Category: Burger King

 
Usually when you order a fast food burger the product is considerably smaller than the item advertised. In the case of Burger King’s Farmhouse King, however, it’s just the opposite – as soon as the cashier handed me the bag, I thought they had accidentally dropped a napkin dispenser in there.

Be forewarned, the Farmhouse King is not for the faint of heart. Packing in a monstrous 1,220 calories, it surpasses the calorie count of Arby’s Meat Mountain sandwich. Indeed, this item could be considered the breakfast version of Arby’s aforementioned Noah’s Ark Sammich (since it pretty much contained two of each animal under its buns.)

We’ve got nearly a pound of burger going on here. That includes about half a pound of flame-kissed beef in the form of two Whopper patties, plus a heaping helping of smoked bacon, plus a double shot of melted American cheese, plus a handful of crispy onions and – the kicker – a fried egg capping the whole thing off like an angel atop a Christmas tree. And underneath the toasted sesame seed buns you’ve got a smattering of ketchup and BK’s proprietary “creamy sauce,” which to me, tastes a lot like honey BBQ sauce.

Needless to say, this stuff is intense. All by itself it makes up more than half of one’s recommended daily allowance of calories, and with more than 2,000 milligrams of sodium, it does constitute an entire day’s worth of USDA-approved salt intake. That said, it’s undeniably a yummy novelty burger, and if absolutely nothing else, one of the most filling single-serve fast food items in recent memory.

I suppose the first question most people would ask is whether the addition of the egg improves or worsens the product. To be perfectly honest, the taste of the egg itself is pretty hard to distinguish from the goulash of meats and sauce, which ultimately coalesces into this extremely tasty medley of BBQ sauce, beef, bacon, and onion (which, for whatever reason, most fast food places describe as “Western”). I mean, if you really focus you can pick up the yolky aftermath, but it’s nowhere near as prominent as you’d imagine. I wouldn’t go as far as to say the egg is superfluous, but it’s certainly downplayed once you start chowin’ down.

If you’re looking for a satiating sandwich, unless you’re a world class competitive eater, this sucker ought to have you down for the count. About halfway through my sandwich I was getting winded and by the time I finished the last bite, full-fledged the itis had set in. In hindsight, it wouldn’t surprise me if that BK “secret sauce” was actually Nyquil-laced Thousand Island dressing.

I wouldn’t want to down a Farmhouse King every week, but for a one-time, super-gluttonous fast food treat it’s downright marvelous. But if you’re going to eat it, be prepared; not only are you going to need a small army of napkins, you better have a pillow handy, too.

(Nutrition Facts – 1,220 calories, 720 calories from fat, 80 grams of fat, 28 grams of saturated fat, 3 grams of trans fat, 335 milligrams of cholesterol, 2050 milligrams of sodium, 62 grams of carbohydrates, 15 grams of sugar, and 63 grams of protein.)

Purchased Price: $6.29
Size: N/A
Rating: 8 out of 10
Pros: The beef, bacon, cheese, onion and BBQ sauce medley is downright delicious. It WILL fill you up. the egg taste is subtle, yet distinct.
Cons: The price point is pretty steep. Some might find the egg flavor too downplayed. Eating the sandwich at noon and having a duel to the death with The Sandman until 5 p.m. rolls around.

Having retired from gracing the cover of cereal boxes, Chef Wendell has teamed up with the brilliant minds behind the cereal-flavored shake line at Burger King to bring us the Cinnamon Toast Crunch Shake.

Wendell’s cinnamon sugar stained hands are all over the latest offering, combining what Burger King describes as cinnamon cereal-flavored syrup and cinnamon toast crunch pieces with vanilla soft serve.

Outwardly, it dons the unassuming guise of a ho-hum vanilla shake, but just as with many superhero origin stories, it’s what’s on the inside that counts. The first sip will blast even the most underdeveloped taste buds into sugary oblivion, but a warm cinnamon aftershock is definitely in play as well. This thing screams Cinnamon Toast Crunch and that beloved flavor is uniform and omnipresent.

As much as I praise the shake for capturing the essence of its namesake, there are some missteps. Unsurprisingly, the cereal pieces do not fare as well as one would like. There was some crunchiness to be found, but overall, they were more soggy than not. This being the first semi-watery shake I’ve received from BK may have hastened the demise of my poor cereal bits.

For breakfast cereal junkies, and especially CTC lovers, this is a dream come true. But, while excellent in flavor, this cereal turned dairy delight hits hard and lingers, possibly even to a cloying extent for those sans adamantium pancreases forged by the cereal fueled Saturday morning cartoon bingeing of their youth.

Because of those shortcomings, I cannot objectively give this a higher score. Personally though, this is everything I wanted it to be; a decadent portal to the halcyon days of color changing Ninja Turtle bowls filled with sugary goodness.

Purchased Price: $3.29
Size: N/A
Rating: 8 out of 10
Nutrition Facts: (Large) 780 calories, 19 grams of fat, 11 grams of saturated fat, 0.5 grams of trans fat, 65 milligrams of cholesterol, 570 milligrams of sodium, 137 grams of carbohydrates, 113 grams of sugar, and 16 grams of protein.

What have you done with my beloved Lucky Charms cereal, Burger King?

I mean, on paper, the Lucky Charms Shake looks like a great idea because I LOVE Lucky Charms and I like fast food shakes that can’t legally be called “milkshakes.” But its execution makes me want to cause physical harm to The King. And in between each violent blow I want say a word from the following sentence: You made Lucky Charms NOT magically delicious, and while I’m venting and have your attention, fix your damn lettuce.

From afar it looks like a regular vanilla shake. But a closer look shows specks of colorful marshmallow bits in an ocean of off-white. Also floating in the soft serve are Lucky Charms oat cereal pieces. I guess if the colorful marshmallow bits are the treasure in an ocean of off-white, then the oat cereal pieces are the wreckage of sunken ships.

Unfortunately, there’s a lot of wreckage and they’re larger than the marshmallow bits. They’re small enough that they don’t clog the straw and in almost every suck there’s a soggy chunk or two.

But no one eats Lucky Charms for the oat pieces. It’s all about THE Lucky Charms.

I want to feel the squish of the marshmallows as I chomp on them. I want them to stick to my teeth. I want them to make me see rainbows and yell, “I’M GOING LOCO FOR LUCKY CHARMS!”

But I don’t get any of that.

Those specks of color give the appearance of marshmallows, but adds nothing in term of flavor or texture. So the best part of Lucky Charms cereal isn’t highlighted in this legally not a milkshake.

Even though it’s made with a “marshmallow cereal flavored syrup,” it doesn’t remind me of the colorful Lucky Charms. Maybe the soft serve’s flavor muddles it, after all vanilla and marshmallow can have similar flavor profiles.

I wish it was topped with more marshmallows and a rainbow-colored straw would’ve been a nice touch. The former would’ve helped make the shake less soggy oats heavy, and the latter would’ve helped bring a smile to my face.

Soggy Oats Cereal Shake has a nice ring to its name, but that’s not what I want with this Lucky Charms Shake.

(Nutrition Facts – 740 calories, 17 grams of fat, 11 grams of saturated fat, 0.5 grams of trans fat, 65 milligrams of cholesterol, 580 milligrams of sodium, 129 grams of carbohydrates, 107 grams of sugar, and 17 grams of protein.)

Purchased Price: $4.99*
Size: 16 oz.
Rating: 4 out of 10
Pros: Cereal pieces don’t clog up straw. Lucky Charms cereal. Okay when there weren’t oat pieces.
Cons: From afar it looks like a vanilla shake. It’s the Soggy Oats Cereal Shake. Marshmallow bits don’t add flavor or texture. Violence directed at fast food mascots.

*Because I live on a rock in the middle of the Pacific Ocean, things are a bit pricier here. You’ll probably pay less than I did.

Slowly, but surely, cereal is becoming more of a dessert than a breakfast.

While starting the day with a bowl of Fruit Loops is a time-honored tradition, cereal as a nightcap is gaining. It’s sweet enough to follow up a savory meal, but hearty enough to fill the role of a late night snack. Something about cereal at night just makes good mature sense. As a kid, a bowl of Fruit Loops was the one thing getting me out of bed to start the day. As an adult, cereal is how I get over the day.

Cereal is an indulgence. So it’s only fitting that Burger King is celebrating this luxury with the Froot Loops Shake. This treat blended loops of sweet fruity cereal immersed within a rich vanilla shake, and an invisible dash of flavored syrup. The result is a treat that tastes familiar, but feels remarkably unique.

At first glance, it’s easy to mistake the Froot Loops Shake for plain vanilla. But on closer inspection, the crumbs of multicolored cereal pop against the white cream. They also hold their color over time, meaning the shake never turns into a rainbow sludge. It stays consistently polka-dotted with reds, blues, oranges, and yellows.

The flavor is immediately reminiscent of cereal milk, the leftover “broth” that ends any morning (or evening) bowl. It’s creamy and lightly fruitful, boosted by occasional bits of cereal.

Froot Loops prove to be the perfect choice for this shake, as they stay crisp until the last sip. It’s a very pleasant texture, with a satisfying crunch. Shockingly, none of the pieces were large enough to lodge themselves in the straw – which often happens with other “chunky” milkshakes.

Overall, the Froot Loops Shake delivers on a simple premise. It’s a vanilla milkshake blended with Froot Loops. There’s no fancy presentation, or elaborate concept. But the real surprise comes from how satisfying this simple combination proves to be.

It’s definitely not a breakfast bite, and isn’t going to wash down a burger. But the Froot Loops Shake will feed that craving for cereal flavor, without the pretense of breakfast.

(Nutrition Facts – 720 calories, 190 calories from fat, 17 grams of fat, 11 grams of saturated fat, 0.5 grams of trans fat, 65 milligrams of cholesterol, 560 milligrams of sodium, 126 grams of carbohydrates, 0 grams of fiber, 103 grams of sugar, and 16 grams of protein..)

Purchased Price: $3.59
Size: N/A
Rating: 7 out of 10
Pros: Tastes exactly like a bowl of cereal, with added richness of ice cream. Delightful texture that doesn’t clog the straw. Colors don’t run.
Cons: Very simplistic. Doesn’t offer much of a surprise. A bit pricey if bought on its own.

Eating Burger King’s new Cheetos Chicken Fries (CCFs) is very similar to going on a Tinder date. You see pictures and read a description of somebody, use a cheesy pick-up line, chat them up for a bit, and then you agree to meet at a bar.

Only when you get there, you find out the person looks nothing like their picture or they just aren’t the person they represented themselves to be online. I mean, you write that you like sailing in your profile but then you tell me you can’t even tie an anchor hitch!?

Cue dramatic piano music.

This was how I felt after eating the newest in the Chicken Fries line. Sure, the box had art similar to a bag of Cheetos. Sure, it says the word “Cheetos” on the box. Sure, they’re covered in a Cheetos breading. Sounds pretty great, right?

Well, the CCFs have one whale of a problem. No, that’s not enough. They have one MOBY DICK of a problem, and it is the fact there is barely any Cheetos flavor on them.

I do not know if it’s because I went on the initial release day and the BK workers hadn’t quite perfected their technique, but the final product tasted like somebody dropped Chicken Fries onto a pile of Cheetos crumbs and a minuscule amount of the flavor rubbed off on them.

I was expecting them to be bright orange, just like actual Cheetos. Instead, they just look like darker Chicken Fries with some orange specks sprinkled on them. The lady who took my order asked if I wanted a dipping sauce, so I ordered a side of ranch thinking I would not need it. But after eating the third one plain I started dipping so they would have some kind of actual, noticeable flavor.

I did get a tiny hint of Cheetos flavor but it was all in the aftertaste and I didn’t even notice it until after I ate several of them, and I really had to concentrate and use my imagination. They just didn’t have the cheesy kick many others and I were probably expecting.

I thought maybe my sense of taste had temporarily gone on vacation, but I got an order for my co-worker and he said the same thing, barely any Cheetos flavor.

The best part about the CCFs was, in all honesty, the box art. Woof.

I imagine somewhere Chester Cheetah is blowing lines of Cheetos cheese dust whilst crying, listening to Joe Satriani and uttering words of contempt about Burger King’s hack job of a recipe using his moneymaker.

(Nutrition Facts – 280 Calories, 18 grams of fat, 3.5 grams of saturated fat, 35 milligrams of cholesterol, 890 milligrams of sodium, 16 grams of carbohydrates, 0 grams total sugars, 14 grams of protein.)

Purchased Price: $2.99
Size: 9 pieces
Rating: 3 out of 10
Pros: Cool box art. Cheesy pick-up lines on Tinder.
Cons: Hardly recognizable Cheetos flavor. Chester Cheetah having his good name tainted.