REVIEW: Triscuit Thin Crisps (Chile Pepper and Parmesan Garlic)

/ / Reviews / 8 Comments

Triscuit Thin Crisps (Parmesan Garlic and Chile Pepper)

If you’re anything like me, people are constantly stopping you on the street to ask, “Drew, how do you choose what product you’re going to hilariously [they usually cough when they say that part] review in any given week?” (I’m assuming your name is Drew. If not, sorry, but that’s on your parents, not me.) Most of them are hoping the answer is something sexy like opening an envelope from Marvo that self-destructs after reading it, or picking a briefcase at random held by bikini models. But the truth is, what products we review are largely dictated by our circumstances. For instance Marvo, debonair man-about-town and walking STD factory that he is, reviews condoms. Kelley likes armed insurrection and mustachioed men who look like they might be named Sanchez, so she opts for survivalist food and Tapatio products.

And I, devoted family man and perpetual runner-up for the Whitest Man Alive award (stupid Wayne Brady), review crackers. I’m not complaining… it’s what we do here in the suburbs. Sometimes I’ll invite my honky friends over, put my 2.3 kids to bed, and break out the chablis and a cracker platter so we can sample a few new varieties (brie optional). Usually I’ll spring for some imports — Sweden has some wheat-based thins to die for — but this time I decided to stick closer to home. Pretty much exactly what you’d expect from a man whose proudest moment was the time he was in a 3-second audience reaction shot at a Jeffrey Ross special. (I’m the handsome one.)

Triscuit Thin Crisps aren’t an entirely new product, but they have new packaging that I’m guessing is just going to annoy the hell out of stockboys. They’re thicker at the top than at the bottom, thus leaving noticeable empty space between each package. It at least looks kind of cool, if you don’t think too hard about the fact that it means you’re getting less food for your money. Along with the packaging revamp comes a new flavor, Chile Pepper, which we’ll be looking at alongside preexisting variety Parmesan Garlic.

Triscuit Thin Crisps Chile Pepper

I was both enthused and apprehensive to try the new flavor because chile pepper and I are fairly recent acquaintances. The wife finally convinced me a few years ago to try pepper flakes on pizza, and to my great surprise I ended up liking them immensely. But I’m still a skeptic at heart when it comes to new stuff; and much like putting a strapless dress on a supermodel, what works on pizza isn’t always going to work on everything else. So I was happy to bite into my first Chile Pepper Thin Crisp and discover that I liked them. They have just a little bit of heat to them, which thanks to the triangular shape of the crisps kind of flattens out over your entire tongue. But to the disgust of Texans everywhere, the spicy flavor remains infuriatingly mild. If a Texan ever ate one, he would immediately complain that it must’ve been made by a Northerner, then probably mumble something about the Alamo or giant belt buckles or whatever.

The spice is also fairly short-lived in duration; I had two beverages nearby but never even thought about reaching for either, even right after the initial crunch of flavor. To put it in perspective, my almost 3-year-old ate two in rapid succession, then asked for another as a reward for using the potty. When your spice can’t even make a toddler blanch, it’s clear you’re not pursuing the eXtreme demographic. I’ll grant that some of the crackers seemed to carry more heat than others — I don’t know if that’s due to the residue on some of them flaking off, but you could easily get one that makes you check the box to make sure it’s not the plain variety, followed immediately by one that brings the heat rushing back. They also smell extremely good, with that familiar chili powder scent. I’d go so far as to say the smell might actually trump the taste, like coffee or scented candles.

Triscuit Thin Crisps Parmesan Garlic

And hey, you know what else smells good, he segued flawlessly? Garlic and parmesan cheese. This variety also emits a nice scent, though a bit subtler… you really have to get your nose in there and sniff. Go ahead, don’t be shy — grocery store managers like when you sample their wares so you can give informed feedback to other shoppers. And really, “subtler” is the perfect word to describe the Parmesan Garlic Thin Crisps in comparison to their (semi-)spicy brother. The garlic is present but doesn’t overwhelm, and that distinct parmesan flavor that New Jerseyans constantly taste even when we’re not eating anything is present and accounted for. That said, they’re not something I could see snacking on for the entire duration of a football game or a movie. If you’re looking for a flavor explosion, you’re likely to find Parmesan Garlic a bit bland, but cracker aficionados like myself can see past all that to the pleasant neutrality contained within.

And that’s your cracker review for today from CRKR — all crackers, all the time. Neither of these varieties completely knocked my socks off, but they’re both decent flavors that could stand a little more prominent flavor profiles, or maybe just to include a prize inside the box. They’re probably a lot better when paired with cheese, but taken on their own merits, Chile Pepper and Parmesan Garlic are pretty good if unspectacular crackers. Like my high school swim team.

(Nutrition Facts — 14 crackers — Parmesan Garlic – 130 calories, 40 calories from fat, 4.5 grams of total fat, 1 gram of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 2.5 grams of polyunsaturated fat, 1 gram of mono saturated fat, 0 milligrams of cholesterol, 160 milligrams of sodium, 120 milligrams of potassium, 20 grams of total carbohydrates, 3 grams of dietary fiber, less than 1 gram of sugars, and 3 grams of protein. Chile Pepper – 140 calories, 40 calories from fat, 4.5 grams of total fat, 0.5 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 2.5 grams of polyunsaturated fat, 1 gram of monounsaturated fat, 0 milligrams of cholesterol, 170 milligrams of sodium, 135 milligrams of potassium, 21 grams of total carbohydrates, 3 grams of dietary fiber, less than 1 gram of sugar, and 3 grams of protein.)

Item: Triscuit Thin Crisps (Chile Pepper and Parmesan Garlic)
Price: $2.99 each
Size: 7.6 oz
Purchased at: Wegman’s
Rating: 7 out of 10 (Chile Pepper)
Rating: 6 out of 10 (Parmesan Garlic)
Pros: Getting fellow reviewers on the FBI watch list. Pissing off stockboys. Both smell great, especially the Chile Pepper ones. Nice and crunchy. Pleasing aftertaste. Garlic and parmesan will always be a great flavor combo. Angering Texans.
Cons: Not being named Drew. Strapless dresses on those who… should not wear strapless dresses. 3-year-olds who laugh at your heat. Uneven spice distribution. Parmesan Garlic is good, but wears out its welcome quickly. No prize in the box. A bit dull.

REVIEW: Keebler Wheatables Toasted Pecan Nut Crisps

/ / Reviews / 6 Comments

Keebler Wheatables Toasted Pecan Nut Crisps

When I stumbled upon the newest addition to Keebler’s Wheatables line, my first thought was “Finally! Someone has tapped into the sorely neglected yet obviously lucrative grey squirrel market!” I’m serious. My brain operates in strange and fascinating ways. I am afraid of word association exercises and what horrors they might reveal about my psyche.

The Toasted Pecan Nut Crisps were strategically placed on the top row of shelves in the snack aisle. That’s a horrible position for attracting the bulk of the snacking population, but it’s prime squirrel territory, provided my local grocery store starts accepting tree-dwelling rodents as valid customers.

Keebler’s foray into the nut-gatherer segment of the population actually makes sense when you think about it. Of course the tree-dwelling elf company would be among the first to respond to the outcry of squirrels frustrated and bored with the usual range of stale mixed nuts offered up by their overly gregarious, primarily elderly suppliers. I think we can all agree that no self-respecting modern urban squirrel actually goes out foraging among the trees anymore.

Back at my alma mater we had squirrels on the main quad that survived solely on McDonald’s scraps and the adoration of the student body. It was damn near impossible to enjoy a Nature Valley bar in the shade of majestic maple tree on a warm spring day without the little guys circling like vultures, ever tighter, ever closer, chattering expectantly. San Diego’s omni-sunny, seasonless climate makes things all the worse by eliminating the need to hibernate and stockpile. It was only a matter of time before our local rodent friends evolved from hunter-gathering to lounging in little eucalyptus hammocks, munching on acorn-blasted goldfish and googling all sorts of disturbing variations of the phrase “huge savory nuts”.

At first whiff, the crisps smell like Honey Bunches of Oats with a twinge of maple syrup. Each one is rife with pecan flecks and salt crystals. I’m left with a fine nutty/salty dust coating my fingertips, making this a decent option for all those grading their snacks on the Doritos scale of puzzling powder-based messiness.

Keebler Wheatables Toasted Pecan Nut Crisps Naked

The flavor is buttery, with prominent pecan, and just a hint of salt. Think pecan French toast, only crispier, like a standard, non-amazing Wheatable. This threw my best friend into a state of existential confusion. She very much likes to categorize, organize, and keep things neat. The nut crisps shattered that careful order in just one bite.

They aren’t really crackers – too sweet. Their hexagonal shape disqualifies them from any special animal cracker exemptions. They certainly wouldn’t qualify as a cookie either, as they’re too flat and crispy. They’re far too nutritionally deficient to pass as breakfast in any but the most desperate of circumstances, yet every fabric of their being practically screams “GOOD MORNING!” from the moment one opens the box. Even the good elves of Keebler seem unable to decide what to make of this monster. The box tentatively labels them as crackers in tiny print below the giant “nut crisps” banner. So they’re crisp cracker snacks? I guess?

If you’re able to get past that philosophical quandary and dive into a box with no regard for labeling, the Nut Crisps are quite delicious and addictive snack… thingies. They apparently also come in almond, but as a former Midwesterner looking to regain some of the street cred I lost in the Popeye’s fiasco, I only bothered to hunt down the buttery goodness of pecans.

(Nutrition Facts – 16 crackers – 140 calories, 60 calories from fat, 7 grams of fat, 1 gram of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 3.5 grams polyunsaturated fat, 2 grams monounsaturated fat, 0 milligrams of cholesterol, 200 milligrams of sodium, 20 grams of carbohydrates, 1 gram of fiber, 3 grams of sugar, 2 grams of protein, 0% vitamin A, 0% calcium, 0% vitamin C, and 6% iron.)

Item: Keebler Wheatables Toasted Pecan Nut Crisps
Price: $3.59
Size: 8.5 ounces
Purchased at: Albertson’s
Rating: 9 out of 10
Pros: Addresses the plight of bored urban squirrels. Tastes like honey bunches of hexagons. Peh-cahns. Good random snack. The Doritos powdery coating scale. Brimming with sunshine and cheeriness.
Cons: Suffers from an identity crisis. Possibly promotes squirrel obesity. Pecan dust never goes away. Makes a very sad stand alone breakfast and an even sadder lunch. Pee-cans. Failing a word association test. Stale mixed nuts.

REVIEW: Fire Roasted Tomato Wheat Thins Crunch Stix

/ / Reviews / 9 Comments

Fire Roasted Tomato Wheat Thins Crunch Stix

The problem with regular flat Wheat Thins are that they aren’t very friendly when it comes to being able to play with them.

All I can do with a square Wheat Thin is use it as a paper football replacement or break one in half and use the two pieces to create buckteeth whenever I want to offend rednecks or upset the entire Japanese population by recreating the offensive stereotype of Japanese people found on U.S. World War II propaganda.

But with the new Fire Roasted Tomato Wheat Thins Crunch Stix, I can think of multiple playful possibilities.

Some of the things I can do with the round, three inch long Wheat Thins Crunch Stix include:

1. Playing pick-up sticks.
2. Recreating the Star Wars lightsaber scenes using my now worthless Beanie Babies.
3. Producing an ineffective shiv.
4. Pretending to have walrus tusks.
5. Making any Ken doll anatomically correct.

Fire Roasted Tomato Wheat Thins Crunch Stix Closeup

While the Wheat Thins Crunch Stix are much more fun than their flat, square cousins, I can’t say they’re as addictive. Their fire roasted tomato flavor was nice for the first few stix, but, strangely, the flavor disappeared after chain eating about five of them. It was like my tongue got used to its flavor, much like how my nose has gotten used to my own flatulence.

Once the fire roasted tomato flavor disappeared, they tasted like low sodium Wheat Thins, which are decent when I’m trying to prevent hypertension, but aren’t as addictive as regular Wheat Thins. Speaking of wholesome products, these Wheat Thins Crunch Stix brag about having 11 grams of whole grain per serving. But that isn’t really impressive since a bowl of Cookie Crisp has 8 grams.

Overall, the Fire Roasted Tomato Wheat Thins Crunch Stix are a mediocre snack. Sure, its shape allows me to stick them in every orifice on my body, but I don’t think they have enough flavor on them to disguise the fact I stuck them in every orifice on my body and placed them back on the party tray I got them from.

(Nutrition Facts – 14 pieces/29 grams – 130 calories, 35 grams of fat, 4 grams of fat, 0.5 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 2 grams of polyunsaturated fat, 1 gram of monounsaturated fat, 0 milligrams of cholesterol, 190 milligrams of sodium, 70 milligrams of potassium, 22 grams of carbohydrates, 2 grams of fiber, 4 grams of sugar, 2 grams of protein, 2% calcium and 4% iron.)

Item: Fire Roasted Tomato Wheat Thins Crunch Stix
Price: $3.00 (on sale)
Size: 8 ounces
Purchased at: Safeway
Rating: 5 out of 10
Pros: Round, thin shape makes them great for sticking in every orifice on my body. More fun then regular Wheat Thins. 11 grams of whole grain per serving. Satisfying crunch. Walruses.
Cons: Fire roasted tomato flavor disappears quickly. Not as addictive as regular Wheat Thins. Using regular Wheat Thins to pretend to have buckteeth. Makes a horrible shiv. The value of my Beanie Babies. Hypertension.

REVIEW: Ritz Crackerfuls Cheddar Cheese & Bacon

/ / Reviews / 20 Comments

It’s fitting I found the Ritz Crackerfuls Cheddar Cheese & Bacon in Wisconsin — the land of cheese and meats. If only it came with a beer dipping sauce or made with beer bread batter, then it could be the state’s unofficial cracker snack.

The Cheddar Cheese & Bacon flavor is the latest in the Ritz Crackerfuls line and puts an end to the hoity-toity sounding flavors that preceded it, which include Classic Cheddar, Four Cheese and Garlic Herb.

Like small-breasted porn starlets, the Ritz Crackerfuls Cheddar Cheese & Bacon keeps it real. It has real cheddar cheese made with cultured milk, salt, enzymes and annatto extract color. It also has real bacon in the form of rendered bacon fat and bacon bits that have been cured with water, salt, sugar, sodium phosphates, sodium ascorbate and sodium nitrate.

Mmm…You can totally read the realness.

You know what else this cheese cracker sandwich has? Green tea and rosemary extracts. No fo’ realsies. Although I don’t taste either of them. I’d show you the ingredients list to prove it, but you would quickly get bored by its vastness or due to the number of ingredients that end with -ate, you would suffer PTSD (Periodic Table Studying Disorder) and relive the horrors of memorizing chemical compounds in your high school and college chemistry classes.

The Ritz Crackerfuls Cheddar Cheese & Bacon has a smokiness to it, but I’m not sure if it’s from the cheese, the bacon, both or from one of the ingredients that end with -ate. Well, whatever creates that smoky flavor, it makes this cheese cracker sandwich slightly more enjoyable than the original flavors of Crackerfuls. The bacon bits are large enough to be seen and provide a different kind of crunch than the cracker, so if you’re one of those mouthy-feely eaters you might get a kick from the almost crystalline-like crunch.

Just like the original Crackerfuls, this latest variety is also as fragile as a mofo. It’s a crumb creator, so if you don’t have manners, I’d suggest getting some and pulling out a plate to eat these.

(Nutrition Facts – 1 Crackerful – 130 calories, 7 grams of fat, 2 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 1.5 grams of polyunsaturated fat, 2.5 grams of monounsaturated fat, 5 milligrams of cholesterol, 250 milligrams of sodium, 35 milligrams of potassium, 17 grams of carbohydrates, 3 grams of fiber, 3 grams of sugar, 2 grams of protein, 6% calcium and 4% iron.)

Item: Ritz Crackerfuls Cheddar Cheese & Bacon
Price: $3.19
Size: 6 pack
Purchased at: Festival Foods (Wisconsin)
Rating: 6 out of 10
Pros: Decent smoky flavor. Real bacon bits. 6 grams of whole grain per serving. Contains polyunsaturated and monounsaturated fats. Having manners. Contains green tea extract. Porn starlets. Wisconsin before the mayflies.
Cons: Crackerfuls are crumb creators. Unsure of how it gets its smokiness. Vast ingredients list. Lots of ingredients that end with -ate. Periodic Table Studying Disorder.

REVIEW: Ritz Munchables Pretzel Crisps Buttery Flavor

/ / Reviews / 16 Comments

Ritz crackers. If you live in most of the Anglosphere, you’ve probably eaten them before. To me, Ritz crackers are ubiquitous; they’ve just always been around, like Cheerios. You know what they taste like, but you don’t really give a crap either way. You open the cupboard one day, see a box of Ritz and think, “Huh…I don’t remember buying those.” Then you grab the 8-pack of Entemann’s chocolate donuts sitting next to the crackers and head for the couch to stuff your face while you watch the Deadliest Catch marathon that you’ve already seen twice…in the past month.

Oh sure, you’ll crack the box of Ritz eventually, as you hover over a bowl of Campbell’s tomato soup, with snot running down your face, wishing for death and hoping that you can keep down a few crackers long enough to take your seventh hellish dump of the morning without having to bring an old Tupperware with you, just in case your body decides it wants to expel both your virus-laden bodily fluids at the same time.

By the way, that’s the standard scenario I use to define what I would call a “bad day.”

Six months later, you’ll be cleaning out the pantry, notice the Ritz have long since expired and toss the remainder of the box in the trash. Poor Ritz. Possibly the most disregarded cracker in existence, hovering just above the humble saltine.

Somewhere along the line, Ritz decided it was time to expand their empire and get people excited about the Ritz brand name. Okay, well, maybe not excited. Mildly interested, let’s say. They went wild, launching new lines of crisps, miniatures, and recently, “Crackerfuls.”

The latest addition to this growing family is the Ritz Munchables Pretzel Crisps. Here’s how Ritz’s official website describes them: “What happens when you hide a bite-sized, buttery tasting Ritz cracker inside a salty, crunchy pretzel? You get Ritz Munchables Pretzel Crisps, a scrumptiously satisfying snack you just pop in your mouth.”

What the fuck, Ritz? Have you gone crazy?

It’s like Ritz has hired Dr. Frankenstein to come up with their new products, because there’s no other explanation for it. Who else would think of putting a Ritz cracker inside a pretzel? It’s madness, pure madness.

Madness aside, it’s actually already been done, in a sense, by Keebler. A few years back, they introduced Town House FlipSides, which are a cracker on one side and a pretzel on the other. I thought it was ridiculous then, and I still think so. I guess Nabisco wanted to step it up by having the pretzel actually swallow the cracker. I don’t like where this particular competition is headed.

Pretzel Crisps currently come in two flavors, Buttery Flavor and Cheesy Sour Cream & Onion. I was drawn to the latter, of course, because the more flavors you pack into one snack product, the more intrigued I am. However, I figured Buttery Flavor would give me a better idea of what a regular Ritz cracker tastes like…inside a pretzel. That doesn’t get any less weird, no matter how many times I type it.

You know what also was a little weird? The image on the back of the box. There’s guy shoving a basketball into his crotch with another white guy and a black dude who all look like they’re having a brodown over a local sports team’s basket, goal, touchdown, or whatever. But it also looks like they just watched the revealing of some dumpy chick’s “new look” on TLC’s What Not to Wear. Seriously, I’ve never seen a “candid shot of guys celebrating something out of frame” manage to look so completely emasculated. Adding a basketball doesn’t make it any more manly when it looks like the guy is using it to hide the boner he’s getting from holding hands with his friend that he’s secretly had a crush on for years.

I didn’t have any preconceptions on how the crisps would taste going into this. I guess my mind couldn’t even come up with what a Ritz cracker pretzel would be like. I think my thought was basically, “Danger! Warning! Bad!”

The Ritz Munchables do look like little Ritz mutants, with their signature round shape and pattern of holes, but smaller, thinner and less heavy than regular Ritz. The outside is darker, more indicative of a pretzel, and it’s also smoother. As you can see from the one I broke in half, there’s no scary surprise inside. It looks just like a regular ol’ pretzel chip.

And, while I don’t think I’ve ever had a pretzel chip, I’d imagine these Munchables are pretty much what they taste like. Crunchier but less crumbly than Ritz crackers, with a mild pretzel-flavored finish. I can’t really detect any of Ritz’s traditional texture here, but I think what makes it believable as a cracker/pretzel hybrid is the presence of Ritz’s signature buttery flavor. It’s not as noticeable as in a regular Ritz, but it’s enough to turn it from a bland pretzel snack into a slightly buttery-tasting bland pretzel snack.

I think if I’d purchased the Cheesy Sour Cream & Onion flavor instead of Buttery Flavor, all resemblance to a Ritz cracker probably would go right out the window. It’s only the butter taste that makes it seem like a pretzel/Ritz hybrid. Personally, I require my pretzels to either be pre-flavored or dipped in something tasty. The butter taste just can’t save these Munchables from being Blandsville to me. I can imagine enjoying them with a nice, heavily-processed nacho cheese sauce, but they’re too small to dip into anything without getting dip all over your fingers.

Also, have a tall glass of water handy, because the Ritz Munchables Pretzel Crisps Buttery Flavor will suck your mouth dry, just like eating a handful of plain pretzels. Come to think of it, I wouldn’t eat these as a regular snack, but if I found myself hovering over a bowl of tomato soup, feeling miserable, these would be a good “try to get some solid foods into you” option. But then, so would saltines, and I don’t think they’re ever going to win any “Flavor of the Year” awards.

The Ritz Munchables Pretzel Crisps Buttery Flavor – a great choice if you’re having a “bad day.”

(Nutrition Facts – 15 pieces/29 grams – 140 calories, 6 grams of fat, 1.5 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 1 gram of monounsaturated fat, 0 milligrams of cholesterol, 340 milligrams of sodium, 19 grams of total carbohydrates, 1 gram of dietary fiber, 2 grams of sugars, 2 grams of proteins, 0% vitamin A, 0% vitamin C, 4% calcium and 6% iron.)

Item: Ritz Munchables Pretzel Crisps Buttery Flavor
Price: $2.49 (on sale)
Size: 12.25 ounces
Purchased at: Fry’s Foods
Rating: 4 out of 10
Pros: Hint of traditional Ritz buttery flavor. Having a basketball around to hide your boner. Crispy and crunchy. Dr. Frankenstein running the Ritz R&D department.
Cons: Too bland. Bodily fluids coming out both ends. Too small for dipping. Unrequited man crushes.

Scroll to Top