NEWS: Experience Hard Versions of Your Favorite Soft Baked Goods With Rold Gold’s Bakery-Inspired Pretzel Flavors

Bagels

When I worked in an office setting, soft baked goods were consumed on a regular basis at the mandatory morning work meeting. You’d think the carbohydrates in the baked goods would give me the energy to power through the mandatory morning work meeting that I felt was completely unproductive, but they did the opposite. I guess eating a Costco chocolate muffin the size of my head would put most to sleep.

Although I don’t work in an office setting anymore, I wonder if I would’ve been able to stay awake in those meeting and not repeat over and over in my head “This is a waste of time” with Rold Gold’s Bakery-Inspired Pretzels, which take the flavors from our favorite soft baked goods and encapsulates them in a hard pretzel form.

The new line of Rold Gold pretzels come in three baked goods-flavored varieties:

Cheesy Garlic – Pretzel nuggets with cheddar and garlic.

Cinnamon Raisin – Pretzel twists with the flavor of raisins and cinnamon sugar.

Everything Bagel – Pretzel rings with sesame and poppy seeds, garlic, and onions.

A one-ounce serving of the Cheesy Garlic has 110 calories, 2 grams of fat, 390 milligrams of sodium, 20 grams of carbohydrates, less than 1 gram of fiber, less than 1 gram of sugar and 2 grams of protein. The Everything Bagel has 120 calories, 2.5 grams of fat, 1.5 grams of polyunsaturated fat, 1 gram of monounsaturated fat, 390 milligrams of sodium, 22 grams of carbohydrates, 2 grams of fiber, less than 1 gram of sugar and 3 grams of protein. Finally, the Cinnamon Raisin contains 110 calories, 2 grams of fat, 0 milligrams of cholesterol, 290 milligrams of sodium, 21 grams of carbohydrates, less than 1 gram of fiber, 4 grams of sugar, and 2 grams of protein. All three varieties have no artificial flavors, preservatives, MSG, or trans fat.

Source: Frito Lay Snacks Blog

REVIEW: Quiznos Prime Rib on Garlic Bread Sandwich

Quiznos Prime Rib on Garlic Bread

There are few things more appealing to a man than the prospect of a well-made sandwich.  An extra hour of sleep.  A come hither look from his wife or girlfriend, or casual female friend, or that woman who winked at him in a bar on June 18, 2003, who may or may not have had something in her eye.  A YouTube video of monkeys smoking and throwing poop.  Ladies, take a lesson. If you want your man to do something, be it overthrowing your brother or finally taking down those Christmas lights (plus light-up dreidel and menorah), be waiting in his bed with smoky eyes, a video of monkeys fighting, and a grilled cheese and bacon sandwich.  It worked for Cleopatra and it will work for you.

So needless to say, I was looking forward to Quiznos’ Prime Rib on Garlic Bread sandwich.  I don’t frequent Quiznos often because there’s only one nearby and they’re a bit on the pricier side, but I’ve always enjoyed their food when I’ve eaten there, and how can you go wrong with prime rib and garlic bread? Admittedly I was expecting it to be made with actual garlic bread, which I still maintain would be awesome.  Instead it’s regular bread with garlic aioli sauce liberally (depending on your server) spread across it.  This has the effect of giving the sandwich a garlic smell, and the flavor of the sauce is definitely in the garlic family, but not as bold or in-your-face as pure garlic.  More refined, if that makes any sense, a smoother garlic taste, like if you’re used to drinking IPAs and someone slides you a wheat beer.

Apologies to any non-alcoholics who don’t get that reference.

Note that it also comes with lettuce and tomato. They’re not pictured because Drew does not do healthy things.  Hilariously, as soon as I pulled out my camera to take the photographs, the woman who prepared the sandwich came over like eight times to make sure it tasted good and wasn€™t too burnt.  My fault, I guess, for not wearing a sign saying “I AM NOT A QUIZNOS CORPORATE SPY SENT TO EVALUATE YOUR SANDWICH-MAKING SKILLS, I AM A LOWLY FOOD BLOGGER WHO WILL NOT BE DISCLOSING YOUR SPECIFIC LOCATION.”  I still have a lot to learn, I€™m afraid.

Quiznos Prime Rib on Garlic Bread Innards

The amount of prime rib in the sandwich is what I would describe as perfectly adequate.  (Unlike the sodium, which is impressively obscene.)  At no point did I find myself biting down on nothing but
bread, like a teenager finding out his date’s bra is filled with Kleenex; but neither was I ever pleasantly surprised by the sheer quantity, like realizing she’s been wearing a sports bra all evening. You might be able to finagle a little extra meat if you’re more attractive than I am, or if you throw in a little hip shake or some free tickets to the gun show.  Still, what was there was flavorful, and they didn’t skimp on the cheese.  

The bread was, of course, toasted and made for a nice contrast with the creamy garlic sauce.  The edges got a little blackened, as you can see; I don’t mind a little char myself, but be on the lookout if you’re not okay with that.  I’ll offer that the sauce could maybe have been spread out a bit better — in some bites it overpowered the prime rib flavor, in others I could barely taste it — but again, that’s more attributable to your individual sandwich preparer.  (No, I will not call them “artists” until they use my tax dollars to create something that A) doesn’t look like anything, and B) is colossally ugly.  Veggie subs don’t count.)

Overall, the garlic sauce manages to complement the meat and cheese nicely to create a good sandwich. I’d like to give it a higher score, but that price is just ludicrous for the size of what you’re getting. I know Quiznos brands itself as the “high end” fast food sub joint, but while the sandwich WAS tasty and I’m presuming the meat was taken from only the most pampered, humanely euthanized cows, there is absolutely no way you should be paying $5.49 plus tax for a 6-inch sandwich.  (It’s also available in medium and large sizes, which undoubtedly come with paperwork for the mortgages necessary to buy them.) I reserve the right to change that score if I spontaneously start dropping gold nuggets in my boxers tomorrow, but until then, this is a yummy sandwich that I would suggest you let someone else buy for you.

(Nutrition Facts — 1 small sandwich — 560 calories, 245 calories from fat, 27.5 grams of fat, 12 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of artificial trans fat, 0.5 grams of natural trans fat, 85 milligrams of
cholesterol, 1820 milligrams of sodium, 43 grams of carbohydrates, 1 gram of fiber, 5 grams of sugar, and 32 grams of protein.)

Item: Quiznos Prime Rib on Garlic Bread Sandwich
Price: $5.49
Size: Small sandwich
Rating: 6 out of 10
Pros: Tasty garlic aioli sauce suitable replacement for garlic bread.  Made quickly.  Pleasant, non-overpowering smell.  Visually appealing when bread is closed.  Reasonable amount of meat.  Sports bras.  Attentive servers.
Cons: Given the price, apparently made with truffles and lobster. Sodium explosion.  Not actual garlic bread.  Reasonable amount of meat… if it was a $3 sandwich.  Burns easily.  Paranoid servers.

NEWS: Dominex Introduces New Veggie Fries for Moms to Fool Their Kids Into Eating Their Veggies; Kids Not Fooled One Bit

Dominex is a brand I never knew existed until I saw an announcement for their new Veggie Fries. Dominex is, apparently, “The Eggplant People.” You may be wondering what that means. It means Dominex takes perfectly innocent foods like burgers and meatballs and tries to emulate them using eggplant. Dr. Frankenstein meets the purple plant that absorbs the flavors around it. I guess eggplant is the new tofu?

Regardless, Dominex has added Veggie Fries to their eggplant empire. Breaded Italian Style Eggplant Fries, to be more precise. I was convinced “Italian Style” fries was something Dominex made up to make eggplant fries sound more appetizing, but Googling Italian style fries brought up over a million hits, so I guess that’s egg(plant) on my face.

Veggie Fries’ big selling point, besides Doninex’s motto of “A Fun Way to Enjoy You Veggies!”, is that Veggie Fries have 65% less sodium than french fries. They also claim to be made with all-natural ingredients and freshly-sourced eggplant. I have no idea what freshly-sourced means, and Google didn’t really help me out, so it sounds to me like one of those bullshit phrases someone made up to make something sound more organic. I invite anyone to educate me in the comments section.

Dominex doesn’t have Veggie Fries up on their official website yet, so the only nutritional information available right now is that a full serving has only 80 milligrams of sodium. The suggested retail price for a 14-ounce bag is $4.49.

REVIEW: Popeyes Red Hot Popcorn Chicken

Popeyes Red Hot Popcorn Chicken

The Popeyes Red Hot Popcorn Chicken combo meal kicked my ass.

I eat fast food once a month, maybe less. Until this most recent adventure, I had never even been to a Popeyes. This probably makes me a terrible American. Having publicly admitted to these failings, I doubt they’ll let me back into the Midwest unless I overcompensate with an NRA card and at least two prominent Jesus-themed accessories.

It wasn’t the heat that got me. In fact, I fear my Sriracha sauce addiction is beginning to screw with my heat sensors. It’s just so delicious on everything! Today, I think I may have some on chocolate. Maybe a Sriracha s’more. This won’t even be a new low for me, assuming it doesn’t taste worse than canned Chinese water bugs or KC Masterpiece on a Twinkie.

Based on my damaged sensibilities, I felt that while the popcorn chicken offered a nice kick, the heat didn’t ever seem to build, likely thanks in part to the biscuit and ranch dip, both of which offer up tongue relief in addition to scary quantities of buttermilk (more on those supporting characters in a few paragraphs).

In the end, it was the sheer amount of greasy carb-loaded things that brought me down. The meal itself comes in a box roughly the same size and shape as a brick, which is exactly how it felt once it hit my stomach.

No one warned me that combo meals are a thing one needs to train for. I should’ve started on this months ago with a small order of Cajun fries every few days, maybe a sweet potato pie on the weekends. But I like my new jeans and wish to continue fitting into them, so it’s probably better that I didn’t make that much of a commitment.

The oh-so-convenient brick box is supposedly designed to be easy to eat on the go. I ate a good portion of it on the way home without incident, only to spill ranch all over my coffee table ten seconds after getting home. To my roommates: I am sorry if the Swiss army knife on the shelf smells like rancid buttermilk forever. Just try not to get it near your faces. It’s not my fault that those things have so many strange, hidden crevices. Point being, dip will always be the downfall of on-the-go meals.

Popeyes Red Hot Popcorn Chicken Meal

Oh – and sorry everybody else. I never properly introduced the cast of today’s lunch. The meal includes Cajun fries, the new Red Hot Popcorn Chicken, a signature biscuit, and ranch dip (the nameless character actor visible in the background of so many of chicken’s greatest appearances). The ranch felt like an afterthought, at worst the lazy answer to an otherwise one-note tub ‘o carbohydrates, at best a beacon of salvation for the stereotypically wimpy American palate. When the girl at the counter lovingly flung my ranch dip into the bag as she handed it over the counter, even the best five star service was put to shame, and my mounting ranch doubts were all but confirmed. That’s not to say the goop didn’t function as a delightful contrast to the spices in the chicken. There’s a reason ranch has earned its place of high acclaim alongside chicken bites and wings from sea to shining sea. I just wish Popeye’s had used this opportunity to shine by offering up some sort of creative twist harkening back to the bayou, perhaps gator sauce or fresh, warm oil.

The Popeye’s website describes the Red Hot Popcorn Chicken as being marinated in a “unique four pepper blend of Cayenne, white, black, and Habanero peppers.” Right. Okay then. For starters, black and white pepper are technically the same thing: shriveled almost-berries on a vine. For real. I found this out when I moved to California. Habaneros and Cayenne, like all other chili peppers, grow as flowering plants and are part of the nightshade family. Those guys also offer capsaicin, which makes them hot, unlike black peppercorns, which just sit there looking like a cluster of sun-baked BBs. So really we’re dealing with two heat-producing peppers and two standard, under-achieving spices in this red hot popcorn chicken. Color me unimpressed and pour me another shot of Sriracha. This concludes your horticulture lesson for today, kids.

What else have we got here in this box of wonders? Oh yes, the biscuit. I kind of love the extraneous biscuit thing Popeye’s does. It’s like a little acknowledgement that there is no hope in your meal choice. At this point, the most they can do is go ahead and throw the buttery behemoth in the box from the get-go to save you the shame of ordering it separately. So thank you, Popeye’s, for understanding me so well and reacting with discretion.

Everything inside the box was flavorful, providing the illusion of variety. The combo even seemed to hit all three of the main fast food groups: meat, starch, and sugar.

I’d declare this box my food of choice for bad days if the nearest Popeye’s wasn’t inconveniently far away, in the opposite direction of my workplace, nestled back into that one strip mall out by San Diego State where everyone goes for the good FroYo.

If you’re looking for nutritional sustenance or the five-star treatment, look elsewhere, but if you’re feeling rebellious, either toward your digestive tract or to the world at large, this is your winner. Remember to allow for the standard post-fast food bathroom time the next morning, and to bring along an extra dollar on your Popeye’s trip for some sweet potato pie. The unassuming little sign at the register burrows into one’s heart like a sad puppy and does not let go. Mmm… pie.

(Nutrition Facts – conspicuously impossible to track down, which is probably ultimately for the best)

Other Popeyes Red Hot Popcorn Chicken reviews:
Brand Eating
An Immovable Feast

Item: Popeyes Red Hot Popcorn Chicken
Price: $2.99 with chicken, fries, biscuit, and ranch dip ($3.99 with drink)
Size: N/A
Purchased at: Popeyes
Rating: 8 out of 10
Pros: Excellent crunchy/meaty ratio amongst all the popcorn chicken bites. Good baseline spice level. Sriracha. Black pepper vines. Chicken is juicy. Cajun fries-based training regimen. Biscuit!
Cons: Sad puppies. Barbequed Twinkies. Bringing shame to my Midwestern relatives. Sriracha not already present in this meal. Half the featured peppers not actually the hot kind. Buttermilk funk permeating certain areas of my living room. Oil spill joke too late to be topical, yet not outdated enough to no longer be in bad taste.

REVIEW: Yoplait Delights Parfait (Chocolate Eclair & Cherry Cheesecake)

Yoplait Delights Parfaits (Chocolate Eclair & Cherry Cheesecake)

I’m a woman, so I know how to eat indulgent foods. When I found out about the two new flavors of Yoplait Delights Parfaits (Chocolate Éclair and Cherry Cheesecake) I knew the occasion called for the Ultimate Feminine Eating Method (UFEM). For those of you unfamiliar with the Method, the first thing you should know is that it requires a lot of smiling. And dancing. And spoons.

With the Chocolate Éclair Delights in hand, I curled up, barefoot, on the window seat in my sunlit, carefully-arranged, shabby chic living room to sample its dense, chocolate-y goodness. The velvety texture of the vanilla custard yogurt layered on top of the rich, dark chocolate yogurt base was sufficiently happiness-inducing, though it wasn’t really what I define as a parfait due to its lack of layering with other foods (e.g. fruit, granola). When I read the label and saw that my delicious and life-affirming snack was only 100 calories, I leapt to my feet to change into some tight, faded denim jeans so that I could prance wildly in front of my full-length mirror and pull my waistband away from my mid-section with glee.

Yoplait Delights Parfaits Chocolate Eclair

The fact that it is scoop-able was also a plus for me because the Ultimate Feminine Eating Method dictates that I only indulge upon things I can eat with a spoon; it simplifies the Method’s standard of luxuriating in a food’s low-fat flavor by allowing you to suck on the spoon for 10 seconds in ecstasy while your eyes roll back in your head. But 10 seconds is all you get. Any longer, and you’re a big, fat pig, and no one will love you.

Still strictly adhering to the UFEM, I took the Cherry Cheesecake Delights to the shore for some impromptu, self-important beach yoga. With the sun’s rays blessing my energetic Virabhadrasana/Warrior II pose, I helped myself to a single spoonful. It wasn’t terrible, but the artificial cherry flavored yogurt left a lot to be desired, and the creamy, cheesecake-flavored base didn’t really taste like cheesecake. Believe me, I know what cheesecake tastes like. I’ve eaten the low-cal, sugar-free, spoonable, mini cheesecake bites offered by other lady-friendly snack lines, and you, sir, are no cheesecake.

Yoplait Delights Parfait Cherry Cheesecake

Despite the Cherry Cheesecake Delights’ shortcomings, it earned a Method-certified, spoon-cleaning lick, and I suddenly felt compelled to abandon my Garudasana and launch into a series of slow-motion cartwheels in the sand, overcome by the sugariness of it all. Then I got dizzy and face-planted in a little kid’s sand castle. Eating a spoonful of food per day leaves you pretty weak. But I sure look great in my yoga outfit.

Yoplait Delights are like deluxe pudding cups (another food item that makes me want to salsa dance with a sexy, faceless stranger in a fancy dress while laughing my head off), and their texture is not too far off from that. They come in four ounce cups, perfect for hiding in one’s purse for ultimate deniability. The Ultimate Feminine Eating Method dictates that a lady must never be seen eating things in public. She must only consume food in private… and partake in a side-splitting laugh or two while doing that.

(Nutrition Facts – 1 container/4.0 oz (113 grams) – Chocolate Éclair – 100 calories, 10 calories from fat, 1.5 grams of fat, 1 gram of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 5 milligrams of cholesterol, 90 milligrams of sodium, 18 grams of carbohydrates, 13 grams of sugar, 200 milligrams of potassium, and 9 grams of protein. Cherry Cheesecake – 100 calories, 10 calories from fat, 1.5 grams of fat, 1 gram of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 5 milligrams of cholesterol, 80 milligrams of sodium, 16 grams of carbohydrates, 12 grams of sugar, 180 milligrams of potassium, and 9 grams of protein.)

Item: Yoplait Delights Parfait (Chocolate Éclair and Cherry Cheesecake)
Price: $1.99 (on sale; regular price $3.79)
Size: 4 pack
Purchased at: Vons
Rating: 6 out of 10 (Chocolate Éclair)
Rating: 5 out of 10 (Cherry Cheesecake)
Pros: Sexy faceless strangers. Chocolate Eclair was sufficiently happiness-inducing. 100 calories per serving. Spoons. Mirror dancing. Laughing alone with food.
Cons: Big, fat un-loveable pigs. Lack of adequate parfait layering. Cheesecake-flavored base didn’t really taste like cheesecake. Artificial cherry flavored yogurt left a lot to be desired. Snacking with a utensil while maintaining a standing yoga pose. Cheesecake impostors. Sand in your face. Eating in public.