Author: Jenna

REVIEW: Fanta What The Fanta Mystery Flavor

Jenna 26 Comments

Fanta What The Fanta Mystery Flavor Bottle

I should start off by explaining/apologizing for how, when I recently finished a thriller whose twist ending blew my mind, I was quickly informed by online reviews that I was the only person in the world who hadn’t seen it coming by the third page. Please bear that in mind when I tell you that I had no idea what to make of my first sip of Fanta’s What The Fanta Mystery Flavor. It smelled like Marshmallow Fruity Pebbles, looked like dishwasher detergent, and tasted like a sudden inability to remember a single other flavor to which I could compare it.

After a few addled attempts, I realized that it reminded me of Fresca, the zero-calorie drink known to me throughout my childhood as equally for its sparklingly synthetic taste as for its inexplicable presence at every gathering my dad’s side of the family ever held. Fresca was grapefruit-flavored, but I don’t think the same can be said of this blue beauty. I don’t drink much sugar-free soda, so that was just one of my few frames of reference for the bright, biting, and ever-so-uncannily artificial flavor that overwhelmed any other tastes I might detect here.

Still, “fruit of some sort” seemed like a promising start, and I kicked into detective mode to find more leads.

My first clue was a message on the bottle that read, appropriately, “Find Clues: #WhatTheFanta.” Attempting to follow those directions immediately led to me drowning in a sea of disgruntled Twitter users comparing this soda’s taste, with varying degrees of tact, to a rear end. (Fortunately, another recurring guess was the way more helpful — not to mention plausible — “orange creamsicle”).

Eventually, I made my way to Fanta.com, an oasis of information where, for the price of my email address and birthday, I was granted access to a secret world by way of QR code.

Spoilers ahead!

Fanta What The Fanta Mystery Flavor Glass

The QR code transports you to a mysterious website where you’re greeted by an array of images: first, there is just an innocuous blue Fanta bottle, which quickly reconfigures itself into an ice cream truck, a weird bluish blob that I initially parsed as an octopus but eventually realized was probably meant to be a stylized scoop of ice cream, an ice cream cone (okay, I thought I got it!!!), an ear of corn (never mind, I was confused again!!!), a carrot, a traffic cone, and finally some sort of reddish donkey-thing.

The three pieces of ice cream imagery and the two iconically orange items lend a lot of credence to the orange creamsicle theory, but I must admit I still have no idea how the corn or donkey play into it. I guess if the cerulean color for an ostensibly orange flavor is any indication, Fanta isn’t above throwing in a few red (or blue) herrings (or donkeys).

So, that’s the mystery of the flavor resolved (probably). What about the resolution of this review? Unfortunately, the tinny tang that comes along with the “zero sugar” label meant that I regrettably found the QR code caper more compelling than the actual beverage that inspired it. Drink this if you’re thirsty for a good case to crack, but perhaps not if you’re thirsty for a good soda.

Update: We also tried the Burger King Frozen What The Fanta! Click here to read our review.

Purchased Price: $2.19
Size: 20 oz
Purchased at: Wawa
Rating: 4 out of 10
Nutrition Facts: (1 bottle) 0 calories, 0 grams of fat, 65 milligrams of sodium, 0 grams of carbohydrates, 0 grams of sugar, and 0 grams of protein.

REVIEW: DiGiorno Fully Stuffed Crust Pizza

Jenna 7 Comments

DiGiorno Double Pepperoni Fully Stuffed Crust Pizza Box

Convenience, accessibility, price… there are so many reasons to love frozen pizza, and lots of people might also consider a crispy, cracker-like crust to be one of them. But buyer beware, that is not what you’ll get with DiGiorno’s new Fully Stuffed Crust.

DiGiorno Double Pepperoni Fully Stuffed Crust Pizza Frozen

I bought the Double Pepperoni variety, which, truthfully, I had cynically assumed was just a marketing gimmick to make run-of-the-mill pepperoni sound twice as exciting. I was pleased to realize that the name does, in fact, refer to two distinct types of pepperoni, “sliced” (the usual rounds) and “diced” (little chunks that reminded me of the julienne-cut Canadian bacon from Papa John’s Triple Bacon Pizza). If you prefer your pizza with an additional exciting adjective, you can also opt for Ultimate Three Meat.

DiGiorno Double Pepperoni Fully Stuffed Crust Pizza Cooked

I don’t think I need to dwell too long on the standard elements here: the cheese on top is mild and chewy, the pepperoni is greasy and aggressively meaty-tasting (I found the diced bits to be notably tender too, almost melt-in-your-mouth), the sparingly applied red sauce is flavorful if a bit watery, and the crust is yeasty and satisfying. My particular pie actually reminded me of Pizza Hut’s The Edge, with the toppings extending right to the end of every slice. I’m not sure if that’s a core part of the Fully Stuffed Crust brand or if I just got lucky, but either way, I’m happy! I sometimes find eating a dry, hard pizza crust a bit of a chore, but this was its own pleasure, reminiscent of focaccia bread, thick and luxurious.

Speaking of thick and luxurious, let’s get to the star of the show!

DiGiorno Double Pepperoni Fully Stuffed Crust Pizza Cheese

Unlike traditional stuffed crust, which merely crams cheese along the pie’s paltry perimeter, this ambitious new entry into the DiGiorno canon boasts, according to its box, “A FULL LAYER of cheese” on the inside. After some careful peeling (the pizza lent itself oddly well to being separated into layers), I can confirm that this is no joke! The inner cheese really does span the entire pizza, meting out an extra mound of mozzarella in every mouthful.

DiGiorno Double Pepperoni Fully Stuffed Crust Pizza Bite

This is where my warning about the lack of crispiness comes in: often frozen pizzas are so brittle they snap if you look at them wrong, but the bonus layer of cheese makes this whole shebang seriously smooth and supple. I’d even go as far as to call it “fluffy.” That being said, the fluffiness is buried under an avalanche of sauce, toppings, and surprisingly soft crust, all jostling for your taste buds’ attention, so “extra cheesiness” does not necessarily jump out as part of the flavor profile. During my aforementioned peeling experiment, I was able to isolate the inner cheese and enjoy its buttery, slightly sharp taste — and the very comforting joyfulness that stuffed crust inevitably induces in me — but it was still a little bland.

If you particularly appreciate a silky texture or are just a passionate pizza patron, I would fully recommend this Fully Stuffed Crust. If your primary concern is taste, the extra cheese layer might not be stuffed with enough bang for your buck.

Purchased Price: $10.49
Size: 31.2 oz
Purchased at: Target
Rating: 7 out 10
Nutrition Facts: (1/6 pizza) 370 calories, 19 grams of fat, 10 grams of saturated fat, 950 milligrams of sodium, 30 grams of carbohydrates, 3 grams of sugar, and 19 grams of protein.

REVIEW: Kellogg’s Frosted Flakes Cinnamon French Toast Cereal

Jenna 2 Comments

Kellogg s Frosted Flakes Cinnamon French Toast Cereal Box

Update: We also tried the Strawberry Milkshake version! Click here to read our review.

There’s something so important about this new Cinnamon French Toast flavor of Frosted Flakes that I have to establish it right off the bat: it smells unbelievably good. I would usually try to come up with an analogy to explain how this cereal is so magical that it’s probably what unicorns eat for brunch or something like that, but honestly, this scent doesn’t need a fantastical comparison. The smell is simply so extravagantly syrupy and sweet that I briefly forgot that I was just sitting in my kitchen with my face buried in a cardboard box. I felt like I ought to be tapping a maple tree in Willy Wonka’s chocolate factory (fine, I guess that’s a little fantastical). Suffice to say, the cereal’s taste had some big shoes to fill -— and it did.

Kellogg s Frosted Flakes Cinnamon French Toast Cereal Bowl

Like your everyday Frosted Flakes, the Cinnamon French Toast variety has that satisfyingly malty corn base… which is, who am I kidding, almost completely obscured by a blanket of way more important, intense, and absolutely-not-dentist-friendly sweetness. While the smell struck me as undeniably maple-like, the taste really delivered the cinnamon. These are probably just as sweet as normal Frosted Flakes, but the warm, zippy twist from the cinnamon made that sweetness feel more nuanced. I usually leave my bowl of Frosted Flakes feeling, guiltily, like a sugar-crazed kid, but this flavor seemed mellower—cozier.

Kellogg s Frosted Flakes Cinnamon French Toast Cereal Flake

Of course, no bowl of cereal is complete without adding milk (and I will fight anyone who says otherwise!). I was impressed by how well these flakes held up, remaining admirably crispy for long enough that I could savor their experience-enhancing crunch. Perhaps controversially, I actually do love soggy cereal, so I wasn’t too disappointed when I ended up accidentally spending so long trying to come up with another way to say “crispy” that the word no longer applied, but there is still just something special about a firm Frosted Flake. Interestingly, dampening the cereal seemed to make it taste more like it smelled, maybe because that cinnamon-y complexity was washed away in the river of milk, which of course, was then transformed into a delicious dessert drink unsurprisingly reminiscent of Cinnamon Toast Crunch’s “cinnamilk.”

The one thing that didn’t feel quite right about this cereal was the French toast moniker. After an intense bout of thinking and an ensuing Google rabbit hole (I look forward to regaling future breakfast companions with the knowledge that French toast can also be known as “poor knights” and “eggy bread”), I realized that that’s probably because, to me at least, French toast is such a textural sensation. A spongy bread square that’s crunchy on the outside yet moist and fluffy on the inside is not exactly an experience that translates to a bunch of thin, jagged shards of sugar-blasted corn, even if they do share some ingredients.

But you know what? It doesn’t really matter. I’d argue that the components in the name “Frosted Flakes Cinnamon French Toast” are listed in order of importance, and this flavor definitely delivers on the “frosted,” the “flakes,” and the “cinnamon.” Even if it doesn’t exactly bring “French toast” to the front of my mind, I highly recommend tearing yourself away from its delectable smell long enough to pour a bowl.

Purchased Price: $4.29
Size: 22 oz box (“Family Size”)
Purchased at: Target
Rating: 9 out of 10
Nutrition Facts: (1 cup – cereal only) 140 calories (200 with ¾ cup skim milk), 1 gram of fat, 0.5 grams of saturated fat, 180 milligrams of sodium, 32 grams of carbohydrates, 12 grams of sugar, and 2 grams of protein.

REVIEW: Sonic Sour Patch Kids Slush Float

Jenna 8 Comments

Sonic Sour Patch Kids Slush Float Whole

I had already slurped half of my Sonic Sour Patch Kids Slush Float through a straw before I started to wonder if I should be using a spoon instead, and that feeling of confusion perfectly sums up my experience with this new offering from Sonic. It can essentially be broken into three parts — the Sour Patch Kids, the slush, and the float — and they never quite work together.

The majority of this hard-to-describe dessert consists of the slush, which is watermelon-flavored and so sour that I’m glad that this isn’t a video review because the pucker it put on my face was not pretty! I was impressed with how smoothly it went down, though, appealingly liquid-y with gritty ice bits intermingled well enough to give it texture while avoiding the classic Slurpee problem of sucking out all the flavor syrup right away and then getting stranded with a plain cup of ice.

Sonic Sour Patch Kids Slush Float Spoon

The “float” part comes from the iceberg of vanilla soft serve that sits atop the slush, but I found the name a little misleading. One of the greatest pleasures of a traditional ice cream float is the way the scoops of hard ice cream melt to combine with the soda into a new substance, milky yet flavorful and somehow more than the sum of its parts. That’s what I hoped for here, but it just didn’t happen. The rich soft serve was so intimidatingly thick that not a drop could be sucked through the straw, and even as I lingered over the treat, it showed no signs of melting into something more mixable. With the unyielding ice cream trapping the slush below, I had to do some serious digging to capture both components in the same spoonful, and when I did, there was no harmonious mingling of flavors, just a cold, shockingly tart lump.

Sonic Sour Patch Kids Slush Float Lid

Of course, to complement the sourness of the slush, there are the Sour Patch Kids candy pieces themselves, but you’d be forgiven for missing them. Their signature “weird little gremlin-person” shape has been traded out for a form that looks more like Fruity Pebbles and doesn’t amount to much more than a colorful garnish. These flakes pretty much all either sat on top of the ice cream or sunk to the bottom of the slush, so they were mostly only present in my first and last sips/bites. But, to give credit where credit’s due, whenever I did encounter them, they were pleasantly chewy, never frozen stiff like I’d feared.

Sonic Sour Patch Kids Slush Float Sign

Though it had its tasty moments, my biggest problem with the Sour Patch Kids Slush Float is that it didn’t capture the versatile flavor profile so perfectly summed up by the Sour Patch Kids slogan, “First they’re sour. Then they’re sweet”. That rapid transition from intensity to relief works brilliantly in a candy where the sour coating can be sucked off to reveal the sweetness underneath, but the slush and the ice cream here never blended well enough to pull off such a trick. I kept wishing I was separately munching Sour Patch Kids candy, slurping a slushie, or licking vanilla ice cream because, like the naughty children in the Sour Patch Kids commercials, these ingredients just did not play well together.

Purchased Price: $2.99
Size: Medium
Rating: 5 out of 10
Nutrition Facts: 520 calories, 11 grams of fat, 7 grams of saturated fat, 200 milligrams of sodium, 106 grams of carbohydrates, 92 grams of sugar, and 3 grams of protein.

REVIEW: Honey Vanilla Cheerios Cereal

Jenna 4 Comments

Honey Vanilla Cheerios Cereal Box

I don’t know about you, but the name “honey vanilla” instantly calls to my mind some kind of skincare product; something sweet but not syrupy, understated and tasteful but with a hint of sumptuousness. The back of this Cheerios box, with its posh descriptors “rich,” “delightfully tempting,” and “O so joyful,” only made me more confident in this association.

Gingerly plucking a single glossy “O” before preparing my bowl (I may or may not have even felt elegant enough to do this with my pinky finger raised), the first thing I noticed was its sticky texture. Crisp and firm on the outside, this cereal glistened with a vanilla-glazed gleam. Upon my taste test, the solid interior gave way to its airy inside with a satisfying crunch. Eaten dry, the cereal tasted pleasant but not overly flavorful. It struck me as more or less just a milder version of the ubiquitous Honey Nut Cheerios, and I’m not sure I could have pinpointed which ingredients made it unique without the box’s helpful visual cues of a vanilla flower and generous honey swirl adorning the iconic heart-shaped bowl. It had a faint sweetness, but the foremost flavor was oat-y; it didn’t surprise me when I noticed the box also bore a proud (but perhaps unnecessarily capitalized) proclamation of “first ingredient WHOLE GRAIN OATS.”

Honey Vanilla Cheerios Cereal Bowl

Pouring milk over the cereal coaxed out more notes of both honey and vanilla, but it remained alluringly demure. Another word that kept springing to my mind was “mature.” I was introduced to a measured, subtle wave of sweetness, not the punch to the face of sugariness that I frankly often look for in my cereal choices. These Cheerios were also pretty quick to become mushy in the milk, and while I know that can be a controversial quality, I was personally a fan.

Honey Vanilla Cheerios Cereal Back

I’m a strong believer that the back of a cereal box should be given just as much consideration as the taste, and this one certainly fits the product’s “refined but slightly saccharine” aesthetic with its honey-and-vanilla-themed sudoku-esque visual puzzle. A high school classmate of mine infamous for his elaborate and uncomfortable outfits used to live by the motto “aesthetics over practicality,” and while our gym teachers disagreed, I think Honey Vanilla Cheerios would. This charming puzzle seemed kind of impossible to actually fill out since the six icons you’re tasked with drawing in the correct order are mostly differentiated by color, and I’m guessing most people don’t eat their cereal with neutral-toned crayons at the ready. But hey, still cute and classy!

Overall, Honey Vanilla Cheerios are plain but pleasing, an ideal breakfast for a day filled with agreeable-but-not-too-spirited activities like gracefully smelling a moderately-scented flower or playing a prim game of checkers where, win or lose, you’d never dare get in your opponent’s face about it. If the prospect of purchasing a cereal with a name that sounds straight out of Bath & Body Works excites you, these should suit you just fine.

Purchased Price: $3.00
Size: 14.3 oz box (“Large Size”)
Purchased at: Stop & Shop
Rating: 6 out 10
Nutrition Facts: (1 cup – cereal only) 140 calories (180 with 1/2 cup skim milk), 2 grams of fat, 0 grams of saturated fat, 170 milligrams of sodium, 29 grams of carbohydrates, 9 grams of sugar, and 4 grams of protein.