly an inch and a half in diameter, with the sausage patties just slightly wider.  To be frank, they don’t look very appealing right out of the package, and that doesn’t completely change once you’ve zapped them for a minute or so.  But if the world revolved purely around looks rather than taste, half of us would be living under a bridge somewhere, so let’s delve into the meat (no pun intended) of the review.

My earlier crack about turkey sausage notwithstanding, I’ll happily admit that it’s actually pretty good, non-porcine though it may be.  It has a little bit of spice to it, which I like, but not enough to put off anyone of a more sensitive constitution, plus it’s pretty juicy.  As for the croissant halves, they’re surprisingly soft and flaky for frozen food.  You’re not going to mistake them for having just come out of a Parisian bakery, but let’s be honest: you’ve never been to a Parisian bakery.  You don’t know what you’d do if you ever found yourself in one.  Probably burp, say “merde” twice and fall down.

The only real complaint I have about Jimmy D’s Breakfast Minis lies with the aforementioned volume.  Four bites will put one of these things away, maybe six tops.  That’s okay for those of us accustomed to making do with a bowl of cereal at breakfast, but if the description of the person(s) you’re looking to feed with these includes any of the following adjectives — “hearty,” “solid,” “glandular,” or “600 pounds of man” — Jimmy D’s Breakfast Minis are not going to do it for you.  It’s hard to fault them for that because kids are the target market, but eff it — if they’re not going to put a maze or fun facts on the back, they have to accept that unwitting adults are going to buy a box and shouldn’t be made to feel stupid by their peers or spouses or food blog editors for one simple little mistake, okay?  Because really, we’ve all been there.  But for people of small to medium builds, these are a tasty semi-meal that’s quick to make, and the turkey sausage means they’re — I guess — a little better for you than pork sausage?  Hard to argue with that.  Enjoy!

(Nutrition facts — 1 package (two sandwiches) — 230 calories, 90 calories from fat, 10 grams of total fat, 4 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 30 milligrams of cholesterol, 440 milligrams of sodium, 25 grams of total carbohydrates, 1 gram of dietary fiber, 4 grams of sugars, and 11 grams of protein.)

Item: Jimmy Dean Jimmy D’s Breakfast Minis
Price: $4.79
Size: 8 sandwiches/12.8 ounces
Purchased at: Giant
Rating: 8 out of 10
Pros: The Burger King has some GREAT stories.  Rebranding your Texan country singer founder as a forgotten Sopranos character.  Tastes better than it looks.  Fairly flaky croissant.  Turkey sausage strongly reminiscent of actual sausage (good).  Really not that bad for you, comparatively.
Cons: Lack of visual appeal.  Small portions.  “Friends” who would bring over Wheelie or Snow Job.  Marketing to kids in ways that involve nothing that actually appeals to kids.  Some egg or cheese would’ve made these even better.  Parisian bakeries.

REVIEW: Triscuit Thin Crisps (Chile Pepper and Parmesan Garlic)

Triscuit Thin Crisps (Parmesan Garlic and Chile Pepper)

If you’re anything like me, people are constantly stopping you on the street to ask, “Drew, how do you choose what product you’re going to hilariously [they usually cough when they say that part] review in any given week?” (I’m assuming your name is Drew. If not, sorry, but that’s on your parents, not me.) Most of them are hoping the answer is something sexy like opening an envelope from Marvo that self-destructs after reading it, or picking a briefcase at random held by bikini models. But the truth is, what products we review are largely dictated by our circumstances. For instance Marvo, debonair man-about-town and walking STD factory that he is, reviews condoms. Kelley likes armed insurrection and mustachioed men who look like they might be named Sanchez, so she opts for survivalist food and Tapatio products.

And I, devoted family man and perpetual runner-up for the Whitest Man Alive award (stupid Wayne Brady), review crackers. I’m not complaining… it’s what we do here in the suburbs. Sometimes I’ll invite my honky friends over, put my 2.3 kids to bed, and break out the chablis and a cracker platter so we can sample a few new varieties (brie optional). Usually I’ll spring for some imports — Sweden has some wheat-based thins to die for — but this time I decided to stick closer to home. Pretty much exactly what you’d expect from a man whose proudest moment was the time he was in a 3-second audience reaction shot at a Jeffrey Ross special. (I’m the handsome one.)

Triscuit Thin Crisps aren’t an entirely new product, but they have new packaging that I’m guessing is just going to annoy the hell out of stockboys. They’re thicker at the top than at the bottom, thus leaving noticeable empty space between each package. It at least looks kind of cool, if you don’t think too hard about the fact that it means you’re getting less food for your money. Along with the packaging revamp comes a new flavor, Chile Pepper, which we’ll be looking at alongside preexisting variety Parmesan Garlic.

Triscuit Thin Crisps Chile Pepper

I was both enthused and apprehensive to try the new flavor because chile pepper and I are fairly recent acquaintances. The wife finally convinced me a few years ago to try pepper flakes on pizza, and to my great surprise I ended up liking them immensely. But I’m still a skeptic at heart when it comes to new stuff; and much like putting a strapless dress on a supermodel, what works on pizza isn’t always going to work on everything else. So I was happy to bite into my first Chile Pepper Thin Crisp and discover that I liked them. They have just a little bit of heat to them, which thanks to the triangular shape of the crisps kind of flattens out over your entire tongue. But to the disgust of Texans everywhere, the spicy flavor remains infuriatingly mild. If a Texan ever ate one, he would immediately complain that it must’ve been made by a Northerner, then probably mumble something about the Alamo or giant belt buckles or whatever.

The spice is also fairly short-lived in duration; I had two beverages nearby but never even thought about reaching for either, even right after the initial crunch of flavor. To put it in perspective, my almost 3-year-old ate two in rapid succession, then asked for another as a reward for using the potty. When your spice can’t even make a toddler blanch, it’s clear you’re not pursuing the eXtreme demographic. I’ll grant that some of the crackers seemed to carry more heat than others — I don’t know if that’s due to the residue on some of them flaking off, but you could easily get one that makes you check the box to make sure it’s not the plain variety, followed immediately by one that brings the heat rushing back. They also smell extremely good, with that familiar chili powder scent. I’d go so far as to say the smell might actually trump the taste, like coffee or scented candles.

Triscuit Thin Crisps Parmesan Garlic

And hey, you know what else smells good, he segued flawlessly? Garlic and parmesan cheese. This variety also emits a nice scent, though a bit subtler… you really have to get your nose in there and sniff. Go ahead, don’t be shy — grocery store managers like when you sample their wares so you can give informed feedback to other shoppers. And really, “subtler” is the perfect word to describe the Parmesan Garlic Thin Crisps in comparison to their (semi-)spicy brother. The garlic is present but doesn’t overwhelm, and that distinct parmesan flavor that New Jerseyans constantly taste even when we’re not eating anything is present and accounted for. That said, they’re not something I could see snacking on for the entire duration of a football game or a movie. If you’re looking for a flavor explosion, you’re likely to find Parmesan Garlic a bit bland, but cracker aficionados like myself can see past all that to the pleasant neutrality contained within.

And that’s your cracker review for today from CRKR — all crackers, all the time. Neither of these varieties completely knocked my socks off, but they’re both decent flavors that could stand a little more prominent flavor profiles, or maybe just to include a prize inside the box. They’re probably a lot better when paired with cheese, but taken on their own merits, Chile Pepper and Parmesan Garlic are pretty good if unspectacular crackers. Like my high school swim team.

(Nutrition Facts — 14 crackers — Parmesan Garlic – 130 calories, 40 calories from fat, 4.5 grams of total fat, 1 gram of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 2.5 grams of polyunsaturated fat, 1 gram of mono saturated fat, 0 milligrams of cholesterol, 160 milligrams of sodium, 120 milligrams of potassium, 20 grams of total carbohydrates, 3 grams of dietary fiber, less than 1 gram of sugars, and 3 grams of protein. Chile Pepper – 140 calories, 40 calories from fat, 4.5 grams of total fat, 0.5 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 2.5 grams of polyunsaturated fat, 1 gram of monounsaturated fat, 0 milligrams of cholesterol, 170 milligrams of sodium, 135 milligrams of potassium, 21 grams of total carbohydrates, 3 grams of dietary fiber, less than 1 gram of sugar, and 3 grams of protein.)

Item: Triscuit Thin Crisps (Chile Pepper and Parmesan Garlic)
Price: $2.99 each
Size: 7.6 oz
Purchased at: Wegman’s
Rating: 7 out of 10 (Chile Pepper)
Rating: 6 out of 10 (Parmesan Garlic)
Pros: Getting fellow reviewers on the FBI watch list. Pissing off stockboys. Both smell great, especially the Chile Pepper ones. Nice and crunchy. Pleasing aftertaste. Garlic and parmesan will always be a great flavor combo. Angering Texans.
Cons: Not being named Drew. Strapless dresses on those who… should not wear strapless dresses. 3-year-olds who laugh at your heat. Uneven spice distribution. Parmesan Garlic is good, but wears out its welcome quickly. No prize in the box. A bit dull.