Margaret, Author at The Impulsive Buy

REVIEW: Nabisco Raspberry Oreo Fudge Cremes

August 14, 2013August 25, 2023 Margaret 4 Comments

It was 98 degrees and I was searing in an oven of pavement and diesel fuel, waiting in the line for ice cream sandwiches that curved through the park. The line of 23 people seemed an eternity in the summer haze that swept across my weary brow. As I swatted the mosquitoes spinning near my heat-struck face, I saw it. There. In the distance. The grocery store. It promised air conditioning, self-checkouts, and ice cream cookie sandwiches 48 percent less expensive than anything I’d get out of a food truck.

Damn the line. I wanted my cookie sandwich and I wanted it now and, with a healthy mix of hunger, heatstroke, and adventure, I stomped right in for a trip down the cookie aisle, where I found these new fudge-covered goodies.

Yes, human beings of the world, Milk’s #1 cookie is at it again, this time in a rubus idaeobatus rendition. As a fan of raspberry-and-cream popsicles, Oreo cookies, and anything covered in a fudge-like substance, I decided I’d take the dive, and thus, with a tub of Cool Whip and my newfound cookies in hand, I trounced back to my apartment and ripped ‘em right open.

Peeling back the resealable tab, I was shocked as the smell of Extra Raspberry Vanilla Cupcake Gum attacked my nose. “What in the name of Popsicle Man hath overtaken my Oreo?!” I asked, shaking a blighted fist to the sky.

I now found myself hesitating to reach my hand in, fearing the bizarre berry burst that was shocking my senses, but one look at the melty, chocolatey little rows of O’s and my hand soon sullied forth, hooked by curiosity and fudge cravings.

For those not yet versed in the ways of the Fudge Creme, the construction of said cookie is a simple one in theory: a single Oreo cookie wafer, thin layer of creme, all covered in an especially fudge-like substance. It’s a thinner, dare I say, sleeker rendition of an Oreo, but not necessarily better.

It’s much smaller than a Oreo sandwich, thus giving it a lower ratio of crème and denying one from the “Twist and Lick” eating method. But what it lacks in “sandwich” qualities, it more than makes up for in the ample fudgy coating, which serves as a protective goo that tastes of chocolate and melts faster than a Ziploc bag on the surface of Venus (And Ziploc bags melt really fast. I discovered this in an unfortunate incident involving a microwave…)

However, in a much more happy, non-microwave-related accident, I found that the fudge reminds me of Hershey’s milk chocolate: slightly grainy, quick to melt, and milky sweet. This is the kind of chocolate that helps me understand why people burst into spontaneous show tunes on the subway. It can be a little waxy in taste, but I give it a respectable one thumb up. The cookie is the traditional charcoal-black Oreo disk, which adds some needed crunch and crumble to counteract the mighty fudge.

A fair warning to those not yet experienced: this fudge has a super low melting point and is sure to transfer itself to your hands and fingers and, potentially, that dashing new white shirt your significant other got you the other day. I’d encourage you to consume wisely. It’s a messy affair, but, just like eating from a can of Reddi-wip, sometimes the messiest things are the most rewarding.

However, this time, the creme just doesn’t jive for me. The raspberry-ness tastes a bit like a Mixed Berry Skittle with hints of cotton candy popsicles and raspberry gum. I respect this flavor as a popsicle or chewy gelatin candy, but it’s not really my thing when combined with the chocolate experience. Like someone building a nuclear testing facility over the green, fertile pastures of hippity-hoppity bunnies and happy-dappy squirrels, the creme is demolishing the fudge and cookie that held beautiful potential.

But, hey, I give props for taking risks. While some of their more recent flavors may raise accusations of blasphemy and shock, one cannot accuse Oreo of being shy. They have created a cookie of great renown, and they are using that confidence in their product to shake things up and see if they can’t nail the next Great Flavor lurking in the social subconscious.

This particular rendition doesn’t quite do it for me. But maybe I’m just a small child on the wrong end of the see-saw, and these Oreos are a bigger, more powerful kid and, as so often happens with small children on the wrong end of see-saws, these Oreos ker-plonked themselves down and catapulted me over the fence. On the whole, I’m happy to have tried them. Maybe you should, too. But I can’t say I’ll be buying them again in the near future.

(Nutrition Facts – 3 cookies – 180 calories, 80 calories from fat, 9 grams of fat, 5 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 0 milligrams of cholesterol, 70 milligrams of sodium, 60 milligrams of potassium, 25 grams of carbohydrates, less than 1 gram of dietary fiber, 19 grams of sugars, and 1 gram of protein.)

Item: Nabisco Raspberry Oreo Fudge Cremes
Purchased Price: $4.99
Size: 11.3 oz.
Purchased at: Met Foods
Rating: 3 out of 10
Pros: Not boring. Hershey-like fudge coating. Crunchy Oreo cookie base. Dark chocolate and milk chocolate balance each other well. Reason to buy a tub of Cool Whip. Reason to get messy. Reason to use “hippity-hoppity” in a sentence.
Cons: Flavor of creme reminiscent of cotton candy popsicle and raspberry gum in semi-liquid form. Lacks the trademark “cookie sandwich” eating experience. Fudge not good for white shirts. Microwave-related accidents. Getting flung off a see-saw.

REVIEW: Post Honey Bunches of Oats Crunchy Cinnamon Granola

July 25, 2013August 25, 2023 Margaret 3 Comments

Switch on the Simon and Garfunkel and dust off the lava lamp ‘cause Honey Bunches hopped on the granola train. Baked, fried, or composed from the wood shavings of an oak tree, I love granola.

I love granola. I will eat it on a boat, with a goat, beside a clown, upside down, with a moose, or rhyming like Dr. Seuss, and that rule remained stapled to the forefront of my mind as I swiped Post Honey Bunches of Oats Crunchy Cinnamon Granola at the Target checkout and strode home, fingers itching to peel back the resealable tab.

And I wasn’t disappointed. Crunchy, sweet, and full of clumps the size of Frankenstein Grape Nuts, Honey Bunches put a solid foot forward. The oats are toasted without being burnt, bringing out a roasted, almond-like nature, But granola cannot live by oats alone. Fortunately, like a good high school band, there’s a drummer backing things up, and its name is cinnamon.

As with many spices, cinnamon holds the potential to overpower a dish. As I have discovered through many oatmeal-related accidents, a fine line exists between “Just right” and “Clouds of cinnamon are clogging my trachea!!”

Well, Mr. Robot that does the dusting of cinnamon at the Post factory deserves a raise: he mixed the cinnamon in throughout without being heavy handed, providing a warm end to the brown sugar highlights of the bits. In that special way, it reminds me of a crunchier version of the top of a streusel-ized coffee cake and, in that same special way, it’s pretty easy to down it all at once.

However, that would require some serious jaw-muscle action as this stuff is crunchy. As in, “I worry about my dental insurance,” crunchy. While the regular bunches in Honey Bunches of Oats cereal crumble easily, these nuggets are more akin to the densely compressed character of Nature Valley bars in clump form.

If I were hiking Mt. Everest, I’m 89.7 percent sure the echo ensuing from crunching would cause an avalanche. If you find yourself concerned about avalanche risk, just follow the rules taught to us by Smoky the Bear: 1) don’t start forest fires and 2) be considerate where you crunch your granola.*

*Smoky the Bear told me this directly while I was hiking through the Seattle forests back in 2007.

Granola, in its best form, can be enjoyed both on its own and muddled into other mediums and, indeed, after mixing in ice cream, I can affirm these clumps hold their own. The granola chunks and shards stayed crunchity, providing both texture and warm cinnamon to the chocolate Blue Bunny I spooned down. Separate, they are good. Combined, they become excellent, forming a bowl of sugary, smooth, cold, slightly brittle, cinnamon-dusted, creamed-up nonsense, and we all need more nonsense.

If I were to nitpick, I’d say potential pitfalls one might encounter here would be 1) most clusters are itty-bity, b) risk of dehydration and/or jaw ache is high, and III) 11 ounces of granola empties fast, but, when I’m complaining about something emptying fast, I know I’ve got something good on my hands. And this granola is good. Balanced, crunchy, and just sugary enough, it delivers the promise of cinnamon sugar in its own awkward, beautiful way, reminding me that I don’t have to pay for a ticket to Bonnaroo or jump in a time machine set for the 70s to enjoy plopping in the bean bag chair for a day and munching some granola.

(Nutrition Facts – 2/3 cup – 240 calories, 60 calories from fat, 7 grams of fat, 0.5 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 0 milligrams of cholesterol, 10 milligrams of sodium, 140 milligrams of potassium, 42 grams of carbohydrates, 3 grams of dietary fiber, 13 grams of sugars, and 4 grams of protein.)

Item: Post Honey Bunches of Oats Crunchy Cinnamon Granola
Purchased Price: $3.69
Size: 11 oz. bag
Purchased at: Target
Rating: 7 out of 10
Pros: Good ratio of cinnamon to sugar. Well-toasted oats. Balance of clusters and crumbs. Crunchy. Resealable baggie. Reminds me of eating the top of an extra-dense streusel. Gets better with ice cream. Beanbag chairs. Dr. Seuss.
Cons: Wishing for more big granola chunks. Strain in jaw muscles. Echo from crunch could result in avalanche. Clogged tracheas. Dental insurance. It’s hard to find a time machine.

REVIEW: Valencia Orange Starbucks Refreshers

July 19, 2013August 25, 2023 Margaret 5 Comments

We all have a little King Kong inside of us: an otherwise docile, gentle animal that lives in our minds that, when he’s happy, he does his cool gorilla thing. Probably eats bananas and swings in his hammock while catching up on Darwin.

However, when we get dehydrated, that inner King Kong gets angry, causing us to go bonkers, resulting in an array of side effects including (but not limited to): throwing random objects, running through traffic-filled streets, and impulsively roaring at the top of the Empire State Building. (This explains the curious behavior patterns of many New York tourists.)

Thankfully, Starbucks noticed this public dehydration problem and, hoping to relieve many of our inner King Kongs from lashing out, released their line of Refreshers and, in a city that has more Starbucks than grocery stores, I decided to stop in and give this new Valencia Orange Refreshers a go.

Tart, cold, and icy as all get-outs, “refreshing” stands as the best descriptor one can pin to this golden-hued sucker.

James Bond would appreciate that the preparation for Refreshers require it to be shaken, not stirred. The experience of slurping this bad boy down is akin to taking a Valencia, a Clementine, and a naval orange, smooshing them in a compressor, and creating a sugary fruit juice box from it.

Taken as a whole, it tastes of Tang or a gentler Sunny-D with a hint of overripe peach at the end, which may or may not be the implied “apricot” mentioned in the description. There’s also a tinge of bitterness and, if I close my eyes, a tart zing, most likely from some combo of the orange peel floating around and caffeine. It’s a nice dimension to what would otherwise be a strictly sweet drink.

Despite the orange-filled nature of this mélange, not a hint of pulp can be found, something my pulp-free spirit is pleased to discover. It does, however, come with a slice of Valencia orange. My specimen was a slender, middle-of-the-road slice, which was nice to gnaw on as I trotted my lightly caffeinated, 80-percent-Vitamin-C-fortified derriere through the streets of Midtown.

$Valencia Orange Starbucks Refreshers \Prescription for dehydration$

If you’re a fearless daredevil (and I know you are), you have the semi-secret option of mixing this with other Refreshers or cold tea. If you add a bit of the Berry Hibiscus and/or Passion Tea, it further emphasizes the tart/bitter dimension that plays off the sugary sweetness of the overall Hi-C-orangeade effect taking place within. I’m not sure why it’s so excellent, but, just like why “Y” is only sometimes a vowel, some things are best left unexplained.

Post-gulp, the half cubes of ice are great for crunching, although, in my case, many melted in the 94-degree heat of the sun’s ultraviolet rays, which dulled the flavor. If you want a stronger concentration of orange-juice-box flavor, consider skipping the ice.

Overall, this is a success in my books. I can’t quite distinguish the specific Valencia orange-ness of it, but I don’t give a hoot. It tastes like grit-free Tang, and every growing girl needs Tang. The price point is a bit too steep for my liking, but it’s worth it for an occasional cool-off on a hot day. Starbucks mentions that these will only be around for a limited time, but I’m hoping they’ll end up being like a Macy’s One Day Sale: they say it’s for a limited time, but it keeps going and going and going…

(Nutrition Facts – 12 ounces (Tall) – 70 calories, 0 calories from fat, 0 grams of fat, 0 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 0 milligrams of cholesterol, 15 milligrams of sodium, 0 milligrams of potassium, 17 grams of carbohydrates, 0 grams of dietary fiber, 15 grams of sugars, and 0 grams of protein, 80% Vitamin C.)

Other Valencia Orange Starbucks Refreshers reviews:
Serious Eats
Brand Eating

Item: Valencia Orange Starbucks Refreshers
Purchased Price: $3.54
Size: 12 oz. (Tall)
Purchased at: Starbucks
Rating: 7 out of 10
Pros: Grit-free Tang. Juice boxes. Vitamin C. Lightly caffeinated. Crunchy ice. Freedom to mix it with other Refreshers. Happy gorillas in my head.
Cons: Orange flavor may hinge too sweet if you’re not into Tang. Limited time. Pricey. Ice dulls the flavor. Angry King Kong. Commercials for Macy’s One Day Sales.

REVIEW: Kellogg’s Raisin Bran Omega-3 from Flaxseed Cereal

July 9, 2013August 25, 2023 Margaret 16 Comments

Every time I buy a box of Raisin Bran, I hesitate. “This is the second box of Raisin Bran I’ve bought this month. Where has my childlike whimsy gone? Have I gotten stuck in a routine? Stopped being spontaneous? Stopped growing? Stopped living? What is life?! What is a cereal?! How could I drift so far from them both?!?!”

Maybe it’s the shriveled raisins or the absence of a frosted coating, but I encounter this existential crisis every time, trembling to reach for the box as I come to grips with my mortality right there in Aisle 8.

But then I look at the purple box. I think of the whole grain, the slight honey sweetness of the flakes, the two scoops of raisins, and that happy-dappy little Sun-Man. How can I resist?

Obviously, I can’t. And I snagged a box of this new Raisin Bran with Omega-3 from Flaxseeds.

If you haven’t yet acquainted yourself, Omega-3s are high-octane fats that, according to oodles of researchers, Dr. Oz and my fishmonger, can do potentially great things like keep your heart in check, lower your cholesterol, and permit your brain and muscles to tick along, thus allowing you to pursue that dream you’ve always had to be an Olympian ice skater. Dare I say, Omega-3s are Magic Fats, and while flaxseeds may not be the most aesthetically beautiful seed out there, they hold plenty of Magic Fats, and what happens when you eat a Magic Fat? Well, let’s find out…

I poured a bowl and prodded a tentative spoon into the swamp of the dark brown whole grain. Would the flax give me an electric shock? Or make my body reel, cartoon-style, mutating me into an anthropomorphic animal bent on fighting for justice? I foresaw myself transforming into a crime-fighting llama. Or at least a My Little Pony.

Unfortunately, neither occurred. However, what did occur was pleasant enough to make me go back in for another spoonful. See those speckles above? Those are magical speckles of flax. While the flax itself doesn’t add much flavor, it does add a nice seedy texture, and, if I close my eyes, I can hear my cholesterol lowering with each flax-filled bite.

The old adage of, “Don’t judge a book by its cover,” could be no truer than with Raisin Bran. It’s brown, shriveled, and, if you hold it at the right light, you may mistake it for mulch, but beneath all that roughage fringe, a layered flavor experience awaits. The flakes have a grainy, slightly nutty, almost rye-like wheatiness, a depth which is balanced well by a hint of honey sweetness. They’re more crispity than crunchity, mainly as a consequence of the slimmer flake profile.

With milk, the sweetness of the wheat, bran, and honey shine and the raisins plump up a smidge. While these flakes easily fall prey to the “Mushy glop of bran in milk” effect, they are well suited for a morning dry snack, especially with the chewy sweet of the red raisins involved in each handful.

And there are plenty of those little shriveled grapes. Each box holds the promise of “Two Scoops,” of raisins. While I can’t state for certain Kelloggs’ scoop size, I imagine it to be the size of at least five ice shovels, if not Muck the Bulldozer’s scooper. No matter the dimensions, the 1-3 raisins in every bite reinforces that the Sun Man is certainly delivering on his Two Scoops promise.

These new flakes reinforce one of the beauties of Raisin Bran: it’s a cereal not afraid to be itself. It doesn’t pretend to be a raisin-y Lucky Charms or bran-infused Cocoa Puffs. Nay, Kellogg’s Raisin Bran lets its grainy, bran-y Freak Flag fly, and the addition of flaxseeds, while not necessarily a milestone in cereal-making history, highlights that identity. It may not be revolutionary, but most of the time, I don’t need a revolution to be happy. I just need to plop my Cereal Lovin’ patootie into my sofa, watched some cartoons, and enjoy a bowl of crunchy goodness, and that’s what I did here.

If I get nit-picky, I’d say I could’ve used some more sweetness, maybe a little more crunch (Maybe some cinnamon almonds? Or peanut butter granola?), but if you’re in the mood for a quality Raisin Bran with some flaxseed mischief, you’ll love this.

(Nutrition Facts – 1 Cup – 180 calories, 10 calories from fat, 1.5 grams of fat, 0 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 0 milligrams of cholesterol, 190 milligrams of sodium, 140 milligrams of potassium, 44 grams of carbohydrates, 5 gram of dietary fiber, 17 grams of sugars, and 4 grams of protein.)

Item: Kellogg’s Raisin Bran Omega-3 from Flaxseed Cereal
Purchased Price: $3.06
Size: 14.3 oz. box
Purchased at: Target
Rating: 6 out of 10
Pros: Crispity flakes. A little honey sweetness. Fulfills promise of raisins. Not afraid to embrace its bran identity. Magic Fats. Muck the Bulldozer. Crime-fighting, anthropomorphic llamas.
Cons: Nothin’ bad, but nothin’ great. Could be too grainy for some. Could use one more crunch element. A little more sweetness wouldn’t hurt. Flakes get soggy in milk fast. Existential crisis in Aisle 8.

REVIEW: Pepperidge Farm Cheddar Bacon Goldfish Puffs

June 27, 2013January 14, 2021 Margaret 2 Comments

It’s wiffle ball season!

That’s right, world, it’s that glorious time of year when the few, the proud, the scrappy bust out their perforated plastic golf balls and toss up curves for this 1953 riff on baseball, but before you grab your yellow plastic stick and funky white ball, you’ll need to make sure you have a snack to keep you sharp. Something crunchy. Something easy to transport. Something made with smiles and whole grains.

Well, alongside the 15 billion other curious ingredients, Pepperidge Farm seems to have hit the nail on the head, and, knowing that there’s nothing like and a little fake cheese dust to perfect your wiffle curve, they have brought forth their new Goldfish Puffs, here represented in cheddar bacon form.

These little fishies are a specimen of the cheesy poof in a shape reminiscent of Pac-Man if he had a fin, a quality that, had it been on the real Pac-Man, probably would have helped him get away from those ghosts a little easier. The fin also serves as a great handle to carry each poof as you pop it into your mouth.

And are these ever easy to chomp. They don’t quite hold the Styrofoam-peanut texture of classic cheese puffs, nor do they sustain the crunchy-nibby sensation of Crunchy Cheetos, but settle somewhere in between: puffy, but still slightly dense with a crunch that it makes me wonder if these were a cracker sent through Mr. Poofinator [the name of the robotic Cheezy Poof maker].

As with all cheesy poof varietals, it is the cheese dust that ultimately makes or breaks the game, and, boy howdy, is there plenty of that dust here. Opening the bag sends a gust smoky, cheddar-filled powder into the air. You may fear this will eliminate said dust from your eating experience, but fear not! There is plenty of this fine grain to go around, spreading kindly to your fingers during the eating experience so that you may consume it after your poofs have been devoured.

Speaking of devouring, the flavor of these poofs starts out with a sharp cheddar tang, highlighting the nutty/beefy aspects of cheddar. Unlike the original Goldfish cheddar crackers, this cheddar bites back. What’s curious is that, unlike Cheetos, which leaves its poofs in an unflavored cornmeal state, the interior cornmeal of the Goldfish poof is enhanced with cheddar, giving each fish extra cheddar oomph. I dare say it hinges on too much cheddar, but, if I had a craving for a sharp cheddar blast, I might dive for these. What follows after this cheddar barrage is the “bacon” flavor.

I often subscribe to the School of Everything’s Better with Bacon, but, let’s face it: bacon can be an assertive flavor and, if not treated with care, will stomp all over your sandwich, maple-glazed doughnut, or, in this case, cheese puff. Here, the bacon flavor translates to smoke, char, and that jar of artificial bacon bits you’ve been ignoring in your refrigerator for the past seven years.

According to the puff’s rather extraordinary list of ingredients, I’m guessing the culprit to be the “bacon flavored lard,” although it may also be the ferrous sulfate. Now, I could support bacon-flavored lard if it supported the cheddar flavor, but, when it overpowers with a flavor reminiscent of Oscar-Mayer-gone-awry, it’s doing a disservice to an otherwise pretty tasty snack.

Despite the taste flaws, there’s something to be said for a product that’s ambitious: a product that gives a new shape/flavor on an otherwise old timey favorite. These cheddar bacon puffs? Definitely ambitious. They’re made with whole grains, they come in the shape of smiling fishies, and the cheddar flavor is muy fuerte.

Sure, the bacon flavor may not be doing them a service, but I could foresee liking the regular cheddar puff variety if I had a hankerin’ for sharp cheddar. They could use tweaking on the flavor edge, but they’re a bold product. Props for that, Pepperidge Farm.

(Nutrition Facts – 41 pieces – 150 calories, 60 calories from fat, 6 grams of fat, 0.5 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 0 milligrams of cholesterol, 240 milligrams of sodium, 0 milligrams of potassium, 20 grams of carbohydrates, 1 gram of dietary fiber, 2 grams of sugars, and 2 grams of protein.)

Other Pepperidge Farm Goldfish Puffs reviews:
Junk Food Guy (Buffalo Wing)

Item: Pepperidge Farm Cheddar Bacon Goldfish Puffs
Purchased Price: $2.99
Size: 7 oz. bag
Purchased at: Target
Rating: 4 out of 10
Pros: Ambitious. Loads of cheese dust. Sharp cheddar everywhere. Cheddar-enhanced poof. Crunchy-poofy texture. In the shape of happy fishies. Made with whole grains. Mr. Poofinator. Wiffle ball season!
Cons: Bacon flavor reminiscent of char and 7-year-old bacon bits. Sharp cheddar gets overwhelming. Realizing cheese dust has similar effect as pollen. Questionable origins of “Bacon-flavored lard.”

Author: Margaret

REVIEW: Nabisco Raspberry Oreo Fudge Cremes

REVIEW: Post Honey Bunches of Oats Crunchy Cinnamon Granola

REVIEW: Valencia Orange Starbucks Refreshers

REVIEW: Kellogg’s Raisin Bran Omega-3 from Flaxseed Cereal

REVIEW: Pepperidge Farm Cheddar Bacon Goldfish Puffs

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