Category: Jimmy Dean

Being a die-hard Celtics fan, I recently had the great pleasure of watching Kobe Bryant lose in historic fashion in the NBA Finals. I never liked Kobe, probably stemming from the time he took pop singer Brandy to his high school prom. It all seemed very insincere. At that moment, I could have sworn that it was a Michael Jackson−Lisa Marie Presley situation where he was covering up his secret disturbing sexuality by dating a woman that he could never really be attracted to. I mean, come on…Moesha? I’m not gay, but I’m pretty certain that I’d rather have sex with her brother Ray J.

Perhaps the best Kobe Bryant-related news I’ve heard all week, however, stems from a club frequented by former teammate and fellow adulterer Shaquille O’Neal. Shaq hates Kobe, not just because he is a sociopathic ball-hog, but because he told the police that Shaq paid off women to keep them quiet about their unsavory trysts. This all led up to TMZ catching juvenile-ly hilarious footage of Shaq in a club commanding Kobe to “tell me how my ass tastes” through the medium of freestyle rap.

I don’t know what Kobe’s response is, though I’m certain that he would somehow manage to fit in “We just have to toughen up on defense,” but I’d imagine that the taste of Shaq’s ass is not dissimilar to Jimmy Dean’s Pancakes & Sausage Minis. Maybe that’s being a little harsh, but I can’t imagine why anyone would ever want to eat these things when there’s a much better version on the market that comes on a stick. My philosophy has always been that things taste better on sticks. Preferably deep fried sticks. Don’t ask me why, it’s just how things are.

Since I bought this box on the eve of my championship celebration, I had high hopes for these bite-sized Minis. Unfortunately for me, nothing ruins my mood faster than crappy and overpriced food. These Minis were soggy, disarmingly sweet, and had the texture of ground rubber. Being a fair reviewer, I then tried a batch in the toaster over.

For my patience, I was rewarded with a saccharine, crispy shell of batter surrounding a fine piece of ground rubber. As you could probably imagine, I quickly grew weary of this mysterious rubber sausage and went to the local Pep Boys to inquire about its recycled value. Alas, as I’m sure Shaq would enjoy hearing Kobe say something about his ass, sometimes things are just better in bigger packages.

(Nutritional Facts – 3 pieces – 260 calories, 160 calories from fat, 18 grams of fat, 6 grams of saturated fat, 30 mg of cholesterol, 510mg sodium, 19 grams of carbs, 0 grams of dietary fiber, 7 grams of sugar, 5 grams of protein, 0% Vitamin A, 0% Vitamin C, 2% Calcium, 4% Iron)

Item: Jimmy Dean Pancakes & Sausage Minis
Price: $3.29
Purchased at: Stater Bros.
Rating: 2 out of 10
Pros: Small, convenient size for families on the go who don’t care if they enjoy what they’re eating. For the environmentally conscious, sausage may be recyclable. Freestyle rapping about the taste of ass.
Cons: Very small portion for the price that you’re paying. Comes out soggy in the microwave. Extremely sweet for a product that isn’t honey-battered. Sausage tastes like a tire.

The night started off innocently enough. But then again, so did OJ Simpson’s acting career. I looked in the mirror and declared that I would stay cool. You don’t want to do anything crazy at a Halloween party. You never know what can happen once you get going. Or what you will buy.

After hitting the dance floor, I soon found myself with a cute girl in a skimpy tiger costume. After adjusting her beer goggles with a few drinks, I decided to try out a few of my patented moves. I went for the Wisconsin Bulldog and the Orange Creamsicle, but had my hand knocked away when I went for the Magic Bullet. I briefly thought to myself, “Does enjoying this make me a furry?” but then proceeded to get my groove on. I soon realized that I dance the same way I make love…very, very awkwardly.

One thing led to another and I ended up in her place with a massive hangover. I had no idea about what had gone on since we were last on the dance floor.

“Did we…did we do it?” I asked, hoping that I totally did it with her.

“Uhh…no,” she said. “Don’t you remember? You said you’d rather go shopping for food. Kept mumbling something about becoming god of all internet reviewers and the dancing queen.”

“Well, that does sound like something I’d do,” I remarked. “But then why am I naked and handcuffed to the bed?”

“I’m not sure, I left you alone after we came back,” she answered.

Hmm…she had a point. That is how I sleep every night. But I wish she hadn’t seen me like this. After I freed myself, I figured that I might as well raid the fridge. I needed something substantial to keep my head from throbbing. What I found was more than I was prepared to handle…

“Oh…my…god…What the fuck is this?!” I asked.

“I don’t know, I think you bought it,” she replied.

I stared at the box and slowly shook my head. Son of a bitch, I even hate myself when I’m on a drunken food purchase binge! I either secretly want to kill myself or have become such a diabolical genius that I went insane. This bowl was by far the scariest thing I had seen all weekend.

It was an unholy bowl of bacon, eggs, potatoes, and cheese — all mixed together so you can eat it like the failure that Jimmy Dean thinks you are. Did I mention that there’s a lot of fucking bacon in this thing? There’s like a ridiculous, enough-salt-to-melt-an-iceberg amount? I couldn’t really imagine ingesting it, but I didn’t have many options. It was either this or some ramen flavor packets that she had saved up. Seeing as it is Halloween season, I figured that I had a duty to myself and for the fine readers to indulge my morbid curiosity.

This bowl has no practical reason for existing other than as a product of a dare at some marketing department, so I tried to alleviate my fears by thinking the situation through. I’m sure it had to be quality tested. Some tasters actually had to survive long enough to give this thing the thumbs up. And at a mere 8 ounces, it didn’t seem like much of a meal. It couldn’t make me feel that bad, right? This was all before realizing that it would be healthier if I ate a tub of Crisco.

I eventually got around to microwaving this bad boy and watched it rotate for the full 3 minutes. By minute two, the air had been permeated by the nauseating scent of grease and cheese. I opened the plastic film to take in the beauty of the bowl’s contents. Oh, did I say beauty? I meant brain-exploding hideousness. The cheese had ceased to resemble anything appetizing and clung to the eggs like melted plastic. The potatoes had the glossy shine of a mint condition baseball card. The eggs were essentially pieces of yellow Styrofoam tossed together with chopped bacon.

This is the breakfast that 8-year-old children cook for their mothers’ birthdays. They fumble around in the kitchen, throw everything together, and then microwave the shit out of it so they can serve breakfast in bed. The mom will take two bites and make an exaggerated “mmm…” sound while vigorously rubbing her stomach. The child will then run off and laugh as she proceeds to dump the contents of the bowl in a trash can and begins to manually induce vomiting.

I tried a few bites. It was strange, but it wasn’t completely awful. Salty, greasy, and stiff, but still kind of edible. I’ve probably had worse breakfasts. I’m not sure why I’d pay $2.99 for this when I could have a small, possibly mentally challenged child make me the same thing at a fraction of the cost. As I was trying to justify my purchase, however, I started to wonder why I was suddenly nauseous.

The back of the box had my answer. Hmm…33 grams of fat, 1490 mg of sodium, 132% of my daily cholesterol allowance. Why don’t they include a complimentary vial of poison while they’re at it? And why exactly is an individual serving of a meal allowed to exceed 100% of something that can kill me? Well, at least it has 2 grams of fiber so I can stay regular after I collapse face first as I suffer a heart attack trying to walk down at set of stairs at school. Maybe I’ll wake up naked in a hospital bed with handcuffs on. That won’t be weird at all.

(Nutritional Facts – 1 Bowl – 520 calories, 33 grams of fat, 13 grams of saturated fat, 1.5 grams of trans fat, 395 mg of cholesterol, 1490mg sodium, 21 grams of carbs, 2 grams of dietary fiber, 0 grams of sugar, 30 grams of protein, 20% Vitamin A, 6% Vitamin C, 25% Calcium, and 15% Iron)

Item: Jimmy Dean Bacon Breakfast Bowl
Price: $2.99
Purchased at: Stater Brothers
Rating: 4 out of 10
Pros: Not completely inedible. The possibility of getting laid at Halloween parties. When children are thoughtful even when they are incompetent.
Cons: Horrible mixture of horrible-for-you foods. Food gets overcooked and therefore stiff after microwave nuking. Enough cholesterol to kill you 1.32 times in a day. Not getting laid at Halloween parties. Waking up naked with handcuffs and not finding it unusual.