REVIEW: Nabisco Chewy Chips Ahoy! Root Beer Float Ice Cream Creations

Nabisco Chewy Chips Ahoy Root Beer Float Ice Cream Creations

Dear Nabisco and Parent Company Mondelez International,

We here at the Mayo Clinic have been furthering medical science and treating patients for the past 150 years. Our progress through research and education are unparalleled, and our hospital and medical specialties have been consistently lauded and ranked amongst the best healthcare organizations by third party publications. Which is why we are proposing a residency for the scientist who came up with the “Chewy Chips Ahoy! Ice Cream Creations Root Beer Float.” Now, this is a strange request, you may be saying to yourself. Please, first let us tell you what we think of the cookie.

We think it’s wonderful. When the seal is torn off the light blue packaging, a root beer breeze wafts from the tray. It serves as a time machine to the first time in our childhood we had a root beer (or at least the first time we had a root beer-flavored Jelly Belly). The nostalgia extends to the actual taste too, as it resembles something that of a softer, sweeter root beer, such as Mug. There is even a little tingle in the throat as you have obviously harnessed some sort of earthy extract to poke at our uvulas.

The star is the root beer flavor, but the white-colored, vanilla-tasting chips do a great job of being cool and mild, balancing the overall flavor out as well as completing the experience that is “root beer float.” And what look like regular chocolate chips are actually root beer-flavored chips. They add a nice dimension to the texture and burst of root beer taste when each fake chocolate chip pocket is breached. The flavors and texture are probably more balanced and consistent than an actual root beer float, which can be just mouthfuls of either only ice cream or only soda and overall a wet affair.

Nabisco Chewy Chips Ahoy Root Beer Float Ice Cream Creations Closeup

The cookie texture you have down—you guys are obviously pros and have been perfecting the chewiness for going on thirty years now since the introduction of Chewy Chips Ahoy! cookies. We know it’s a trick, but they’re as soft as warm cookies straight out of the oven. It’s insane. There are a few qualms we have, such as testing our resolve with making such an easy-to-eat cookie. (Question: Why was the doctor jittery and restless? Answer: She didn’t have any patience/patients!). But also, while the root beer flavor is exquisite, it doesn’t come with the carbonation or the mouth feel of a real root beer, and our brains keep telling us this is not real. It makes the experience a bit chemically, but we think that is out of your hands, Nabisco.

Nabisco Chewy Chips Ahoy Root Beer Float Ice Cream Creations Cookie

The distribution of chips is also a bit uneven. While no cookie in the bag was bad (yes we ate the whole bag—with some tea in the break room), some cookies are chock full of the sweet morsels and the experience between an average one and an above average one is discernible. Lastly, get rid of the packaging. The bright, electric blue doesn’t make us hungry for cookies. Stick with earth tones please. (Question: Why was the doctor jittery and restless? Answer: She just worked a double shift and a guy died!)

Whoever came up with this idea and executed it was an outside thinker. He or she looked to the future while being informed by the past and that kind of thing is exactly what we want on Team Healthcare, so we would love to offer him or her a position on our team.

“But cookies aren’t saving lives,” you say. Well to that we respond, did you think a ragtag team of oil drillers couldn’t save our planet from an oncoming asteroid? Stop being so closed-minded, because I don’t want to miss a thang. “It wasn’t even one person,” you say, “It was a team of marketing people and a food scientist.” Nabisco, we are the Mayo Clinic. We can do things. Have you ever seen that movie the Fly? We can smush your team of marketers and one food scientist into a single mutant monstrosity that collects one paycheck from us. Don’t worry about it.

Just send everyone involved with this project over. And while you’re at it, send over a box of Triscuits. Send ten. Or we’ll release the airborne genital warts. “Airborne genital warts?” you ask. You know what? You’re going down, Nabisco. Consider this a warning shot. The Mayo Clinic now officially backs cookie mogul the Girl Scouts. (Question: Why was the doctor jittery and restless? Answer: She just stole some Ritalin to self-medicate but hasn’t taken it yet.)

Cordially yours,

The Mayo Clinic

Rochester, Minnesota

(Nutrition Facts – 140 calories, 60 calories from fat, 6 grams of fat, 3.5 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 0 milligrams of cholesterol, 95 milligrams of sodium, 20 milligrams of potassium, 20 grams of carbohydrates, 0 grams of fiber, 12 grams of sugar, and less than 1 gram of protein.)

Item: Nabisco Chewy Chips Ahoy! Root Beer Float Ice Cream Creations
Purchased Price: $2.99 (on sale)
Size: 9.5 oz.
Purchased at: D’Agostinos
Rating: 9 out of 10
Pros: Chewy. Root beer-y. Easy to eat—less wet, sticky than actual root beer float. Chips give good balance to cookie. Goes wonderfully with tea or coffee.
Cons: Ate a whole bag in two sittings. (Liar) One sitting. Some cookies are better than others. Could be chemically off putting to some. /p>

REVIEW: Subway Fritos Chicken Enchilada Melt

Subway Fritos Chicken Enchilada Melt 1

We live in an interconnected world. Elvis walked into the White House and shook Nixon’s hand. Abbott and Costello met Frankenstein. Steve Urkel annoyed both Uncle Jesse and Patrick Duffy. I once sat in a Ford Explorer with Eddie Bauer logos on it. We’re all star stuff, guys. It’s exciting.

When titans meet, it’s a reminder that we’re all on the same team, that we all indeed occupy the same universe. Tommy Lee Jones was Al Gore’s college dorm mate, y’all. Betty Crocker uses Hershey chocolate in its mixes! The Justice League fought the Avengers. Doritos Locos Tacos!

So when Subway unveiled its Fritos Chicken Enchilada Melt, I was eager to get one in my maw. I mean, I had already been manually putting chips on my sandwich for years. Wait. Sorry. We’ve already been manually putting chips on our sandwiches for years. (Right? Right?! High fives all around.) Now two giant corporations are joining forces to put chips on a sandwich.

They have research teams and focus groups and everything. This thing should be a masterpiece. I bought a lobster bib and scratched out the picture of a lobster and replaced it with a drawing of a smiling lobster eating a sandwich with chips on it. I’m ready. I’m cheering in my seat.

Subway Fritos Chicken Enchilada Melt 5

Unfortunately, I am loath to report that Subway and Frito-Lay came together and birthed the half-breed antichrist of sandwiches. It gurgled and writhed in pain and asked me to put it out of its misery, and after I ate it, I asked the same of myself.

The tragic journey begins in the Subway assembly line. “I want to make it look like the poster,” I say. The sandwich artist grumbles something incoherent and conjures a foot-long flatbread from the ether. The chicken comes pre-sauced and looks all wet. Two (2!) small bags of Fritos are dumped onto the sandwich. “Whoa, I’ve never seen that before,” cries out the guy behind me in line. Lettuce, tomatoes, onions, and pickles are the ingredients I saw on the poster, so that’s what I get.

Subway Fritos Chicken Enchilada Melt 4

The Fritos Chicken Enchilada Melt looks weak. The flatbread gives it a limp disposition, and it’s wider than the regular loaves, so the ingredients look scattered like they were dumped into the bottom of a garbage can. Taking the first bite, though, is not bad. The flatbread is chewy and floury like a pita. Going forward, however, the hot part of the sandwich has warmed over the should-be-cold lettuce and tomato (Gross!). The slightly sour pickles tasted out of place in what is, I guess, a Subway version of a soft taco.

The barely spicy enchilada sauce on the chicken has rendered the chicken tasteless—the protein is purely there for texture. Worst of all, the Fritos have strangely become soggy in the five-minute journey from bag to sandwich to mouth. It kind of tastes like if you crushed up a Double Decker Taco Supreme (with chicken, hold the sour cream) into a sandwich bag and then left it in the sun for an hour. The sickly nuclear warmth of the concoction stuck to my stomach for a good 45 minutes.

Subway Fritos Chicken Enchilada Melt 3

Elvis died on a toilet and Nixon had to resign from being president. Frankenstein has to be depicted in I, Frankenstein. Steve Urkel never worked again. Eddie Bauer filed for bankruptcy. Titans meet but sometimes the story doesn’t always have a happy ending. Sometimes it’s more like when Freddy meets Jason or when Alien fights Predator, or like whenever they try to make a movie with Owen Wilson and Vince Vaughn. Sometimes it just ruins chips on a sandwich.

(Nutrition Facts – 6 inch sandwich – 580 calories, 240 calories from fat, 26 grams of fat, 7 grams of saturated fat, 20 milligrams of cholesterol, 1170 milligrams of sodium, 60 grams of carbohydrates, 7 grams of fiber, 9 grams of sugar, 25 grams of protein.)

Item: Subway Fritos Chicken Enchilada Melt
Purchased Price: $6.50
Size: Footlong
Purchased at: Subway
Rating: 2 out of 10
Pros: Flatbread was flat, chewy.
Cons: Fritos do not stand up well to sauce. Pre-sauced meats at Subway are all gross. Cold parts of sandwich were warm. Badly constructed, looks like a mess.

REVIEW: Crest Be Adventurous Mint Chocolate Trek Toothpaste

Crest Be Adventurous Mint Chocolate Trek Toothpaste

Hey, partner! Are you ready for an adventure? Let’s go! Jump on the back of this train! Shhh, we’re stowaways! Avoid the lions! Climb a mountain! Keep hydrated! Crack a whip! Look, our trusty sidekick Short Round is here! (Holy Moly! Hi, it’s me!) Down the waterfall! Oh no, snakes! We hate snakes. We’re at the secret cave! The treasure is behind this rock. Let’s push it! Help us out, Short Round! (Okie!) Whoa! The treasure is … a tube of toothpaste! The treasure is a tube of toothpaste? The treasure is a tube of toothpaste.

Oh hell no. (My teeth clean already! How ‘bout yours?)

This is the “adventure”? (Look! It’s mint chocolate!) Hmmm. All right, Crest Be Adventurous Mint Chocolate Trek. Chocolate toothpaste is maybe a little bit of an adventure if you squint. Let’s check this toothpaste out.

The first question is: Who is this for? The packaging is crafted, muted, and detailed. The colors used are tasteful. Adventurous is one of three in the Crest Be line of toothpastes. The others are Inspired and Dynamic. These aren’t child words. I suppose you don’t want to confuse kids by throwing them into the deep end of mint chocolate toothpaste, lest end up having them cake their teeth with Nutella before bed and thinking that’s hygiene when the babysitter is on watch. Crest Be Adventurous Mint Chocolate Trek is for adults. Adults who know about toothpaste rules and want to deny toothpaste rules. It’s a way to start your day or your night with a kick of fake “rebellion.”

Crest Be Adventurous Mint Chocolate Trek Toothpaste Closeup

It looks like mint chocolate chip ice cream, with a light green base specked with bits of brown. (Tastes like ice cream too!) Oh, Short Round is still here. Yes, it tastes a little bit like it too, at least like the mass produced Baskin-Robbins version of the flavor. Maybe that says more about the state of ice cream than it does this toothpaste. But most of all it smells like it. It smells like what mint chocolate chip ice cream smells like in my memory, like some Willy Wonka monstrosity. Oh, here come the Oompa Loompas. They’re carrying away Short Round. Strange…he’s going willingly. (Bye bye!) Okay, have fun, kid.

It’s not that bad tasting. The toothpaste is a cool mint, less sharp than other mentholated toothpastes. This is probably for the ability to showcase the hint of chocolate, which can be compared to the dulled chocolate taste of an Oreo wafer. Actually, the entire brushing experience can be sort of compared to grinding up a bunch of holiday Oreos and sticking them in your mouth and then spitting them back out.

It does feel a little strange/exciting to smear what tastes like chocolate all over my teeth. The weirdest part is the cognitive dissonance. My instincts say to consume some cookies, but my brain reminds me to eject it, resulting in feeling both teased and unsatisfied. A little bit like cookies ‘n cream methadone. The chocolate taste pairs pretty well with the mint, dissipating quickly, and less than five minutes after brushing, the mouth feels like it was brushed with any ol’ mint toothpaste.

Crest Be Adventurous Mint Chocolate Trek Toothpaste Box

It costs almost six bucks for a smallish tube, which is not a lot if you consider it an “adventure” as Crest does. (I do not!) Short Round is back! What’s up, dude? (I stab orange boy and he just lay there. I cut green hair off and make wig!) Oh, you did. We’ll have to dump that body later. Did you try the toothpaste, Short Round? (Oh yeah!) What did you think? (Taste okay but seems silly. You want chocolate, eat chocolate. Don’t be stupid. Novelty is novelty!)

Sounds about right. (Real “adventure.” Yeah right, Crest.) Haha. (You want to explore unknown? Go explore true unknown. Death!) Oh, boy. I think I’m off board on that one. (Why? We all going to die. Accept it. Sweet release!) Okay. Well, that’s all for us. And for the record Crest Be Adventurous Mint Chocolate Trek Toothpaste is better than death. (That opinion!)

Item: Crest Be Adventurous Mint Chocolate Trek Toothpaste
Purchased Price: $5.49
Size: 4.5 oz tube
Purchased at: CVS
Rating: 6 out of 10
Pros: Pretty smooth, balanced flavoring. Is reminiscent of Oreo cookies. Smearing chocolate on your teeth without guilt.
Cons: Pangs in stomach from “eating” candy, but not eating candy. Not sure why it exists. Costs more than regular toothpaste. Not really an adventure.

REVIEW: Wendy’s Spicy Chipotle Jr. Cheeseburger

Wendy’s Spicy Chipotle Jr. Cheeseburger


What does it mean?

They tell me it’s a smoked jalapeño, but the word has been repeated so much in recent years, it might as well be Klingon on my tongue. Assembled in an American trend factory, “chipotle” has been introduced to the public, pumped full of hype and then abandoned, surreptitiously left outside to slowly evaporate. My brain doesn’t even register it anymore. It took me three passes to not just read “Wendy’s Spicy Jr. Cheeseburger.” Chipotle. Chipotle. Chipotle. Oh no, I just summoned a Beetlejuice made of peppers.

Standing in line waiting for my order at the local Wendy’s, the question suddenly presents itself: What exactly am I about to eat? And then I look up to see this sign.

Wendy’s Spicy Chipotle Jr. Cheeseburger sign

Thoughts, in order: Is this Russian? I can read “brioche.” Can I … read Russian? Am I in Russia right now? (I am waiting in a line for food, after all). Have I been in Russia my entire life? Does Wendy’s serve cold beet soup? … What is chipotle again? Am I ordering a cheeseburger with a mediocre Mission-style burrito on it? A cheeseburgeritto? Well, at least I know nobody in Russia would come up with “cheeseburgeritto.” I must be in America. Whew. Anyway, I got the cheeseburger and it wasn’t bad!

The Wendy’s website lists the components of the Spicy Chipotle Jr. Cheeseburger in a handy list. “Sandwich bun, junior hamburger patty, spicy burger sauce, pepper jack cheese.” If you’ve dabbled in the Wendy’s value menu before, the bun and patty are familiar. The bun is springy, functional, and inoffensive. The patty is chewy like a warm ground up sponge, but, like, a reasonably tasty sponge. The meat is also noticeably less greasy and flavorful than the non-“Right Price Right Size Menu” burgers.

Oh, boy.

“Right Price Right Size?” Shut it down, Wendy’s. Nobody wants to say that many words. I’ll eat at Wendy’s every day for a year if one person has ever said the name of that menu out loud in casual conversation. (Someone say it! I need an excuse to eat Wendy’s for a year!)

Wendy’s Spicy Chipotle Jr. Cheeseburger Topless

Let’s get to the flavor portion of the pageant. There’s the sauce, cheese and jalapeño, which, in concert, give a decent kick to the burger. While the aforementioned “spicy burger sauce” is a little too mysterious for my liking, it has a hit that immediately dissipates into a soft numb that barely lingers at all. The tiny pile of jalapeño looks like it fell off a truck on the way to a Subway, and definitely exhibits that earthy jalapeño taste, for better or worse. The peppers are sliced but not chopped, and the texture of “full” vegetables along with the spiciness kind of recreate the feeling of eating some sort of torta-burger concoction. The cheese adds a reliable, creamy counterbalance to the bite of the sauce, rounding out the burger.

The Spicy Chipotle Jr. Cheeseburger is a decent choice (great for the price point) but feels a little like a relief pitcher, good enough to get you through a few innings but not the entire game. It has a unique heat that seems to draw inspiration from Mexican sandwiches, rather than the sharp, aggressive burn from most other fast food spicy fare, which almost marginalizes it as a novelty or a side dish. Since it lives on the value menu, perhaps that’s by design.

I would recommend getting this item in a collection of foods, as it serves as a good change-of-pace burger. Okay, we ain’t in Russia for sure. We eat so much we got change-of-pace burgers, y’all. And I’ll eat Wendy’s every day for a year if Vladimir Putin has ever eaten anything that had “chipotle” in its name.

(Nutrition Facts – 340 calories, 170 calories from fat, 18 grams of fat, 7 grams of saturated fat, 1 gram of trans fat, 55 milligrams of cholesterol, 930 milligrams of sodium, 210 milligrams of potassium, 24 grams of carbohydrates, 4 grams of sugar, 2 grams of fiber, and 17 grams of protein.)

Item: Wendy’s Spicy Chipotle Jr. Cheeseburger
Purchased Price: 99 cents
Size: N/A
Purchased at: Wendy’s
Rating: 7 out of 10
Pros: Great price. Well balanced flavor. Good chance of pace from regular Jr. Cheeseburger.
Cons: Some may not cotton to the taste of jalapeño. Not satisfying enough to eat just one. Saying “Right Price Right Size” out loud. “Chipotle” means nothing. Never learned Russian.

ANNOUNCEMENT: New Reviewer Kevin

Hey, dudes. I’m Kevin and I’ll be reviewing foodstuffs for the Impulsive Buy. I was born in California but went East in search of a Sonic Drive-In. I had to stop at the water and now, about three decades later, I live in New York City. I eat garbage sometimes and I’ve followed this website for a number of years now.

I wrote you a song. You can sing it to the tune of this. Or sing it to any song you want, really. I’m not your boss. I’m your friend! Think of me like … your Chandler. No, like the monkey. No, like the couch they couldn’t get up the stairs in that one episode. Ooh, Aisha Tyler. Archer! Watch Archer, guys. Now on at 10 p.m. on Mondays. FX. Boom.

Oh yeah, the song.


White Castle sliders and biscuits from Popeyes

Untoasted Pop Tarts and Animal Style fries

Stephen Colbert’s pint by Ben and Jerry

These are a few of my favorite eats

Haribo gummies and small tubes of Pringles

Hot dogs from Costco and donuts with sprinkles

Burgers at Wendy’s, please double the meat

These are a few of my favorite eats

M&M pretzel and shrimp chips by Calbee

Oreos stuffed with what smells like Funfetti

Carl’s Jr. battered and fried zucchini

These are a few of my favorite eats

When I work out

When I play sports

When I’m running fast

I simply remember my favorite eats

And that’s why I feel so fat

Breakfast Jack croissant and cones at McDonald’s

Flavor Twist Fritos and Coke in glass bottles

Buttery Hawaiian shortbread cookies

These are a few of my favorite eats

When I dive in

When I kick hard

When I’m swimming laps

I simply remember my favorite eats

And that’s why I feel so fat


I look forward to eating products for you guys and also stockpiling insulin.