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: Post Cocoa Pebbles Treats

Post Cocoa Pebbles Treats

I think Cocoa Pebbles is better than Cocoa Krispies. If you think Cocoa Krispies tastes better than Cocoa Pebbles, we can either agree on our differences or we can determine which is better like gentlemen by filling a kiddie pool with several gallons of milk and a whole lot of Cocoa Pebbles and Cocoa Krispies and wrestling in it. And after I put you in a milky submission hold, I’ll make you say Cocoa Pebbles is the greatest chocolate flavored rice cereal on the face of the Earth.

How much do I think Cocoa Krispies suck? Well, let me drop a little freestyle rap on its ass.

Snap, Crackle and Pop, more like Sucka, Crackhead, and Punk.
I don’t understand why people eat that Cocoa Krispies junk.
It makes Boy Scouts lie and birds fall out of the sky.
It’s the reason why ties go awry and why babies cry.
A spoonful of Cocoa Krispies brings despair and displeasure.
Cocoa Pebbles isn’t just a cereal, it’s a chocolatey treasure.
Ya heard!
Big up!
Word!

Yup, that’s how much love Cocoa Pebbles, so you can imagine how hard my nipples became when I heard about Post releasing Cocoa Pebbles Treats, which was something that was long overdue. It’s as if Post saw the dozens of Cocoa Pebbles treats recipes on the internet and thought, “Hey. We can probably make some money if we did it ourselves. Let’s ask the legal department if we can call them Cocoa Pebbles Treats without
getting Kellogg’s panties in a knot.”

Post Cocoa Pebbles Treats Naked

Each box of Post Cocoa Pebbles Treats comes with eight individually-wrapped marshmallow cereal squares, each of which weighs 22 grams, which is the same as a Kellogg’s Rice Krispies Treat. Its chocolate flavor not only comes from the Cocoa Pebbles cereal, but also the chocolate drizzle on top.

I could see myself getting Fred Flintstone fat eating these Cocoa Pebbles Treats. Although it would take several boxes for me to do so since each one has only 90 calories. But I’m getting there, since I consumed seven of the eight treats over the past 48 hours.

Its texture has the same gooeyness and satisfying crunch as Rice Krispies Treats. The cereal has that familiar chocolatey flavor I know and would wrestle you for, but the marshmallows used as the glue to keep everything together enhances the flavor of the cereal. Its flavor makes me, if I were feeling extra gluttonous, want to grab a box of Cocoa Pebbles Treats, break apart each bar into smaller pieces, stick them in a big bowl, add some milk, grab me the biggest spoon I can find, and then go to town on it like Fred would with a brontosaurus burger or Wilma.

Post’s Cocoa Pebbles Treats are almost everything I hoped they would be. I do wish they were a bit bigger, but what should I expect since they’re made for kids who have small hands and think this is cool. I also wish they didn’t contain partially hydrogenated oils, which gives them trans fats, but less than 0.5 grams, which, according to the FDA, allows them to label them as containing 0 grams of trans fat. Oh crap! I’ve eaten seven of the eight treats over the past 48 hours.

Geez, those last two sentences were such a serious downers. I’ll end with a little freestyle rap instead.

Yo. Post Cocoa Pebbles Treats are crazy delicious.
But trans fat makes them not so nutritious.
Maybe I’ll write a letter to Post and get seditious.
Naw, I’m too lazy. I ain’t that ambitious.
Ya heard!
Big up!
Word!

(Nutrition Facts – 1 bar – 90 calories,15 calories from fat, 2 grams of fat, 1.5 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat*, 0 milligrams of cholesterol, 110 milligrams of sodium, 25 milligrams of potassium, 18 grams of carbohydrates, 0 grams of fiber, 9 grams of sugar, 1 gram of protein, and sad amounts of vitamins and minerals.)

*contains partially hydrogenated oils

Item: Post Cocoa Pebbles Treats
Price: $3.29 (on sale)
Size: 8 bars
Purchased at: Safeway
Rating: 7 out of 10
Pros: Really good. Chocolatey. Has the same gooeyness and satisfying crunch as Rice Krispies Treats. Gluten free. Chocolate drizzle. No high fructose corn syrup. Wrestling in a gigantic bowl of Cocoa Pebbles and milk. Cocoa Pebbles.
Cons: Contains partially hydrogenated oils. Could’ve been bigger. What kids think are cool. My freestyle rap skills. Cocoa Krispies.

REVIEW: Jack in the Box Bourbon BBQ Steak Grilled Sandwich

Jack in the Box Bourbon BBQ Steak Grilled Sandwich

Indecisive people must HATE Jack in the Box.

If I was indecisive, I’d take one look at the vast menu board, feel completely helpless, and then weep. And if the cashier told me I could also choose something from the breakfast menu at two in the afternoon, I would fall to my knees, put my hands on top of my head while it shakes side to side, and then yell, “There’s so much to choose from, I don’t know what I want! Please help me!”

By the time I stopped yelling, Jack in the Box probably would’ve added something new to the menu since it expands faster than the waistlines of those of us who eat Jack in the Box food. Seriously, Jack in the Box is the Cheesecake Factory of fast food chains. Did you know they have funnel cake?

Anyhoo, Jack’s latest addition to the menu board that makes the indecisive pull their hair out is the Bourbon BBQ Steak Grilled Sandwich, which is made up of steak strips, grilled onions, cheese and Jack’s new Bourbon BBQ sauce in between two slices of grilled artisan bread.

Of course, my first thought when I heard about the Bourbon BBQ sauce was whether or not it contained alcohol. I’m pretty sure it doesn’t, but my extremely low tolerance for alcohol, plus my urge to take off pieces of clothing when alcohol is in my system would be an accurate way to find out.

After eating the entire sandwich, no article of clothing was removed, so it seems there’s no alcohol in the BBQ sauce. Although my taste buds could’ve told me that, since the BBQ sauce tasted like any run of the mill sauce. This was disappointing because I hoped it would taste more like licking a drunk than licking a designated driver.

As for the rest of the sandwich, the steak strips were surprisingly tender and there were a lot of them. The grilled onions were a nice touch and complimented the steak well. The cheese seemed to be there to only to act as a glue to make sure the steak strips and onions don’t fall out of the sandwich. The artisan bread wasn’t crispy, it was a little soggy with chewy edges. But at least it wasn’t as greasy as Jack’s other Grilled Sandwiches.

So if you’re an indecisive person staring at the Jack in the Box menu board, I want to let you know that the Jack in the Box Bourbon BBQ Steak Grilled Sandwich was a good sandwich, but I expected more from the featured ingredient, the Bourbon BBQ sauce.

You know what? After rereading that last sentence, I realized it probably won’t help you come to a decision. I’m sorry. You should start weeping now.

(Nutrition Facts – 595 calories, 206 calories from fat, 23 grams of fat, 8 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 80 milligrams of cholesterol, 2022 milligrams of sodium, 495 milligrams of potassium, 62 grams of carbohydrates, 4 grams of fiber, 9 grams of sugar, and 33 grams of protein.)

Item: Jack in the Box Bourbon BBQ Steak Grilled Sandwich
Price: $6.49 (small combo)
Size: N/A
Purchased at: Jack in the Box
Rating: 6 out of 10
Pros: Good, but could’ve been better. Steak strips were tender. Cheese keeps steak strips from falling out. Grilled onion complimented the steak. Bread wasn’t greasy.
Cons: Bourbon BBQ sauce was disappointing. Artisan bread wasn’t crispy. Cheese brings nothing to the table, flavor-wise. An indecisive person staring at a Jack in the Box menu board. The nudity that follows when alcohol is in my system.

REVIEW: Doritos Tapatio and Ruffles Tapatio Limon

Doritos Tapatio and Ruffles Tapatio Limon

Oh, Tapati­o Man on the hot sauce label. We’ve been flirting with each other for years. Don’t try to deny it; every time we meet, you’re wearing your best mustard-colored jacket and jaunty red…ascot thing. Don’t even get me started on that impossibly wide sombrero that appears to have the circumference of an ancient Redwood. And above your ecstatic smile, that immaculate mustache that just screams, “Wanna ride?”

Yes, we’ve been meeting up for lunch for years now. Maybe it’s over burgers or pasta. You’ve saved countless pizza crusts from being thrown away when we had a three-way with some ranch dressing. It’s an open relationship; I’ve been with other hot sauces. But when I’m drunk and it’s 3 am, you’re always my booty call of choice.

Tapati­o Man is free to see other foods, too, which is why I wasn’t offended when I found out he’s been hanging with three new Frito-Lay products: Fritos Tapati­o, Doritos Tapati­o and Ruffles Tapati­o Limon. I’ve already checked out how Fritos and Tapati­o work together, which will actually help this review, because Fritos are the only chip that went straight Tapati­o on yo’ ass. The Doritos have a Nacho Cheese base, and the Ruffles get hot and heavy with Tapati­o and Limon. Two accented letters in one chip name, that’s serious business. That’s c/p into a Notepad file so I don’t have to reference the char map 1700 times business.

Tapati­o Man is cool, so he let me get in on this action. I can tell because he’s staring right into my eyes from the packages, giving me that smile that says…

Wait a second, what’s this?

Doritos Tapatio Man

WHO ARE YOU LOOKING AT FROM THE DORITOS PACKAGE, TAPATiO MAN? WHO ARE YOU FLASHING YOUR PEARLY WHITES AT, JUST TO THE RIGHT OF ME?!

Okay, so I still have some jealousy issues. Seriously though, what is up with that? On the original hot sauce label (yes, I actually do have a bottle of Tapati­o on hand at all times, I’m not frontin’) he’s staring straight ahead, just like on the Ruffles bag. Why are his eyes askew on the Doritos bag? Printing error? Were people in the Doritos focus group intimidated by Tapati­o Man’s ability to see into your soul, so they averted his eyes? I love a good food packaging mystery. Can’t dwell on it forever though; let’s take a mustache ride straight to Sabritastown.

Doritos Tapati­o

Doritos Tapatio

At first glance, Tapati­o Doritos look angry. Angry like, I will make you regret eating these when you wake up at 3 am and have to run to the bathroom angry. Fortunately, their bark is worse than their bite. Oh yeah, there’s some heat there, but it’s not out of control. I’ve had Doritos 3rd Degree Burn Scorchin’ Habanero, and those are hot. Tapati­o Doritos bring a good amount of heat, but not enough to make steam come out of your ears. Assuming you’re a cartoon character.

You can definitely taste the nacho cheese base, which works well with the spicy heat of the Tapati­o powder, which, by the way, will stain your fingers so that everyone knows you’ve been eating red-colored chips. My problem with these chips, however, is that they don’t really taste like Tapati­o. I’ve never tried Flamin’ Hot Doritos, but now I wish I had, because I have a sneaking suspicion they would have tasted remarkably similar to Tapati­o Doritos. They just lack that distinct flavor that I love so much in the hot sauce. They could have been called Extra Spicy Nacho Cheese and I would have nodded and said, “Yep, that’s it.”

Ruffles Tapati­o Limon

Ruffles Tapatio Limon

Doritos just gets a picture of a bottle of Tapati­o on its bag, but Ruffles gets a full makeover, running wild with blue and orange and wavy borders and everything. This may seem unusual for Ruffles, but you have to remember that the Tapati­o line of chips also falls under the Sabritas line, which is what I guess you could call a subsidiary of Frito-Lay. I know, it’s confusing. Just know that Sabritas aims at the Mexican market, so they do things a little differently. The Tapati­o Ruffles bag is designed just like the Sabritas Ruffles Queso bag, which you can see here, complete with words you probably don’t understand and some confusing but entertaining spy music. Dios Mio!

Ruffles Tapati­o Limon’s twist is obviously the limon, which I figured meant lime (what with the slice of lime on the bag and all), but Google Translate says means lemon. Maybe they’re Sprite flavored! No wait, that’s lymon. Nevermind.

One of my favoritest snack foods is Flamin’ Hot Cheetos Limon. Unfortunately, that same twang that works on the Cheetos doesn’t seem to work well on Ruffles. There seems to be a little less heat on these chips than were on the Doritos, but it’s impossible to tell if it has true Tapati­o flavor because the limon is too overpowering. The citrus flavor puckered my mouth, which is fine if I’m challenging my palate by sucking on an Extreme Sour Warhead, but not when I’m eating a potato chip.

It’s difficult to rate Doritos Tapati­o. On the one hand, it works perfectly well as a spicy, cheese tortilla chip. On the other hand, that heat is supposed to come in the form of Tapati­o hot sauce flavoring, and I can’t really say it delivers on that point, so they technically failed, which is ultimately how I have to judge them. Ruffles Tapati­o Limon are easier to pass judgment on; I had high hopes for them, but instead of a spicy Tapati­o-flavored chip with a hint of limon, I got an overly citrus-flavored potato chip with a little heat on it. I don’t mind Tapati­o Man hanging out with other foods, but I wish he’d pick better company.

(Nutrition Facts – 1 ounce – Doritos Tapati­o – 1 ounce, 140 calories, 70 calories from fat, 8 grams of total fat, 1.5 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 0 milligrams of cholesterol, 170 milligrams of sodium, 16 grams of total carbohydrates, 1 gram of dietary fiber, 3 grams of sugars, 2 grams of protein, 4% vitamin A, 0% calcium, 0% vitamin C, 2% iron, 2% Thiamin, 2% vitamin B6. Ruffles Tapati­o Limon – 160 calories, 90 calories from fat, 10 grams of total fat, 1 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 2.5 grams of polyunsaturated fat, 5 grams of monounsaturated fat, 0 milligrams of cholesterol, 190 milligrams of sodium, 320 milligrams of potassium, 15 grams of total carbohydrates, 1 gram of dietary fiber, 1 grams of sugars, 2 grams of protein, 0% vitamin A, 0% calcium, 10% vitamin C, 2% iron, 4% Thiamin, 8% vitamin B6, 6% vitamin E, 4% niacin.)

Item: Doritos Tapati­o and Ruffles Tapati­o Limon
Price: $0.99 each
Size: 2 1/8 ounces (Doritos Tapati­o)
Size: 1 3/4 ounces ( Ruffles Tapati­o Limon)
Purchased at: Circle K
Rating: 6 out of 10 (Doritos Tapati­o)
Rating: 3 out of 10 (Ruffles Tapati­o Limon)
Pros: Doritos had a nice cheese/heat combination. Tapati­o Man and his sexy mustard jacket. Ruffles had okay heat. Mustache rides.
Cons: Ruffles had overpowering citrus flavor. Red flavor powder staining fingers. Couldn’t detect any real Tapati­o flavor. Tapati­o Man making bad partnership choices.

REVIEW: Ben & Jerry’s Late Night Snack

Ben & Jerry’s Late Night Snack Ice Cream

Pot smokers, couch-dwelling sports fans, and menstruaters rejoice! Sweet and salty have been reduced to their lowest common denominators and magically recombined to form the freaky wonder that is Ben & Jerry’s Late Night Snack ice cream.

Hell, provided it’s available in your immediate area and you’re as curiosity-driven as I am, you’ve probably already tried the stuff. It has been a little while, and this ice cream is a smidge high profile, on account of the late night talk circuit involvement. I, for one, am willing to throw caution to the wind and try anything Stephen Colbert claims is tasty. I see this as one fun and easy way to fulfill my monthly patriotic acts quota. I’m now just one eagle cuddle away from being done for April!

Sorry to be late for 420 day, too, but I’m guessing most of the dedicated celebrants out there will understand. Any time can be munchies time. It’s all relative, and it’s all good.

I’ve been jogging my ass off to make up for all these ice cream reviews. Somehow Late Night Snack just feels more hip-widening than Ben & Jerry’s other offerings, even though it really isn’t any worse. Every pint they produce is already verging on a caloric supernova. If they tried adding any more, I’m pretty sure their products would explode, and then slowly begin absorbing everything else in the freezer aisle, from the neighboring Häagen-Dazs all the way to the Hungry Man entrees. Anyone brave enough to try a spoonful would instantly blow up like the Stay Puft marshmallow man. As is, it takes at least two pints of the stuff to attain that kind of comical weight gain. Not that I know.

Maybe, and I’m just throwing this hypothesis out there, the riotously calorie-rich issue at hand is the chocolate covered potato chip clusters. Similar to a rice crispy treat in texture, fresh deer poo in appearance, and a chocolate drenched kettle chip in flavor, they’re sprinkled liberally and fairly evenly throughout the ice cream like little treasure nuggets. I have a feeling South Park’s Chef would either highly approve of these salty balls or sue the company for stealing his lucrative vision.

Ben & Jerry’s Late Night Snack Ice Cream Bowl

The clusters are surrounded by a protective chocolatey armor roughly the texture and thickness of the outside of a Butterfinger bar, which sometimes manages to preserve a good crunch but more often than not fails, allowing the sogginess to creep in as the ice cream thaws. This is sad, because the crunchy clusters are far tastier than their squishier friends. I felt compelled to shovel the ice cream in faster and finish the pint in one sitting just to preserve the little balls of joy.

The base for this tour de force is vanilla ice cream, with a salty caramel swirl which I found to be kind of thin in places. I would happily eat these two elements on their own, but that flavor would probably be a store brand, gallon-size-only offering in this Xtreme day and age. If wanted to go that route, I might as well buy a Costco-sized drum of Neapolitan and softly lull my taste buds into an eternal frozen slumber. Ben & Jerry’s leads the pack, time and again, ratcheting the ice cream norm up about ten notches, I suspect through controlled exposure to sandalwood essence and the tunes of Iron and Wine, plus a pinch of good, old-fashioned stoner ingenuity. No spoon? No problem. You’ve got Fritos. They’re sturdy AND 100 percent more edible. BAM. A food revolution is born.

Ben & Jerry’s Late Night Snack Ice Cream Container

Initially, the flavor is a nice blend of chocolate, vanilla, and caramel with a salty edge. But the aftertaste? As long as you manage to scoop up a cluster or two, it’s pure potato chip. Somehow the two never clash or overlap. They just peacefully and deliciously co-exist. The world could learn a thing or two from this ice cream. Namely, that the key to harmony lies in coating everything in chocolate and then adding salt. Lots of salt. I apologize again to the lactose intolerant community. Attaining world peace is going to be a bit tougher for you guys.

The biggest problem arises when you stop eating this ice cream, because the sweet amalgam is no longer there to continuously balance out the potato chip essence, which lingers. Everything about this flavor practically begs for continual consumption. If you notice my giant pasty form lumbering through the streets of New York sometime soon, sporting a jaunty sailor’s cap and little else, well, you know who to call. What? Wait, no. The authorities. Call the authorities.

(Nutrition Facts – ½ cup – 270 calories, 140 calories from fat, 15 grams of fat, 10 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 60 milligrams of cholesterol, 170 milligrams of sodium, 31 grams of carbohydrates, 0 grams of fiber, 21 grams of sugar, 4 grams of protein, 10% vitamin A, 10% calcium, 0% vitamin C, and 0% iron.)
Item: Ben & Jerry’s Late Night Snack
Price: $3.99
Size: 1 Pint
Purchased at: Albertson’s
Rating: 8 out of 10
Pros: Salted caramel. Eagle cuddling. Fresh, unthawed chocolate covered potato chip clusters. Ice cream by the drum, in theory. Stoner ingenuity. Jaunty sailor caps. Ben & Jerry’s not skimping on the clusters. Frito-based revolutions.
Cons: Deer crap ice cream. Caloric black holes. Soggy potato chip balls. The lingering, persistent aftertaste of soggy potato chip balls. Ice cream by the drum, in practice. Becoming the Stay Puft mascot. Caramel swirl thins out in places. Lactose intolerant community unable to participate in my vision of world peace.

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