REVIEW: McDonald’s Jalapeños Cheddar McChicken Sandwich

McDonald's Jalapeño Cheddar McChicken

For me, the smell of sliced jalapeño peppers is inextricably linked to the spring of 1996. One evening, during the waning days of ninth grade, I had joined a small group of friends at the movie theater to catch a screening of Down Periscope. (Look, the first Mission: Impossible movie wasn’t out yet, so we were pretty hard up for national-security-related entertainment.) As magnificent as the on-screen pairing of Kelsey Grammar and Rob Schneider in a submarine promised to be, I certainly had not come for that cinematic gem. I’d shown up because it was my very first co-ed outing. There were BOYS there. Woooooo!

One boy in particular, a 15-year-old upon whom my friends and I fixated daily was in attendance, and he had a jones for some nachos that night. Being a popcorn-and-Junior-Mints girl, the concept of fast food in a movie theater was still a novelty to me, so when my crush brought his plate of nachos and cheese buried beneath a pile of jalapeños into the theater, the distinctive spicy aroma of the chopped peppers was all I could smell. It was intoxicating… He was sitting so close to me, and the fragrance of jalapeños mingled in the air with the scent of CK One and hormones.

So what does all that have to do with a chicken sandwich? Well, this particular sandwich is loaded with chopped jalapeños, and it was the magical portal through which my olfactory nerves whisked me back to that little Midwestern multiplex. At first whiff, I knew I was gonna enjoy this chicken sammich.

It’s a fact that McDonald’s isn’t exactly a place known for its spicy foods. It’s also a fact that in Southern California, it’s illegal to operate a dining establishment without jalapeños somewhere on the menu. I’m sure I read that somewhere. In general, McDonald’s is trying to break away from the norm and create truly unique flavor combos, and their Jalapeño Cheddar McChicken sandwich is the latest creation to make the regional rounds in California before (perhaps) breaking into other markets. I’m sure people in other states have the ability to appreciate jalapeños as much as we do… I mean, if jalapeños have been movie theater snacks for close to 20 years in the Great Plains then that should certainly be enough evidence. But here in Cali, we’re ride or die homies with our peppers 4 life, and McDonald’s knows we don’t play.

McDonald's Jalapeño Cheddar McChicken Wrapper

My first hint that McDonald’s is really serious about their new jam was the wrapper. Stamped there, in bold, red font is the name of the sandwich, and the accompanying sketch of a pair of jalapeños shows McDonald’s means business. Upon unwrapping it, I quickly discovered that this sandwich is just like a regular McChicken sandwich, except in place of mayonnaise they’ve added a generous portion of jalapeño sauce and a thick slice of white cheddar cheese. The jalapeño sauce contains actual chopped jalapeños, which provide a good amount of heat to each bite, and the melted white cheddar (while not exactly bold) is smooth and not waxy. When combined with the umami of the seasoned, crispy breaded chicken patty, the flavor profile is complex and delicious … Not at all how I would describe most sandwiches from fast food joints, let alone McDonald’s.

McDonald's Jalapeño Cheddar McChicken Pulling Off Its Top

As for the serious jalapeño commitment indicated by the wrapper, I’d characterize the jalapeño sauce’s level of spiciness as “lip spicy” more than anything. It didn’t exactly threaten to liquefy my insides (something for which I’m grateful, since my Teflon esophagus and cast-iron stomach are both on back-order through SkyMall), but it was sufficiently zesty. I think the jalapeños themselves were probably pickled, but I could barely taste the tartness beyond the kisser-searing wall of spice. The cheese was really the only downside. I’d say it was closer to American cheese than cheddar, and there was no flavor to speak of, despite the warm, melty texture. Just like that memorable night at the movies seated beside the JNCO-clad object of my adolescent affection, the cheese didn’t really amount to much. (I think he didn’t like any of us.)

It’s comforting to know that for about a buck fifty, I can revisit the past, and this time, Frasier, Deuce Bigalow, and a janky-ass submarine are nowhere in sight.

(Nutrition Facts – 1 sandwich – 360 calories, 140 calories from fat, 15 grams of fat, 5 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 40 milligrams of cholesterol, 1220 milligrams of sodium, 41 grams of carbohydrates, 2 grams of dietary fiber, 5 grams of sugar, and 17 grams of protein.)

Other McDonald’s Jalapeño Cheddar McChicken reviews:
Brand Eating

Item: McDonald’s Jalapeño Cheddar McChicken Sandwich
Price: $1.49
Size: N/A
Purchased at: McDonald’s
Rating: 8 out of 10
Pros: Lip spicy. The aroma of jalapeño slices. Sky Mall. Cartoon jalapeños show they mean business. Mission: Impossible. Seasoned, crispy, breaded chicken patty provides nice touch of umami. Movie-going in mixed company. Tasty and cheap. Ride or Die.
Cons: Not available everywhere in the US-of-A yet. The cheese was bland and didn’t really taste like cheddar. Kelsey Grammar and Rob Schneider. The amount of spice doesn’t represent real business. JNCOs.

REVIEW: Carl’s Jr. Charbroiled Turkey Burger

Carl's Jr. Charbroiled Turkey Burger

There used to be a Carl’s Jr. in my neighborhood that was the definition of foul. You know what I’m talking about – that fluorescent-bulb buzzing, greasy-smelling, un-swept trash on the floor, poorly-lit parking-lot-mugging sort of joint. Not being a big fast food eater, I didn’t have a reason to go there very often, but despite this, I ate there exactly twice. Both times, it was after midnight, I was starving after a cross-country plane trip where there had been no meals, and I had refused to pay the inflated airport price for sub-par food. (I’m looking at YOU, LAX McDonald’s!!!) The burgers I consumed from Carl’s Jr. were greasy, bloated and messy — pretty typical fare, and not the worst thing if you’re famished, but I always felt like I was doing a real disservice to my arteries, waistline, lymph nodes, etc.

That being said, I really wanted to like Carl’s Jr.’s recent foray into “healthy food.” I thought it would help me overcome my deeply-ingrained mistrust of this particular fast food chain and expand my list of low-fat fast food options. (A girl can only order a 6-inch turkey sub from not-so-skinny Jared so many times). So when the new TV ads hit, proclaiming that Carl’s Jr. had enlisted the renowned nutrition experts of “Eat This, Not That” and Men’s Health to develop a trio of leaner burgers for the menu (the Teriyaki Turkey Burger and the Guacamole Turkey Burger are the other two), I was down to try it, despite the fact that I lack the Y chromosome. I thought to myself, Hey, Self, if the “Eat This, Not That” folks can endorse this product, I figure I can help them out a little, maybe satisfy my burger jones while avoiding the unhealthier items on the menu. I figured that a burger under 500 calories would be okay to eat, even if it’s still about 200 more calories than what I would normally ingest in one sitting.

They weren’t lying when they said each burger was under 500 calories, but they just barely squeaked by with that count – the Charbroiled Turkey Burger, the plainest of the three has 490 calories. Really, Carl’s Jr.? You boast about making sandwiches under 500 calories when the caloric difference is two sticks of sugar-free gum. Yes, most of your burgers are in the 700-1100 calorie range, and this burger is much less than that, but that’s kind of like being the air traffic controller who snores the most quietly while on duty. I wouldn’t call slapping together a sandwich that barely meets the “healthy” criteria an awesome accomplishment. Even the turkey burger you doused in sugary teriyaki sauce has fewer calories than your regular one! Do you see how strange that is, Carl’s Jr.? And don’t get me started on the 1,000+ milligrams of sodium.

Carl's Jr. Charbroiled Turkey Burger Halves

Let’s start with the patty. It is ground turkey, and we all know that turkey is the most dignified of all poultry. It’s the only bird that gets its own holiday, and the only bird we dress up in jaunty Pilgrim hats and shiny black shoes with buckles. However, the Charbroiled Turkey Burger patty is supremely unseemly. It looks like something straight out of an elementary school cafeteria or a maximum security prison mess hall. Pale and stiff on the outside, chewy and flavorless on the inside. They probably serve this turkey burger in Hell. How could something so bland contain so much salt? The fixins are standard – I counted two pieces of lettuce, one tomato slice, and a couple teensy pickles. The pile of sliced red onion was a nice touch, but it didn’t make up for the overall lack of flavor. Lastly, there was a glob of mayonnaise on the bottom bun and a slathering of “special sauce” with chopped onion on the top. The special sauce was clearly mayo mixed with ketchup. NOT SPECIAL. Thankfully, the burger wasn’t too messy, but that was probably because the decently-toasted, whole-grain bun soaked up all the spread.

Carl’s Jr. and their partners were really trying to make something healthy here, and I commend them for their efforts. It’s just too bad that the end result tastes like a half-hearted attempt. I expected something meaty and tasty with fewer calories than their usual burgers, and I got school district leftovers. Carl’s Jr. understands that people want better choices for their quick-service meals, but I think they could’ve done a lot better with this burger, especially with the assistance they received from “Eat This, Not That.” They got so preoccupied with looking out for our expanding guts that they left our taste buds out in the cold.

(Nutrition Facts – 1 Charbroiled Turkey Burger (268g) – 490 calories, 200 calories from fat, 23 grams of fat, 4.5 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 80 milligrams of cholesterol, 1010 milligrams of sodium, 45 grams of carbohydrates, 3 grams of dietary fiber, 10 grams of sugar, 29 grams of protein.)

Other Carl’s Jr. Turkey Burger reviews:
An Immovable Feast
Grub Grade

Item: Carl’s Jr. Charbroiled Turkey Burger
Price: $3.61
Size: 1 turkey burger
Purchased at: Carl’s Jr.
Rating: 2 out of 10
Pros: Burger Jones. Under 500 calories. Two X Chromosomes. Red onions. Eat This, Not That. Turkeys in doublets, breeches, and tall, black hats with buckles.
Cons: Bland, school-lunch-grade meat. Really, really close to 500 calories. Enough sodium to blast your blood pressure into the stratosphere. Buying fast food at the airport. Maximum security prison.

REVIEW: Kellogg’s Frosted Mini Wheats Touch of Fruit in the Middle Mixed Berry

Frosted Mini Wheats Touch of Fruit in the Middle

Among the many things that I’ve learned to appreciate as I’ve gotten older (e.g. quiet time, foreign beer, green leafy vegetables, a good deal on car insurance), Kellogg’s Frosted Mini Wheats is the newest entry to the list. Believe me, this is a big deal. I HATED THIS CEREAL when I was a kid.

I’d beg my parents to buy the variety packs of Kellogg’s cereal, strictly for the miniature boxes of Frosted Flakes, Froot Loops, and Apple Jacks, but every once in a while, we’d get one that also included a box of Frosted Mini Wheats. That small orange box would remain untouched for weeks until someone (usually my dad) finally ate them.

I was never tempted to eat the Frosted Mini Wheats, mostly because the flavor and texture were too mature for my sugar-addicted tastes. That, and my common-law marriage to Toucan Sam. But now, as an adult, I can appreciate Frosted Mini Wheats for what they are – just sweet enough to be palatable and chock-full of fiber. I even eat them dry. I know, that sounds terrible, like choking down miniature wicker baskets encrusted with powdered sugar. It is almost a thoroughly boring flavor experience, but you can’t beat the crunchiness.

I didn’t really pay much attention to the Frosted Mini Wheats line before, but now that I’ve tasted the Touch of Fruit in the Middle Mixed Berry variety, I’m curious about the others. The new addition has a filling made with “a touch of real fruit.” Don’t worry, it’s the good kind of touch, not the bad kind, and it happens to be mixed berries. It really is a small amount, so don’t expect it to be “jam-packed” with fruit filling (no pun intended… or WAS IT???). The cereal’s overly descriptive and awkward name makes me wonder if Kellogg’s intends to release a series of fruit flavors soon, and if so, have raspberry and blueberry already been represented here? I nominate strawberry and apple next. Peach and lemon can go to hell.

Frosted Mini Wheats Touch of Fruit in the Middle In A Bowl

As I mentioned before, the texture of the cereal is VERY crunchy, almost like eating twigs, which would totally gross me out if it weren’t for that fact that I topped mine with vanilla almond milk and stevia crystals. The boost of sweetness really helped take the edge off, especially once the shredded wheat biscuits themselves starting soaking up the milk and softening. The mixed berry-flavored filling reminded me of the filling in Kellogg’s Raspberry Nutri-Grain cereal bars. In other words, it was nothing really special. The sensation of biting into the crispy, fibrous shell and tasting a soft, jam-like center was unusual, to say the least. Maybe this is what happens in the wild when animals chow down on tree bark to find sticky sap and grubs. Disgusting visual, for sure, but in those animals’ minds, how different is that from this cereal?

Frosted Mini Wheats Touch of Fruit in the Middle Middle

Despite the strangeness of the whole experience for me, I didn’t hate my bowl of Frosted Mini Wheats Touch of Fruit in the Middle Mixed Berry cereal. In fact, I went back for more. It’s clear to me now that my palate has matured to the point of being able to tolerate the crispy-bordering-on-tough texture and the low level of sweetness, both of which I firmly rejected as a kid. Maybe the fruit filling is Kellogg’s way of throwing the sugar-addicted child in all of us a bone and saying, “Hey, you may be spending hundreds and hundreds of dollars paying off utility bills and smartphone data plan charges every month, but at least your taste buds still work!”

(Nutrition Facts – 21 biscuits/1.9 ounces – 190 calories, 10 calories from fat, 1 grams of fat, 0 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 0.5 grams of polyunsaturated fat, 0 grams of monounsaturated fat, 0 milligrams of cholesterol, 10 milligrams of sodium, 200 milligrams of potassium, 45 grams of carbohydrates, 6 grams of fiber, 10 grams of sugar, 5 grams of protein, 2% calcium and 90% iron.)

Item: Kellogg’s Frosted Mini Wheats Touch of Fruit in the Middle Mixed Berry
Price: $2.99
Size: 18 ounces
Purchased at: Target
Rating: 5 out of 10
Pros: Quiet time. Cereal that is chock-full of fiber. Common-law marriages to cartoon mascots. Touch of real fruit enhances what would probably be a very boring cereal. Great at soaking up milk.
Cons: Awkwardly-named breakfast item. Eating twigs. Mixed Berry filling tastes like same filling in Nutri-Grain bars. Sticky sap and grubs. The Bad Touch. Bills, Bills, Bills. Don’t expect a lot of fruit filling.

REVIEW: Morningstar Farms Sausage, Egg & Cheese Biscuits

Morningstar Farms Sausage, Egg & Cheese Biscuits

Do you ever wonder what it’s like to be a food scientist? I mean, somewhere in this country, right now, in any number of laboratories, there are chemists standing around in white lab coats, creating the next flavor sensation over a Bunsen burner and an Erlenmeyer flask. Do they have a list of objectives for each new invention? “Step 1: Create new convenience food. Step 2: Test flavor. Make improvements if necessary. Step 3: Collect paycheck. Buy Maserati.” Seriously, some of these folks earn up to six figures. When you throw in the added challenge of using meat substitutes for dishes traditionally reserved for the real thing, it makes that hefty paycheck seem all the more reasonable, especially if it turns out pretty well.

Morningstar Farms has a nice fake meat thing going on, and it appears their food technicians have mad skills in the stuffed sandwich science department. It’s like they took a look at the other smaller, less flavorful stuffed breakfast sandwich failures on the grocery shelves and said to themselves, “We can rebuild these. We have the technology. We have the capability to make the world’s first frozen, vegetarian stuffed sandwich with fake sausage.” They vowed that the Morningstar Farms Sausage, Egg and Cheese Biscuit would be that sandwich… A Six-Million Dollar Biscuit, sold for $6. Hot, buttery, and fluffy on the inside, crispy and flaky on the outside, and stuffed with delicious, low-fat ingredients that won’t slide out. And it would be huge for a frozen biscuit. Not teensy like some other brands. Better. Stronger. Tastier. And there’d be a fake bacon one, too.

I’m pleased to say that, on the whole, those crazy scientists have succeeded. The other frozen vegetarian sandwiches I’ve tried just don’t compare to the Morningstar Farms Sausage, Egg and Cheese Biscuit. For one, the other sandwiches lack fake meat, opting for just eggs and cheese. I’ve always preferred breakfast sandwiches that combine the holy trinity of eggs, cheese and some type of meat, and having low-fat, vegetarian sausage crumbles in place of full-fat pork or turkey sausage makes the whole thing even more attractive. Sometimes you just crave that third flavor in a sandwich to kind of balance everything out. Three is the magic number, after all. It’s science.

Morningstar Farms Sausage, Egg & Cheese Biscuits Outters Innards

However, I discovered that the number three isn’t so wonderful. Startlingly, it took me three separate attempts to cook the Sausage, Egg and Cheese Biscuit to an appropriate temperature and texture. It’s pretty strange, considering the warning on the box that the biscuit filling may be “EXTREMELY HOT” after cooking (presumably once), and that the biscuits themselves may be “too hot to handle.” It took a lot more time to get either of these advisories to come true. And even then, it was never too hot to handle.

The first time, I followed the package’s microwave instructions, and the result was just okay. The innards had been sufficiently cooked, but the biscuit itself was left a little bit spongy. On my second try, I used the conventional oven instructions and discovered to my horror, that the innards were still a bit cool, even after sitting in a 400-degree oven for 20 minutes. For my final attempt, I combined the two methods: I microwaved the biscuit for 15 seconds then placed it in the oven for the full amount of time. It came out perfectly: soft, warm, crispy-on-the-edges biscuit on the outside with a hot, sausage-egg-and-cheese mixture on the inside. The texture of the veggie sausage crumbles was exactly what I expected, but the cheese was a bit runny and may have gotten soaked up by the scrambled egg. It tasted much better than before, though. Good thing they sell these things in boxes of three.

The Morningstar Farms Sausage, Egg and Cheese Biscuit makes an excellent breakfast, but not if you’re in any particular hurry. The Sausage, Egg, and Cheese Biscuit is indeed state-of-the-art, but the Morningstar Farms scientists should have been a little more precise with their cooking instructions. Getting the temperature of my breakfast just right was a trial that brought me a little closer to the plight of a true food scientist… only the reward for my scientific experimentation had slightly less vrooom.

(Nutrition Facts – 1 biscuit (105g) – 270 calories, 80 calories from fat, 8 grams of fat, 4.5 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 3.5 grams of polyunsaturated fat, 1.5 grams of monounsaturated fat, 25 milligrams of cholesterol, 600 milligrams of sodium, 190 milligrams of potassium, 39 grams of carbohydrates, 2 grams of fiber, 4 grams of sugar, 10 grams of protein. 4% vitamin A, 10% calcium, and 15% iron.)

Item: Morningstar Farms Sausage, Egg & Cheese Biscuits
Price: $3.99 (on sale; normally $5.99)
Size: 3 biscuits/11.1 ounces
Purchased at: Pavilions
Rating: 7 out of 10
Pros: Buttery biscuit. Low-fat breakfast. Savory vegetarian sausage crumbles. “3” is the magic number. Bigger and denser than other stuffed breakfast sandwiches. Erlenmeyer flasks. Lee Majors.
Cons: Took three different attempts to get the right temperature and texture. Liquid cheese. Not for those in a rush. Less horsepower than a Maserati. $6 regular price tag.

REVIEW: Panda Express Golden Treasure Shrimp

Panda Express Golden Treasure Shrimp

When I think of treasure, naturally, I think of pirates. There is such a strong, fundamental connection between massive hidden hauls of loot and buccaneering that it can be difficult to envision anything else. So you can understand my hesitation to associate pirates with panda bears when I first heard about Panda Express’s newest entry, Golden Treasure Shrimp.

As adorable as pandas in pirate costumes may be, I am tired of pirates. Like so many other North Americans who have been assailed by three (soon to be four) Pirates of the Caribbean films of gradually decreasing quality, numerous high-profile news stories of Somali pirate attacks, several thousand Captain Morgan commercials, and countless Captain Jack Sparrow Halloween costumes, I am so deep in the throes of Pirate Exhaustion that I didn’t want to experience anything pirate-y again for a while. But, by the Beard of Barbarossa, the Golden Treasure Shrimp demands a pirate-speak review. CURSES! Here goes nothing:

Avast ye mateys! Golden Treasure Shrimp ’tis representin’ an improv’ment upon th’ texture and flavor o’ Panda Express’s other tempura shrimp dish, Honey Walnut Shrimp. Accordin’ to th’ proud pronouncements on their site, Golden Treasure Shrimp be a “succulent tempura shrimp, wok tossed with fresh bell peppers in a zesty citrus sauce.”

Arrrr… ‘Tis true, th’ sauce be zesty, but that’s due in no small part t’ its spiciness, which be an unexpected and pleasant surprise. Since th’ coatin’ be so similar t’ PE’s SweetFire Chicken’s sweet chili sauce, I wonder why th’ scalawags dinnae just call th’ new dish SweetFire Shrimp. While only a wee bit citrus-y, th’ sauce has a bold flavor ‘n a nice “lip spiciness” that provides enough heat t’ make it interestin’ without becomin’ too overpowerin’ or painful. A smart sip of grog should cure what’ever lingerin’ heat ails ya.

Panda Express Golden Treasure Shrimp Closeup

Bein’ a lubber o’ tempura-style anythin’, I was pleased t’ find th’ Golden Treasure Shrimp’s batter was crispy despite o’ th’ fact that it be drenched in tangy sauce. However, if let sit for a while, I imagine th’ batter would smartly become soggy. Good thin’ I dinnae wait. Th’ tempura coatin’ be a wee bit heavy ‘n leaves a touch o’ residue on th’ tongue, since it be a tad oily, but th’ shrimp itself be tender ‘n tasty, ‘n weren’t overpower’d by th’ coatin’.

Th’ only downside be th’ sparse addition o’ chopped bell peppers. There were not that many peppers in me servin’ o’ Golden Treasure Shrimp, and they be tiny pieces t’ begin with, so they hardly added t’ th’ overall presentation. But if you enjoy flecks o’ color in your food, these peppers accomplish that job. Compared t’ th’ Honey Walnut Shrimp, th’ Golden Treasure Shrimp be a nice kick in th’ britches, says I. Yeeeaaaarrr!

(Nutrition Facts – 5 ounces – 390 calories, 170 calories from fat, 19 grams of fat, 3 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 115 milligrams of cholesterol, 500 milligrams of sodium, 39 grams of carbohydrates, 2 grams of fiber, 15 grams of sugar, 16 grams of protein.)

Item: Panda Express Golden Treasure Shrimp
Price: Free sample during promotion (normally $6.57 incl. tax for a Panda Bowl)
Size: 5 ounces
Purchased at: Panda Express
Rating: 8 out of 10
Pros: Pandas in Pirate costumes. Shrimp is tender and tasty. Hidden hauls of loot. Spicy sauce is a tasty surprise and isn’t overpowering. Tempura-style anything.
Cons: Pirate Exhaustion. Bell peppers are rather sparse. Captain Jack Sparrow. Sauce isn’t all that citrus-y. Tempura coating is heavy and a little oily. Pirate-speak.