REVIEW: Dunkin’ Donuts Irish Creme Donut

Dunkin’ Donuts Irish Creme Donut glamo[u]r shot

Well, it’s about time!

How refreshing to find somebody taking a stab at an Irish creme-flavored somethin’-or-other for St. Patty’s Day. Green food coloring? Snooze. Artificial mint extract? Been there, clogged that artery.

But whiskey, creme, and cocoa, all wrapped up in a pillow of cakey dough? Now that’s a breakfast of bold hooligans. Bold hooligans like you and me, so, with the blood of my Irish ancestors pulsing through my wee little veins, I dodged my regular glazed cake and nabbed this fella.

Dunkin’ Donuts Irish Creme Donut vessel

Yes, indeedy, that is my vessel of morning justice. Oval-esque and a bit wonky, it reminds me of Gilly, the pet rock I had as a child. Fortunately, unlike a pet rock, this is edible, coated in sugar, and won’t get lost in a tragic river rafting accident.

Now, to dive in…

Dunkin’ Donuts Irish Creme Donut Goo

The cake, which was fresh from the fryer, is puffy enough, if a little dry and tasteless, but I’m accustomed to that in a Dunkin’ do[ugh]nut. Now, to counteract that, there resides plenty of this beige, Irish-creme-like palm oil goo, which fills about 1/3 of the cake’s interior, but, like the mutagen that created the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, this goo can be used for creation…or destruction.

They say love blinds a person. If that’s true, someone loves sweetness in the Dunkin’ Donuts testing facilities because, holy bag of potatoes, Batman, the creme’s definitely sweet, which is a good thing in that it adds some sense of flavor, but I fear it also might make my great grandmother rise from her Irish grave and knock me right in the cake-hole fer consumin’ a product that defies all them laws of what Irish creme should be!

“But grandma!” I’d say, “This particular interpretation of Irish creme focuses on the beverage’s sharp condensed milk flavor!” She would then argue that there’s very little dimension to counteract that flavor, like cocoa or espresso or whiskey. On this, she would be right: where’s the whiskey? I demand whiskey in my palm oil!

However, if I put my expectations of Irish creme authenticity aside, the filling tastes okay. Like vanilla pudding and Cool Whip mixed with a hint of coffee medicine from some sort of Kahlúa flavoring. It wants to be bitter, but just can’t help but stick to its sugary ways. A little dip in the chocolate frosting might’ve added some contrast to help this guy stand up to its fellow pudgy rounds.

I really wanted to find myself scrounging for crumbs here, but, no matter how hard I try, I just can’t finish the whole thing. Alas, this one has fallen victim to one-dimension-ness.

Dunkin’ Donuts Irish Creme Donut Just. Too. Much.

“Et tu, Brute?”

(A little ode to the Ides of March there)

Oh, if only it were simple to create a mass-marketed success. Innovators cast the dice, but they can never be absolutely sure about how a product will fall, and this one fell off its rocker somewhere. Is it terrible? Nope. Will I buy it again? Ehhh… I’d rather have a Girl Scout cookie.

However, while not great, I would be sad if the Irish Creme offering left forever to be replaced by some Smo-Joe green-glazed doughnut. It gets props for innovation, and, at the same time, it could use some help in the flavor department. Don’t give up on it, important people at Dunkin’. With a quick dip in a vat of glaze or a reformulation of the filling, this doughnut has potential.

(Nutrition Facts – 260 calories, 135 calories from fat, 15 grams of fat, 7 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 0 milligrams of cholesterol, 350 milligrams of sodium, 0 milligrams of potassium, 29 grams of carbohydrates, 1 gram of dietary fiber, 10 grams of sugars, and 3 grams of protein.)

Item: Dunkin’ Donuts Irish Creme Donut
Purchased Price: $1.00
Size: N/A
Purchased at: Dunkin’ Donuts
Rating: 4 out of 10
Pros: Sweet. Pudding-like filling. Plenty of filling. Cake is puffy. Not nasty. Innovative. Irish ancestors. Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. Gilly, my pet rock.
Cons: Too sweet at times. Bland cake. Dry cake. Wimpy powdered sugar dust. Gets boring. Absence of whiskey. The fact that “not nasty” is in the pros. The Ides of March. Being haunted by my great grandmother.

REVIEW: White Chocolate Carrot Cake M&M’s

White Chocolate Carrot Cake M&M's

Back in the good ol’ medieval days, when the world used catapults and ate turkey legs the size of canoe paddles, some hungry, conquering genius gathered a bunch of leftovers and root vegetables, shoved them in the oven, and called it a recipe. Thus, the lumpy, bumpy carrot cake was born.

Now, for those yet to be familiarized, a carrot cake is a spice cake that had dashed dreams of being a fruit cake: it’s fluffy cake crammed with all sorts of this-n-that’s (raisins, carrots, maybe some pineapple) and topped with a honking slather of buttercream or cream cheese frosting. Its warm spices have been known to carve a soft spot in the calloused hearts of one-eyed sailors and, when placed before me, it disappears.

Unfortunately, I’m no baker, so when I heard the folks at Mars were serving up that experience in a lentil-shaped white chocolate confection, I sped, tight-knuckled, pedal-to-the-floor, to the nearest Walmart to dig them from their hiding spot in the dusty display case.

White Chocolate Carrot Cake M&M's Bushel

These are pudgy ovoids, notably bigger than a regular M&M. If you’ve had the white chocolate limited edition, you have a feel of what we’re dealing with here: they’re a smidge wider in diameter than milk chocolate M&M’s and have a rounder belly.

White Chocolate Carrot Cake M&M's Are Big

See? They’re huge.

The colors come in a trio of light orange, green, and beige, which not only stays with the theme of “carrot colors” but also reinforces my inner belief that all good things come in threes, and it’s always nice to have my inner beliefs spontaneously reinforced.

Like its white chocolate cousin, these sweet bits have a thicker shell, adding a crunch before the white chocolate filling, which is soft, sweet, milky, and melts as fast as the memories of those poems I had to recite back in high school (“Two roads diverged in a yellow wood…” [she shudders])

One of the biggest problems I’ve faced in white chocolate M&Ms of the past is that, due to all that sweetness, it’s hard to eat more than a handful without passing out cold on the floor from a belligerent sugar rush to my frontal lobe. I celebrate with such gluttonous joy to find that these are far easier to eat. These start off sweet and, while there are no visible spices, there is a certain cinnamon/nutmeg-ish vibe that comes in the middle to contrast with the white chocolate, encouraging a higher ratio of consumption. They may give me a root canal, but I don’t care. That yoga teacher I took classes from three years ago told me to stay in the present, so I shall enjoy these right now…

And now…

And now…

White Chocolate Carrot Cake M&M's Chomp

In the end, eating these makes me want to do something good for the world. Like adopt a rescued guinea pig. Or educate elementary school kids about the importance of their credit score. Or pay those library fees I’ve neglected for four years. These are a solid rendition of a seasonal offering: creative enough to be pushing the boundaries, but familiar enough to inspire mouth-shoving tendencies. What’s even more exciting is that Mars took a risk and it paid off. The only downside is that I’m running out of them…and fast.

(Nutrition Facts – 1.5 oz. (about 1/4 cup) – 220 calories, 100 calories from fat, 11 grams of fat, 7 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 5 milligrams of cholesterol, 40 milligrams of sodium, 0 milligrams of potassium, 29 grams of carbohydrates, 0 grams of dietary fiber, 28 grams of sugars, and 2 grams of protein.)

Item: White Chocolate Carrot Cake M&M’s
Purchased Price: $2.88
Size: 9.9 oz. bag
Purchased at: Walmart*
Rating: 9 out of 10
Pros: Bigger than the average M&M. Smooth melt. Crunchy shell. Spice taste balances white chocolate. Spontaneous reinforcement of inner beliefs. Rescued guinea pigs.
Cons: Never enough in the bag. Limited time. Only available at Walmart. Poobahs. Poems memorized in high school. Disco-ball-related accidents.

*If there’s a miff I have with these, it’s how hard they are to find. They’re available at “select” Walmarts only, which may or may not involve a fill up of your gas tank (a tragedy within itself)

REVIEW LIGHTNING ROUND (FAST FOOD FISH SANDWICH EDITION) – 3/12/2013

Here are some quick reviews of fast food fish sandwiches we’re too lazy to write full reviews for:

McDonald's Filet-o-Fish

Item: McDonald’s Filet-o-Fish
Purchased Price: $2.99
Rating: 6 out of 10
Pros: Adorable wittle sandwich. Decent fish flavor. Soft bun. Topped with a lot of tartar sauce. Fish comes from suppliers with sustainable fishing practices.
Cons: Cheese just added orange color. Tartar sauce could use a bit more tang. Exterior not crunchy. Adorable, but wittle.

Jack in the Box Fish Sandwich

Item: Jack in the Box Fish Sandwich
Purchased Price: $3.99
Rating: 6 out of 10
Pros: At times it tasted like a McChicken Sandwich. Crispy exterior. Decent tartar sauce.
Cons: At times it tasted like a McChicken Sandwich. Needs a better name. Could’ve used more tartar sauce. Shredded lettuce falling out. Dry innards. Basic bun.

Burger King Premium Alaskan Fish Sandwich

Item: Burger King Premium Alaskan Fish Sandwich
Purchased Price: $3.99
Rating: 5 out of 10
Pros: Nice crunchy exterior. Premium bun makes it look taller. Thicker fillet than other fast food fish sandwiches.
Cons: Filet has a weak fish flavor. Slightly dry interior. Bun overwhelms flavor of the fish. Tartar sauce didn’t have a strong flavor.

Carl's Jr. Charbroiled Atlantic Cod Fish Sandwich

Item: Carl’s Jr. Charbroiled Atlantic Cod Fish Sandwich
Purchased Price: FREE (had coupon for free sandwich, reg. $4.99)
Rating: 7 out of 10
Pros: Good fish flavor and it’s lightly seasoned. Decent tartar sauce. Points for not doing a fried fish sandwich. It has tomatoes, which other fish sandwiches don’t. Wider than other fast food fish sandwiches.
Cons: Cardboard-thin fish fillet. Weak wheat bun. Putting way too much lettuce in my sandwich.
Other reviews: Man Reviews Food, My Burning Kitchen

Wendy's Premium North Pacific Cod Fillet

Item: Wendy’s Premium North Pacific Cod Fillet Sandwich
Purchased Price: FREE (had gift card via Wendy’s to try sandwich, reg. $3.69)
Rating: 5 out of 10
Pros: Nice crunchy exterior (thanks panko). Sturdy buttery bun. If you hate shredded lettuce because it keeps falling out of the sandwich, you’ll like the lettuce leaf this sandwich uses.
Cons: Weak fish flavor. Weak breading flavor. Weak tartar sauce without any tang. Pale lettuce.
Other reviews: Fast Food Geek, Brand Eating

REVIEW: McDonald’s Hot ‘n Spicy McChicken Sandwich

McDonald's Hot 'n Spicy McChicken

McDonald’s Hot ’n Spicy McChicken Sandwich is only a dollar, so I really shouldn’t complain about it.

But after looking under couch cushions, car floor mats, Coinstar machines, water in a wishing well, sand at a beach, and sleeping panhandlers to gather enough loose change to buy one, I believe I can add my two cents, which I took from a take a penny, leave a penny tray at my local convenience store.

At a quick glance, the Hot ’n Spicy McChicken looks very much like a regular McChicken. But a closer examination will show it’s got the same bun, shredded lettuce, and mayonnaise, but it’s got a breaded chicken patty with a reddish hue. Its color makes it look a little evil, but if you were to take the shredded lettuce and form a goatee on top of the patty it would look eviler.

Muahaha. Muahaha.

The reddish chicken patty used in the sandwich has a little bit more heat than McDonald’s Spicy McBites, which also had a reddish breading. Unfortunately, the patty’s breading provides no real flavor or crunch.

McDonald's Hot 'n Spicy McChicken Innards

Also, unlike the Spicy McBites, the spicy chicken patty doesn’t have a sauce to give it flavor. It’s stuck with the usual mayonnaise. Not a spicy mayonnaise, mind you, but the same ol’ mayonnaise found on a regular McChicken Sandwich that prevents some of the shredded lettuce from falling out. So it’s just a McChicken with some heat.

The Hot ‘n Spicy McChicken isn’t a new sandwich, it’s been around at limited locations over the past 2-3 years, but during that time they’ve also introduced their wonderful Hot Habanero Sauce. So why couldn’t they combine the two and make a sandwich that’s not only spicy, but also has a flavor that goes beyond a normal McChicken.

Or, if they want the entire frickin’ internet talking about McDonald’s that doesn’t involve pink slime or a drop in revenue, they should come out with a hot and spicy Sriracha McChicken. Twitter, Facebook, Reddit, and (insert big internet 2.0 thingie here) would erupt over that.

Overall, McDonald’s Hot ’n Spicy McChicken Sandwich is hot and spicy, but it’s not much else. Some might be fine with that, but after their surprisingly flavorful $1 McDonald’s Grilled Onion Cheddar Burger, I was expecting a bit more.

McDonald's Hot 'n Spicy McChicken Wrapper

(Nutrition Facts – 380 calories, 160 calories from fat, 17 grams of fat, 3 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 35 milligrams of cholesterol, 1030 milligrams of sodium, 41 grams of carbohydrates, 22 grams of sugar, 2 grams of fiber, and 15 grams of protein.)

Other McDonald’s Hot ‘n Spicy McChicken reviews:
Grub Grade
An Immovable Feast

Item: McDonald’s Hot ‘n Spicy McChicken Sandwich
Purchased Price: $1.00
Size: N/A
Purchased at: McDonald’s
Rating: 6 out of 10
Pros: It’s just one dollar. Nice heat. Great if you’re bored of eating regular McChicken sandwiches. Mayo helps keep lettuce from falling out. A Sriracha McChicken.
Cons: Breading doesn’t provide much flavor or crunch. Has just plain ol’ mayo. Reddish breading makes it look evil. Having to search for enough loose change to buy a Hot ‘n Spicy McChicken sandwich.

REVIEW: Nabisco Roasted Sweet Onion Brown Rice Baked With Sweet Potato Triscuit

Nabisco Roasted Sweet Onion Brown Rice Baked With Sweet Potato Triscuit

If I was required to guess at which snack product would abandon the usual attempt to capture the taste of a nutritionally poor fast food product or even an offbeat American classic in favor of something that sounds like it came from a Giada De Laurentiis cookbook, then I would pick Triscuit.

More upscale than a lowly potato chip and much more inclusive than the crunchy, sometimes divisive malt flavor of the Wheat Thin, Triscuits are the kind of crackers you put out when you’ve invited your next door neighbors over. You know…the nicely dressed couple in their late 30s with 2.4 kids and a dog named Champ. Average. Moderate. Broad. Unassuming. They’re kind of just there. Except when Champ poops on your front yard.

I know it sounds counterintuitive, but I can admire a safe snack like that. It serves a purpose, and is something I don’t feel too bad about when going for seconds at holiday socials. This is important, because like most people, I hate talking to my annoying relatives, who tend to flock to such gatherings. But while I can admire Triscuit because they provide me a distraction when I want to be anti-social, I usually don’t go out of my way to buy them. Hard as I try, I just cannot leap for joy at cravings spawned by the taste of soft winter wheat. 

However, combining brown rice, sweet potato and roasted sweet onion in and on a Triscuit? Don’t expect me to make it and upload a photo on Instagram, but even my inner fat kid can get behind a composed flavor combination of wholesome grains and vegetables like that.

Nabisco Roasted Sweet Onion Brown Rice Baked With Sweet Potato Triscuit Closeup2

Triscuit’s marketing people did a really nice job talking up how these crackers were baked with “real food,” but from the slightly orangyish hue, an almost fried-like wheat and rice structure, and a liberally coated seasoning that looked like Doritos Cooler Ranch powder, each square resembled someone’s misplaced attempt to fry a cracker rather than an actual sweet potato or red onion. Undeterred by this bastardized cracker, my initial bite was greeted by an unmistakable shattering sensation that borders somewhere between crispy and crunchy. Wherever it is on the crunch spectrum, it’s strikingly addictive, and a textural bite I’ve really only encountered at Korean fried chicken restaurants like the chain Bon Chon. Far from the usual sturdy, if not boring, crunch of a Triscuit, I was instantly hooked.

Nabisco Roasted Sweet Onion Brown Rice Baked With Sweet Potato Triscuit Closeup

The flavoring powder is strong and slightly sweet and definitely has the red onion vibe going for it. It’s thankfully not as sharp or intense as a raw red onion, although the flavor doesn’t quite reach the mellowed, smoky-sweetness of an actual roasted red onion. Basically, someone like Scott Conant might not be “kinda angry” from eating it, but would rather be just be mildly confused. Personally, I loved it. For while the sweet onion flavor wakes up your tastebuds, a mellow, smokier and wholesome sweet potato taste permeates the backend. Think a whole grain sweet potato chip, if you’ve ever had one of those. If you haven’t, just think yummy and smile.

Through it all, there’s an almost Doritos Cooler Ranch quality to the seasoning. I can’t place my finger on it (probably because I was licking them), but there’s a slight tang that just melds everything together. Or maybe it’s just the natural reaction to licking little green herb seasoning off my fingers.

Nabisco Roasted Sweet Onion Brown Rice Baked With Sweet Potato Triscuit Side Box

The box came with a nice little recipe idea for topping my crackers with Gouda and figs, but because I chose a career in writing and editing and don’t have that kind of straight cash money, I settled for some Walmart mozzarella and a few raisins. The cracker did just what it needed to do, contributing the sharp sweet onion flavor and meaty sweet potato back notes to the earthy sweetness of the raisins and milky taste of the cheese. Not overwhelming the topping but still holding its own, my little creation was probably the closest thing I got to an actual meal all week.

Nabisco Roasted Sweet Onion Brown Rice Baked With Sweet Potato Triscuit Topped

Clearly, I’m impressed. So impressed, as a matter of fact, that I’m ready to proclaim this my favorite Triscuit and right up there with some of the best crackers I’ve ever had. What Triscuit has managed to do is create a cracker with one of the greatest textural elements of chips but also the robust flavors of, well, actual food. And they’ve done it with something that’s actually pretty good for me and combines none of that actual cooking stuff. While I can foresee those with a strong aversion to onions taking a pass on these, I think most people will be pleasantly surprised by the entire Brown Rice Triscuit line.

As for pleasing your neighbors at those awkward pre-dinner conversations? Well, you’re completely on your own there.

(Nutrition Facts – 6 crackers – 130 calories, 40 calories from fat, 4.5 grams of fat, 0.5 grams of saturated fat, 0 milligrams of cholesterol, 85milligrams of sodium, 21 grams of carbohydrates, 1 gram of fiber, 1 grams of sugar, and 2 grams of protein.)

Other Roasted Sweet Onion Brown Rice Triscuit reviews:
Junk Food Guy

Item: Nabisco Roasted Sweet Onion Brown Rice Baked With Sweet Potato Triscuit
Purchased Price: $2.50
Size: 9 oz. box
Purchased at: Walmart
Rating: 9 out of 10
Pros: Wonderful and slightly sharp sweet onion flavor balanced by subtle molasses sweetness of earthy whole grains and sweet potato backnotes. Crispy-crunchy-shattery texture like Korean fried chicken. Real food. Whole grains. Doesn’t overpower toppings but can hold its own. Has a Cooler Ranch Doritos vibe for some odd reason.
Cons: Confusing Scott Conant and the anti-onion crowd. Might be a little intense for those who like plain crackers. Not as much fiber or protein as regular Triscuit. Assistant Editors’ salaries. Divisive cracker tastes make for awkward pre-dinner conversation with the neighbors.