It feels as though we’re at a point evolutionarily where it’s odd when new foods are introduced. I’m not talking about when a pizza chain stuffs its crust with a new meat, or Taco Bell assembles four ingredients in a revolutionary way. I mean, when food scientists introduce a totally new, never-before-seen product.
Desserts have had a couple of notable ones over the last decade or so. You all probably remember the cronut craze that started in 2013 when NY pastry chef Dominique Ansel mated a donut with a croissant. And around that same time—either slightly before or slightly after (internet records are sketchy)—somebody somewhere bred a brownie with a cookie. You might know it as a brookie.
Why did it take thousands of years for this delightful abomination to happen? I have no idea. But once it did, the horses were out of the barn. Now, the gluttonously sugared bricks are available essentially wherever desserts are found. That said, not all brookies are created equal. For every Killer Brownie version, there are, well, whatever the hell Chips Ahoy is doing here.
While I didn’t have the highest of hopes—Chips Ahoy is a middling pre-packaged cookie, after all—I guess I was expecting something better than this.
There are 5-7 irregularly sized squares in each package and several packages within the box. There is no discernible difference that I could taste between the brownie and the cookie. They have a pleasantly soft texture with a slight amount of chew, but that’s where the positive notes end. The taste itself is bland. It is vaguely chocolate-like in nature, but there’s no nuance. The best chocolate chip cookies have a hint of salt, but there’s none of that here. It barely tastes like there’s even any sugar. The first thing I thought when I took a bite was, “Are these diet?” And I don’t mean diet as though they’ve been infused with an artificial sweetener. I mean diet as in it tastes like half the sugar was cut out of it.
I couldn’t finish a package, and it probably goes without saying that I damn sure won’t finish the box. These are destined to languish deep within the recesses of my pantry, only to be uncovered upon my death, or my home sale—whichever occurs first.
NOTE: We also reviewed the Blondie version, which was just as bad.
Purchased Price: $4.28
Size: 7 oz box/5 1.4 oz packs
Purchased at: Hy-Vee
Rating: 2 out of 10
Nutrition Facts:(1 pack) 180 calories, 8 grams of fat, 4 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 10 milligrams of cholesterol, 75 milligrams of sodium, 25 grams of carbohydrates, less than 1 gram of fiber, 12 grams of sugar, and 2 grams of protein.
