REVIEW: Kellogg’s Eggo Thick & Fluffy Waffles (Original & Cinnamon Brown Sugar)

Kellogg's Eggo Thick & Fluffy Original Waffles

Borrowing things from overseas to sell on our shores is a tricky business. As with any translation, we run the risk of not getting it quite right. Like turning the infinitely-watchable E4 series Skins into a show that no one (save for The Parents Television Council who wants to kill it with fire) cares to watch… or transforming the delicioso Mexican corn-cake-style gordita into the well-known and often-devoured Taco Bell Gordita that is basically a taco made with pita bread. How they made the leap to the Middle East by way of Mexico, I have no idea. I guess, to them, foreign food is foreign food. We’re lucky they didn’t try to stuff haggis in there.

The process of repackaging these things for consumption in the United States is clearly an attempt to make them more palatable for Americans, however unrecognizable they become. But it doesn’t explain why Kellogg’s would revise the Belgian waffle for their Eggo brand by making them toaster-sized instead of plate-sized and octagonal instead of round (or square) and calling them “Thick & Fluffy ” waffles. Did they think consumers wouldn’t understand these waffles if they used the word “Belgian”? They’ve been around for 50 years. I think we get it. Semantics aside, what it really comes down to is whether the waffles have deep pockets and taste good. For the most part, they do.

Eggo Thick & Fluffy waffles come in two flavor varieties: Cinnamon Brown Sugar and Original Recipe. The name “Original Recipe” conjures up visions of crispy, golden fried chicken offered by string-tied Southern gentlemen with dubious military origins, yet as a Roscoe’s devotee, I can attest to the fact that fried chicken does pair well with waffles. Maybe this title wasn’t unintentional.

The Original Recipe waffle was exceptional. It has a certain extra something (probably sodium) that makes the waffle taste extra malty. I scoured the ingredients list and didn’t see anything about malt, though, so I could just be imagining it. Maybe my previous experiences with other Belgian fluffy and thick waffles created an expectation for malt flavor.

Kellogg's Eggo Thick & Fluffy Cinnamon Brown Sugar Waffles

On the flip side, I was all ready to love the Cinnamon Brown Sugar waffle, being the brown sugar & cinnamon addict that I am, but it was just OK. The flavor just doesn’t “pop.” It’s not super sweet, but it’s also not very cinnamon-y. Blah Sugar. Cinna-Zzzzz. The experience is underwhelming. Way to not be an enabler, Kellogg’s. I’m one step closer to recovery.

Despite the fact that it’s a toaster waffle, I was expecting preparation to be a breeze. Logistically, it is pretty easy. Place in toaster… Toast… The End. But the toasting instructions specify that you may need to use two toasting cycles in order to evenly heat the waffle. That’s far too long for a toaster-based convenience breakfast. I hate double-toasting. It ruins the feeling of relief you experience once the toaster pops up because as soon as it does, you just have to push it back down again and start all over. It’s totally defeating. Bad way to start the day.

Kellogg's Eggo Thick & Fluffy Cinnamon Brown Sugar Waffle Naked

Another negative is that even though these are Thicker & Fluffier, they don’t make you feel any fuller — just the opposite. The extra carbs and sugar you ingest in the thicker waffle make you crash faster… and if you double-up on the serving size (eating two waffles instead of one), it just makes things worse.

That’s another thing. The serving size is just one waffle, but the box shows two. WHY MUST YOU TOY WITH MY EMOTIONS, EGGO??? Sorry, that’s the cinnamon brown sugar withdrawal talking.

I appreciate Eggo’s take on Belgian waffles, though the Original Recipe flavor makes a tastier breakfast than the Cinnamon Brown Sugar one. They should try making crépes next… though they’ll probably call them “Eggo Thin & Flat Pancakes.” How gauche.

(Nutrition Facts – 1 waffle/55 grams – Original Recipe – 160 calories, 70 calories from fat, 7 grams of fat, 2 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 3.5 grams of polyunsaturated fat, 1.5 grams of monounsaturated fat, 0 milligrams of cholesterol, 300 milligrams of sodium, 50 milligrams of potassium, 20 grams of carbohydrates, >1 gram of fiber, 3 grams of sugar, and 4 grams of protein. Cinnamon Brown Sugar – 170 calories, 60 calories from fat, 7 grams of fat, 2 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 3 grams of polyunsaturated fat, 1.5 grams of monounsaturated fat, 0 milligrams of cholesterol, 270 milligrams of sodium, 50 milligrams of potassium, 24 grams of carbohydrates, >1 gram of fiber, 9 grams of sugar and 3 grams of protein.)

Item: Kellogg’s Eggo Thick & Fluffy Waffles (Original & Cinnamon Brown Sugar)
Price: $2.00 (on sale)
Size: 11.6 oz
Purchased at: Vons
Rating: 10 out of 10 (Original Recipe)
Rating: 6 out of 10 (Cinnamon Brown Sugar)
Pros: Corn cakes. Southern gentlemen. Invisible malt. Octagons.
Cons: Witch hunts. Haggis. Understanding waffles. Boring me with cinnamon. The long toast. Small serving size.

REVIEW: Starbucks Artisan Bacon, Egg & Gouda Breakfast Sandwich

Starbucks Artisan Bacon, Egg & Gouda Breakfast Sandwich

As a non-coffee drinker, I’ve never had a particularly close relationship with Starbucks.  I know many of you reading this have connected with them in a deep, meaningful way I’ll never truly understand, like the bond between a man and his dog, or occasionally his wife.  I admire that, but there’s no reason for me to pay three dollars for a small hot chocolate when Swiss Miss is free at work.  (With OR without marshmallows!)  That being said, I don’t have anything against Starbucks, beyond the vaguely sinister-looking logo.  Their willingness to keep charging high prices in the midst of a massive recession was ballsy to the point of being almost endearing, and they really know how to tie a Barnes & Noble together.

So when they recently began offering Artisan breakfast sandwiches, I seized on it as a way to join the java junkies and really get the full Starbucks experience.  There are currently two varieties of sandwiches — I chose Bacon, Egg & Gouda because the soul is what makes it taste good, but those who claim dominion over plants but not yummy, yummy animals have their own option with Veggie, Egg, & Monterey Jack.  Vegans, sorry to say, are S.O.L.; apparently that’s a demographic Starbucks feels they can do without, at least until they roll out their Lentils, Gravel & Soy sandwich next quarter.  What makes it “Artisan” is the use of fresh ciabatta bread, which has the dual quality of being fun to say and automatically adding a dollar to the price.

All kidding aside, the bread IS good.  I would’ve been fine with just a biscuit because that’s the kind of low-brow guy I am, but it smells delicious and manages to be crispy but not hard on the outside and soft on the inside.  You may rest assured your barista isn’t just slapping some stale wonder bread left over from her kid’s lunch on your plate.  (Well, maybe yours is.  Perhaps you should consider tipping more than a buck every third visit, hmm?)  It’s also offset well by the bacon, which isn’t spilling out every side but still manages to seem pretty plentiful.  That’s key, because a common lament of food that aspires toward being more gourmet (even just a little) is that they tend to bolster the quality of the ingredients at the expense of quantity, with meat often being the first casualty.  You’re not going to feel like you’re eating a whole pig, but he’ll know you were there, by God.

Starbucks Artisan Bacon, Egg & Gouda Breakfast Sandwich Half

The cheese also comes through in a big way, partnering with the bacon to make your mouth salivate even as somewhere the Grim Reaper knocks another three pegs off your “Days ’till first heart attack” tally.  If any element is underrepresented, it would have to be the egg.  There’s nothing wrong with it, it just doesn’t pack nearly the smell or the taste of its more aggressive sandwich-mates.  And you can’t really blame this on Starbucks (okay, maybe the barista), but when I broke it in half, all of the bacon and most of the egg ended up on one side, which is kind of like having a rollicking threesome with Scarlett Johansson and Cloris Leachman — yes, technically it’s still a threesome, but you’re really better off just splitting the difference.

A final word of caution — the pictures make it hard to judge scale, but these are not massive sandwiches.  The bread is roughly five by five inches, so think of it more as a tasty mini-meal to help you power through a morning of inane coworker babble, rather than something that’s going to enable you to skip lunch.  (That’s what the schnapps in your lower left desk drawer is for.  Don’t worry, your boss doesn’t know.  Yet.)  If it were a little larger and a little cheaper I’d be able to recommend it even more highly, but as is, it’s still delicious.  Anyone used to paying Starbucks prices already probably won’t mind, but if you’re strictly a Dunkin’ Donuts kind of person, this is not the largest quantity of food you could get for your money.  Though from what I understand, pairing it with a 12-ounce coffee will net you a pretty good discount on both, so… yep, hosed again.

(Nutrition Facts – 1 sandwich – 350 calories, 18 grams of fat, 7 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 170 milligrams of cholesterol, 840 milligrams of sodium, 30 grams of carbohydrates, 0 grams of fiber, 1 gram of sugar and 17 grams of protein.)

Item: Starbucks Artisan Bacon, Egg & Gouda Breakfast Sandwich
Price: $3.45 ($3.95 w/ 12 oz. coffee)
Size: N/A
Purchased at: Starbucks
Rating: 8 out of 10
Pros: Non-coffee drinkers have a reason to visit Starbucks.  Enhancing Barnes & Nobles.  Sandwich options for both conscienceless murderers and hippie wimps.  Smells as good as it tastes.  Does not skimp on bacon.  Hiding booze at work.
Cons: Illuminati logo.  Vegans shafted again.  Damn well better be gourmet for what you’re paying.  Gross threesomes.  Only a full breakfast if you weigh 110 pounds.

REVIEW: Trident Vitality Vigorate Gum

Trident Vitality Vigorate Gum

One piece of Trident Vitality Vigorate gum has ten percent of our daily recommended intake of vitamin C.

What!?! Where was this during the 17th and 18th centuries?

If only I could travel back in time to when the East India Trading Company existed so that I could be a crew member aboard one of their East Indiaman merchant ships that were used to deliver cotton, silk, spices, tea, and opium to England. With this Trident Vitality Vigorate gum in hand, I would be prepared to prevent scurvy, while probably high on opium and wrapped in a silk Indian sari. And I could laugh like Nelson Muntz at my fellow shipmates as their teeth fall out and pus-filled wounds form on their skin.

Haw-Haw!

Although, at only ten percent vitamin C per piece, it’s not a great source of vitamin C, but what can I expect from a piece of gum. Of course, if you or I were to go through a pack as quickly as a chain smoker goes through a pack of Marlboro Lights or Charlie Sheen goes through a pack of prostitutes, the nine pieces in each pack would easily give us almost a full day’s worth of vitamin C.

Trident Vitality Vigorate Gum 2

The Trident Vitality Vigorate gum has “a burst of citrus and strawberry” which comes in the form of a naturally and artificially flavored liquid center in each piece. While it says “a burst of citrus and strawberry”, I think a more accurate description would be a burst of orange and a smidgeon of strawberry. Or if you want the Food Network version of the description, it would be a BAM! of orange and a pinch of strawberry.

After about a minute of chewing, the gum provides a slight cooling sensation and the intensity of the gum’s flavor starts to significantly drop after the three minute mark. After that, you’re left to experience a light fruity flavor until your jaw can’t take it anymore or until you chew the orangy bejesus out of the gum.

Overall, I like the flavor of the Trident Vitality Vigorate gum, but I don’t see myself buying it again. I think its gimmick of having ten percent of my daily recommended intake of vitamin C doesn’t work because there are many tastier, and more effective, ways to get enough vitamin C to make me scurvy-proof.

For example, eating a large McDonald’s fries with five packets of ketchup will give me 30 percent of my recommended vitamin C. Snacking on a pack of Skittles will provide almost a full day’s worth of vitamin C. Drinking almost any VitaminWater flavor will give me 100 percent vitamin C per cup. Or if an orange accidentally fell into my shopping cart because I ran into the orange stand at the grocery store while being a rubberneck as I stared at the bacon, I could just eat that.

(Nutrition Facts – 1 piece – less than 5 calories, 0 grams of fat, 0 milligrams of sodium, 2 grams of carbohydrates, 0 grams of sugar, 2 grams of sugar alcohol, 0 grams of protein, and 10% vitamin C.)

Item: Trident Vitality Vigorate Gum
Price: $1.19
Size: 9 pieces
Purchased at: Target
Rating: 6 out of 10
Pros: Pleasant orange flavor with a hint of strawberry. It has ten percent of my daily recommend intake of vitamin C. I like the box. Maintains its flavor for a decent amount of time. Skittles contains vitamin C.
Cons: Strawberry flavor could’ve been stronger. It has ONLY ten percent of my daily recommended intake of vitamin C. Made with a bunch of sweeteners (acesulfame potassium, maltitol, sorbitol, aspartame, and sucralose). Scurvy. Grocery store accidents. Being in a hotel room with Charlie Sheen.

REVIEW: Kellogg’s Nutri-Grain Superfruit Fusion Cherry Pomegranate

Nutri-Grain Cherry Pomegranate Superfruit Fusion Bars

Super powers come in varying degrees. You have your laser-breath and invisibility on one end of the spectrum, and on the other you’ve got typing 200 words per minute and psychically communicating with tropical birds. Where does Kellogg’s Nutri-Grain Superfruit Fusion Cherry Pomegranate fit in? Well, it’s complicated.

From the front of the box, one would be led to believe that both fruits hold equal footing, a kind of dynamic duo of breakfast treats, but the text on the back of the package tells another story: “We’ve taken traditional fruit and blended it with superfruit flavors (bold text comes from them, not me).

It appears that ol’ cherry with its artful stem knotting and crude virginity joke inducing powers is being nudged slowly into retirement to make way for pomegranate which, according to certain rumor mills, possesses a hypnotic stare and an arsenal of secondhand batarangs. Cherry has gone all mellow and senile but the higher-ups aren’t about to can him outright because he has so much knowledge left to impart, including the passwords to all of the Nutrigrainland computers.

One taste of these snack bars and you’ll know it’s true. That little bit of an edge cherry used to have? Gone. In its place? Subdued, confidence-lacking pomegranate. And when their powers combine they form something in the same flavor family as a sugar-dulled cranberry.

Both flavors are threatened by the gooey machinations of the highly controversial Mad Dr. Corn Syrup. As usual, our heroes manage to persevere in spite of the odds. Unfortunately, it becomes impossible to taste the subtle flavors of truth, justice, and the American way with everything else going on.

Nutri-Grain Cherry Pomegranate Superfruit Fusion Bars Innards

As for the super whole grain, nutrient-fortified outer shell, which Kellogg’s is now calling a “crust”, well, Fortress of Solitude it is not. It’s actually much crumblier than the regular Nutri-Grain shell, but still soft enough to not actually feel like what I would traditionally consider a “crust”. It tastes like maybe they got a hold of some dried out Trader Joe’s Walks into a Bar shells and sprinkled wheat chafe on top. While tasty, the casing has a tendency to fall apart and crush everything inside with no regard for the distinctions of hero and villain. There’s definitely a gritty reboot of a lesson hidden somewhere deep within this breakfast.

So on the super spectrum this ranks right up there with Elastigirl’s stretchiness or Robin’s hand-me-down range of bat-gadgets. It’s a secondary hero of a breakfast food. I’d certainly trust it to get my cat out of a tree or discreetly spy on my neighbors, but if the world were ending at eight in the morning, I’d still either flash the Odwalla signal or phone up oatmeal.

Would I buy this again? Maybe if I found it on sale, otherwise I’d take a pass. While the super bars managed to make one morning way more compelling than usual, I’m just not sure how well they’d hold up to repeated breakfasting.

(Nutrition Facts – 1 bar – 130 calories, 30 calories from fat, 3 grams of fat, 0.5 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 0 milligrams of cholesterol, 85 milligrams of sodium, 25 grams of carbohydrates, 3 grams of fiber, 13 grams of sugar, 2 grams of protein, 15% vitamin A, 20% calcium, 20% Vitamin E, 25% Riboflavin, 25% Vitamin B6, 10% zinc, 20% vitamin C, 15% thiamin, 25% niacin, 10% folic acid, and 10% iron.)

Item: Kellogg’s Nutri-Grain Superfruit Fusion Cherry Pomegranate
Price: 2/$5.00 (on sale)
Size: 6 bars
Purchased at: Schnuck’s
Rating: 7 out of 10
Pros: Laser breath in a battle situation. Pomegranate and cherry working in harmony to defeat evil. Nice jam texture. Yummy without overwhelming sweetness. On board with the whole grain fad. Tastes more naturally derived than regular Nutri-Grain bars.
Cons: Laser breath in a non-battle situation. The bird psychic end of the super spectrum. Outer crust makes for a terrible secret lair. Truth and justice flavors undetectable. Crumbs and wheat chafe. Verges on mundane. Not actually that much more “natural” than its non-super snack bar cousins. Unable to save the world.

REVIEW: McDonald’s Chipotle BBQ Bacon Angus Third Pounder

McDonald's Chipotle BBQ Bacon Angus Third Pounder

Besides helping to increase toilet paper usage more than other foods, using the same ingredients to create new menu items is what Taco Bell does best. But it appears McDonald’s took a page from Taco Bell’s playbook when they came up with their Chipotle BBQ Bacon Angus Third Pounder.

The latest addition to the McDonald’s Angus Third Pounder lineup combines the 100 percent Angus patty, bun, bacon, cheese, onion and pickles from a Bacon & Cheese Angus Third Pounder with the Chipotle BBQ sauce McDonald’s includes in their Chipotle BBQ Chicken Snack Wrap.

I didn’t expect McDonald’s, the 800-pound gorilla of the fast food world, who by the way probably got to 800 pounds by eating McDonald’s food, to stoop to the same level as the company who couldn’t be honest enough to name their Fourthmeal, which happens between late night drinking and breakfast, what it really is — Drunkfast.

Just like all of the other Angus Third Pounder burgers, the Chipotle BBQ Bacon Angus Third Pounder has a bit of heft thanks to the meaty 100 percent Angus beef patty. Or maybe they feel heavy because the only regular arm exercise I get is lifting 20-ounce bottles of Pepsi Max. The Angus patty is, by far, better tasting meat than what’s offered with other McDonald’s burgers. Too bad its flavor gets lost in this burger.

McDonald's Chipotle BBQ Bacon Angus Third Pounder Booyah

The Chipotle BBQ sauce is one of the main ingredients of the Chipotle BBQ Bacon Angus Third Pounder, but it’s also the burger’s main problem.

The Chipotle BBQ sauce is like a telenovela without the sensuality — all flavor, almost no heat. But that was to be expected since the McDonald’s Chipotle BBQ Snack Wrap also isn’t spicy. While it may not provide any heat, what it does have is a sweet and smoky flavor. However, that sweet and smoky flavor dominates the Angus beef and all of the other burger’s ingredients, because it appears the burger jockeys in the McDonald’s kitchens have their sauce guns set to splooge.

The burger also come with three strips of bacon, pickles, red onions, and cheese, but, again, the chipotle BBQ sauce doesn’t allow any of them much face time, just like I’m not giving them much attention by only talking about them in this one sentence paragraph.

The Chipotle BBQ Bacon Angus Third Pounder is my least favorite Angus Third Pounder variety. Not only is its flavor disappointing, but also its lack of creativity. What was so impressive about the original Angus Third Pounders was that McDonald’s was able to take a giant leap away from what we thought a McDonald’s burger should be, with better beef and colorful, fresh ingredients. They’ve shown they can make that leap and create a decent burger, so I’m disappointed all they could do is swap condiments to make something new. All they’re showing now is that they perhaps no longer want to take leaps, just baby steps.

Just like Taco Bell.

(Nutrition Facts – Not available on website. But I’m pretty sure it contains trans fat and enough sodium to make dogs want to lick you when you sweat.)

Other McDonald’s Chipotle BBQ Bacon Angus Third Pounder Reviews:
Grub Grade
Brand Eating
An Immovable Feast

Item: McDonald’s Chipotle BBQ Bacon Angus Third Pounder
Price: $6.99
Size: Regular Value Meal
Purchased at: McDonald’s
Rating: 5 out of 10
Pros: Great if you’re really sick of the other Angus Third Pounder varieties. Three decent sized slices of bacon. Angus beef patty. Hefty burger. Pepsi Max. The original Angus Third Pounders.
Cons: Chipotle BBQ sauce brought no heat, and it’s sweet and smoky flavor dominated all of the other ingredients. Setting sauce guns to splooge. Swapping condiments isn’t very creative. McDonald’s take a page from the Taco Bell playbook.

Scroll to Top