Author: Michael

REVIEW: Harvey’s Stuffed Cheeseburger (Canada)

Michael 2 Comments

Harvey's Stuffed Cheeseburger 1

There’s something irresistible and just a little bit illicit about a hamburger that’s stuffed with cheese, isn’t there? I mean, biting into a juicy hamburger patty only to be greeted by melty, oozing cheese — who can resist that? At the same time, you know it’s something you probably shouldn’t be eating. To paraphrase R. Kelly, your mind will be telling you no, but your body… your body will tell you yeah.

Still, though it’s an amazing idea in theory — and a simple one no less — can a fast food chain, burdened by the rigors of mass production, get it right? Burger King tried it a few years back, but instead of stuffing the burger with a molten core of cheese, they just mixed bits of cheddar into the beef. This removed the gooey cheese pocket altogether (i.e. the whole reason why stuffing a burger with cheese is so appealing) and greatly diminished the cheddar flavour by interspersing it so thoroughly with the beef.

Leave it to Burger King to get something as simple as stuffing a hamburger with cheese wrong.

Harvey’s is generally a cut above BK, so I sort of figured they had a better chance of getting it right. My biggest problem with Harvey’s in general is that all of their burgers have that vaguely rubbery, somewhat hot-doggy texture that most industrially produced frozen patties tend to have. This is a little less pronounced with their higher-end Angus burgers, which seems to be the foundation of the stuffed cheeseburger, so that’s good at least.

Harvey's Stuffed Cheeseburger 2

Happily, I can say rather conclusively that this burger gets the fundamentals right: yes, it is properly stuffed with cheese, and yes, that cheese is oozy and melting. So that’s Harvey’s – 1, Burger King – 0.

The burger itself is typical Harvey’s; it has that oddly chewy, processed texture, but it’s still better than the average frozen burger (it at least retains some beefy flavour and texture, which is more than I can say for some of the bottom-of-the-barrel frozen patties that I’ve had).

As is the traditional Harvey’s way, you can choose your own toppings from behind the glass; I tried to top my burger as close to the publicity shot as possible, so I went with lettuce, tomato, and pickles. The burger in the picture is also topped with ketchup and mustard, but since I didn’t want to overwhelm the taste of the cheese, I went with mayo instead.

The aforementioned molten core of cheese is fairly abundant, and though it falls somewhere in the taste/texture spectrum between Kraft Singles and Cheez Wiz, it’s satisfying. It doesn’t have the strongest cheddar flavour, but it’s certainly fine for what it is. It’s also nicely spread out inside the patty — aside from the outer edges, pretty much every bite has cheese (note to self: start a band so you can release an album called “Every Bite has Cheese”).

Let’s face it — there’s very little here that tastes like real anything, but it’s pretty good in the same way that a Twinkie is pretty good (actually, I prefer Twinkies, which I like more than I should probably admit in a public forum, but you get what I mean). It’s far from a perfect burger stuffed with cheese, but it’s still a burger stuffed with cheese. Try to resist that. I dare you.

(Nutrition Facts – Not available on the Harvey’s website.)

Item: Harvey’s Stuffed Cheeseburger (Canada)
Purchased Price: $6.49 (CAN)
Size: N/A
Purchased at: Harvey’s
Rating: 6 out of 10
Pros: Melty, gooey core of cheese. Decent hamburger. Realizing that you should always listen to your body over your mind.
Cons: Cheese only mildly tastes like cheese. Burger is vaguely hot-doggy in texture. Not as good as a Twinkie.

REVIEW: Burger King Poutine á la Burger (Canada)

Michael 5 Comments

Burger King Poutine á la Burger (Canada) 1

I think a poutine might just be the most flexible junk food on the planet. You can top it with pretty much anything. Buffalo chicken? Sure. Hamburger? Why not! If you can dream it up, you can put it on a poutine.

Even still, Burger King’s Poutine á la Burger made me a bit wary. Not because it’s particularly weird, but because, honestly, Burger King isn’t my favourite fast food joint. And by “isn’t my favourite,” I mean it’s my least favourite. I actually used to like it a lot — but they’ve gone downhill quite precipitously over the last 15 years or so. It’s gotten to the point where, these days, a visit fills me with a kind of slow-burn horror that makes me very tempted to just turn around and walk out the door.

Even still, thanks to my childhood affection for the place, I occasionally find myself back there, hoping for the best.

The Poutine á la Burger is simple enough: it’s a regular poutine, topped with a chopped burger patty, mustard, ketchup, and pickles.

Nothing here was particularly good. I don’t think I need to tell you that Burger King’s fries aren’t that great, but I’ll do it anyway: Burger King’s fries aren’t that great. They’re standard mediocre battered fries, which pretty much taste the same wherever they’re served. I suspect that most fast food joints that serve them get them from the same supplier (it tastes that way, at least).

The curds weren’t much better. The main test of a good cheese curd is whether or not it has “squeak” – a subtle squeaking noise that a fresh curd makes when you bite into it. I tried one of the unmelted ones on top, and not only did it not squeak, it had a weirdly mushy, almost mealy texture that was unpleasant and quite unlike any curd I’ve had before.

The gravy was probably a bit more thick and gloppy than it should have been, and was otherwise run-of-the-mill bland canned gravy.

As for the chopped burger patty, it was standard Burger King, with that very distinctive flame-broiled flavour. It also had an unpleasantly gamy taste that generally comes from reheating meat one time too many.

The mustard, ketchup, and pickles were mustard, ketchup, and pickles. Even Burger King can’t mess that up.

I’ll bet you think you know where this review is going. Well, here comes the M. Night Shyamalan-esque twist.

Burger King Poutine á la Burger (Canada) 2

All the elements here ranged from passably mediocre to outright gross, so this should have been horrible, right? And in the first few mouthfuls, where I was paying attention to each individual element, it was horrible. But then something odd happened. I started enjoying it. It had all coalesced into something surprisingly tasty.

The curds, once melted by the gravy and the fries, lost their mealy texture. The fries, with their crispy battered coating, stood up well to the abundant gravy. The vinegary bite of the pickles and mustard added a much-needed punch of flavour to the bland gravy. And the gamy taste of the beef was drowned out by the sweetness of the ketchup and the poutine’s other flavours, leaving only a vague beefiness that gave the dish a bit more substance and oomph.

I’m a little bit baffled, honestly. All logic and common sense says that this poutine should have been offensively gross. Each individual component was sub-par, putting it kindly. And yet… and yet, it wasn’t gross. I enjoyed it. It’s as if all the bad canceled each other out and created something that was inexplicably good.

I can barely wrap my head around it. The poutine is objectively awful; I know this. And yet it was weirdly compelling, like a roadside accident that you just can’t stop staring at. About halfway through I told myself to stop eating it, that it was no good, that it was too much, that I’d feel sick. But I couldn’t. I didn’t stop until I had scraped the bottom of the bowl.

I wish I hadn’t eaten this, to be frank. Nothing about it made me feel good, physically or mentally.

Physically, well, that should be fairly obvious. If you pick this thing up, it has heft. I’d be shocked if it weighed less than a pound. Maybe even two. I made the mistake of eating it during my lunch break at work, and I returned to the office clutching my perilously full belly and wanting nothing more than to take a very long nap.

Mentally, it made me question everything about who I am, right down to my very core. Do I have bad taste? I didn’t think so before, but now I’m not so sure. Enjoying something that’s so clearly shoddy has upended everything I thought I knew about myself.

I really don’t know what else to say. I went to Burger King that day to review the Poutine á la Burger, only for it to review me. It peered deep into my soul and found me wanting. It knew who I was, who I am, who I will always be.

It knew everything.

(Nutrition Facts – 880 calories, 46 grams of fat, 14 grams of saturated fat, 1 gram of trans fat, 70 milligrams of cholesterol, 1490 milligrams of sodium, 95 grams of carbohydrates, 3 grams of sugar, and 24 grams of protein.)

Item: Burger King Poutine á la Burger (Canada)
Purchased Price: $4.99 CAN
Size: N/A
Purchased at: Burger King
Rating: 7 out of 10
Pros: In spite of itself, it is surprisingly tasty. Look, I liked it, okay? Don’t make me say more.
Cons: Run-of-the-mill battered fries, mediocre gravy, gross curds, off-tasting beef. Realizing that you like this despite all that and therefore have terrible taste in food. Having your soul laid bare. Self doubt.

REVIEW: KFC Sweet Chili Crunch Chicken (Canada)

Michael 1 Comment

KFC Sweet Chili Crunch (Canada) 1

You’ll have to forgive me if this is a particularly short review; KFC’s Sweet Chili Crunch Chicken is essentially just their Hot & Spicy Chicken, but with a drizzling of sauce on top.

However, KFC’s promotional materials seemed to indicate that the chicken itself is different, which didn’t quite jive with what I was tasting.

I decided to call my local KFC to figure this out, which made me feel very reportery (reporter-esque? Reporter-like? Yeah, I’m gonna go with reporter-like. That sounds legit). I’m like Woodward and Bernstein, only instead of rooting out deep-seeded political corruption in the highest government offices, I’m finding out about fried chicken. That’s about the same, right?

Anyway, what I was told is that it actually is slightly different from the standard Hot & Spicy Chicken. The guy I spoke with said very similar, but that the chicken in the Sweet Chili Crunch is actually a little less spicy — I guess because of the presence of the chili sauce?

Either way, it’s similar enough that I doubt you’d be able to tell the difference unless you ate the two side-by-side. I know I couldn’t.

This basically leaves the Sweet Chili sauce as the differentiator. It’s fairly standard-issue stuff, and pretty much tastes like any number of similar Thai-style sauces you can get at the supermarket. It’s very sweet, with a mild garlicky bite, and an even milder hint of spice. If the prospect of spicy fried chicken is what’s drawing you to this item, look elsewhere. The heat level here registers at more of a mild tingle than anything else.

Though the drizzling of sauce initially comes off as odd and a bit stingy, it’s definitely for the best. If the pieces of chicken had been dunked in the sweet sauce, it probably would have overwhelmingly cloying; in the quantity provided, it adds some vague sweetness and a tiny bit of heat, but definitely doesn’t overwhelm the chicken.

KFC Sweet Chili Crunch (Canada) 2

Anyway, it’s good, because KFC’s standard-issue Hot & Spicy Chicken is good, and that’s basically what it tastes like. It’s nice and crunchy, with that distinctive KFC flavour. I know a lot of people don’t like KFC for various reasons, but I’m generally a fan, despite what my last couple of reviews might lead you to believe. This particular batch of chicken was overcooked and a bit on the dry side, but that’s pretty much the luck of the draw.

For six bucks the meal comes with three pieces of dark meat (a drumstick and two thighs) and an order of fries, so it’s not a bad deal, though I’m not a big fan of KFC’s fries. I’m not crazy about battered fries in general -– I like battering and deep-frying things as much as the next guy, but fries are already delicious as they are. No batter necessary.

(Nutrition Facts – 1 thigh piece – 390 calories, 29 grams of fat, 5 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 95 milligrams of cholesterol, 70 milligrams of sodium, 14 grams of carbohydrates, 0 grams of fiber, 1 gram of sugar, and 20 grams of protein.)

Item: KFC Sweet Chili Crunch Chicken (Canada)
Purchased Price: $5.99 (CAN)
Size: 3 pieces and fries
Purchased at: KFC
Rating: 7 out of 10
Pros: Crunchy, tasty chicken. Sweet chili sauce isn’t over-applied.
Cons: Not very spicy. Not much reason to order this over the standard Hot & Spicy chicken.

REVIEW: Tim Hortons Grilled Steak & Cheese Panini (Canada)

Michael 15 Comments

Tim Hortons Grilled Steak & Cheese Panini

Do you like salt? Do you love salt? Tim Hortons Steak & Cheese Panini will test you. Even if you think you have a high tolerance for very salty foods, this one will take you to the limit; it will stare deep into your soul and find you wanting.

Just as Pizza Hut has a Meat Lover’s Pizza, this should be called a Salt Lover’s Sandwich.

The nutritional info claims it has 1440 milligrams of sodium, and as high as that is, it’s gotta be a conservative estimate. It is aggressively, unpleasantly salty.

But then again, even if it weren’t a 40 megaton salt bomb, it still wouldn’t particularly be worth eating.

Most egregiously, the name of the sandwich is pretty misleading — the meat here bares very little resemblance to anything even close to any kind of steak that I’ve ever had. It’s roast beef. That’s a small distinction, but an important one.

But I like roast beef, so who cares what they call it, right?

Tim Hortons Grilled Steak & Cheese Panini Topless

It also tastes pretty lousy. Have you ever had any bottom of the barrel supermarket cold cuts? You know, the ones that taste more of nitrates and salt than anything you’d identify as any kind of meat? That’s this “steak” in a nutshell. It’s kind of chewy and salty and there’s not much more to it than that.

The cheese was even worse; it was quite possibly the most odiously waxy processed cheese I’ve ever had.

Look, I’m aware that I’m coming off as a complete snob here, but let me make this clear: I don’t mind processed cheese. In particular, on a griddle-cooked, fast-food-style cheeseburger, it’s the only type of cheese there is; it’s perfection.

But even if processed cheese were appropriate for this sandwich (and it’s not — Cheddar or Provolone or Swiss or pretty much anything else would have worked much better), this was a particularly shoddy variety of processed cheese, with almost zero cheesy flavour.

Tim Hortons Grilled Steak & Cheese Panini Side

It wasn’t horrible in the first half of the sandwich, when it was still hot and melty. But by the time I got to the second half, the sandwich had cooled somewhat, and the cheese rapidly congealed into a plasticky morass of saltiness and agony.

And that’s pretty much all there was to this sandwich. Just salty but otherwise tasteless “steak” atop a waxy, cheese-like substance. There are red onions, and they add a little bit of crunch and a mild oniony bite, but their flavour was almost completely unable to stand up to the barrage of sodium.

I should note that I attempted to order the chipotle version of this sandwich, which also comes with a spicy chipotle sauce. In fact, I did order that sandwich — it was on my receipt and everything — but they either forgot to include that sauce, or it was so subtle that I couldn’t taste it (and certainly, that’s not altogether implausible; the panini so incredibly salty that any other flavour attempting to make a dent will get completely annihilated).

I contemplated returning at a later date and ordering another sandwich, making sure that I got the chipotle version this time. But I couldn’t. The idea of eating this again — in any form — was more than I could bear. I’m not strong enough.

And let’s face it, a sauce would have to be mind-blowingly amazing to make this sandwich even borderline edible; I’m going to go out on a limb and guess that the sauce isn’t mind-blowingly amazing.

To keep this from being a complete hate-fest, I will say this: the bread was pretty good. It was perfectly toasted, with a nicely crispy exterior and a soft, fresh interior. I liked it quite a bit. I just wish it was filled with literally anything else.

(Nutrition Facts – 460 calories, 17 grams of fat, 7 grams of saturated fat, 0.5 grams of trans fat, 70 milligrams of cholesterol, 1440 milligrams of sodium, 48 grams of carbohydrates, 3 grams of fibre, 4 grams of sugar, and 29 grams of protein.)

Item: Tim Hortons Steak & Cheese Panini
Purchased Price: $5.49 CAN
Size: N/A
Purchased at: Tim Hortons
Rating: 2 out of 10
Pros: Fresh, perfectly toasted bread. Ben Affleck gives the best performance of his career in Gone Girl (that has zero to do with this sandwich or this review, but I figured I needed at least one more pro).
Cons: Salty, otherwise flavourless “steak.” Salty, waxy processed cheese. Salt, salt, salt. Salt.

REVIEW: Lay’s Kettle Cooked Tzatziki Potato Chips (Canada)

Michael 5 Comments

Lay’s Kettle Cooked Tzatziki Potato Chips (Canada)

The whole theme of the Do Us A Flavour contest seems to be off-kilter flavours that you wouldn’t otherwise see — going through the various participating countries, this year there’s stuff like Chip Shop Chicken Curry, Cappuccino, and Cinnamon Bun.

Tzatziki chips sound a bit odd at first, but really, condiments and dips are a bedrock of classic chip flavours: e.g. BBQ, ketchup, ranch, and this flavour’s closest cousin, sour cream and onion.

Still, I can’t say that I’d ever tried a tzatziki-flavoured chip, so I was kind of excited to try it.

The first thing that hit me when I opened the bag: the smell. Resting somewhere in the scent spectrum between old cauliflower and a moderately ripe sweat sock, it wasn’t an aroma that filled me with a ton of confidence.

Thankfully, I can say with a great deal of confidence that it is much, much better than it smells.

It’s actually surprisingly good. Like the Do Us A Flavour variety I just reviewed, Cinnamon Bun, it does a really great job of replicating the taste of the thing it’s supposed to be. Unlike that one, however, this is a flavour that you’d actually want on a potato chip.

It starts with an addictive tart, lemony yogurt flavour, with the dill and cucumber coming through a few moments after you start eating it. It ends with a lingering punch of garlic that really drives home the tzatziki flavour.

Lay’s Kettle Cooked Tzatziki Potato Chips (Canada) Closeup

It tastes, in a lot of ways, like a kicked up sour cream and onion, but with the flavours intensified and broadened. I’ve never been a huge fan of that flavour, but this one I liked a fair deal.

It’s not subtle, however. What’s the exact opposite of subtle? Because that’s what these chips are. It’s an intense, face-punch of flavour, so don’t expect to taste anything else for the next little while. In fact, even removing the smell from my fingers was challenging; I had to wash pretty thoroughly with soap two or three times before my hands smelled normal.

Tzatziki is the only one of the four Canadian Do Us A Flavour varieties that’s made with kettle chips, which was a wise choice by Lay’s. The thinner, more delicate regular chips would get completely steamrolled by the aggressive tzatziki taste. The kettle chips, however, do a pretty decent job of standing up to the other flavours.

Ultimately, though the chips are probably a bit too intense to be something you’d want to add to your regular snacking rotation, it’s pretty darn good if you’re in the mood. If you like tzatziki and you like chips, then it’s not even a question. You’ll like these chips.

(Nutrition Facts – 50 grams/per 28 chips – 260 calories, 15 grams of fat, 1.5 grams of saturated fat, 340 milligrams of sodium, 29 grams of carbohydrates, 2 grams of fibre, 1 gram of sugar, 3 grams of protein.)

Item: Lay’s Kettle Cooked Tzatziki Potato Chips (Canada)
Purchased Price: $3.69 CAN
Size: 180 gram bag
Purchased at: Longos
Rating: 8 out of 10
Pros: Captures the tzatziki flavour perfectly. Addictive. Kettle chips hold up well to the very aggressive flavour.
Cons: Getting punched in the face with flavour. Lingering aftertaste. Sweat sock aroma.