Crackers Archives - Page 8 of 12

REVIEW: Honey Maid Teddy Grahams Apple

June 11, 2013July 19, 2023 Margaret 1 Comment

Ursa Minor: it’s not just a constellation.

For decades now Nabisco has offered box-fulls of “ursa minors” or, for those of us who don’t speak Latin and have to use Google to translate (i.e. me), “little bears.”

Yes, these wee little ursidae-shaped graham cookies have nourished the childhoods and adulthoods of many humans marching forth into unknown world.

And while the world is still rife with unknowns, I am confident I can keep on marching while nourishing my brain with a bunch of little bears from a box of Teddy Grahams, and now Nabisco is offering these graham-infused goodies in Apple flavor.

The ever-classic duo: One bear cheers. The other does a cool dance with his hands down. Or maybe reverse jumping jacks? Or a 90s workout video? I’ve never really known.

I once read that animals gather together in anticipation of a natural disaster. If that’s true, these Teddy Grahams make me wonder if I should stock up on canned goods and AA batteries because there are a buncha bears gathered in here. According to my ~~calculations~~ calculator, I get a whopping 216 bears per box. That’s enough bears to last me a hibernation…or at least three episodes of Breaking Bad and some midnight ice cream (Maybe a good Talenti vanilla bean? Or Jeni’s Brown Butter?)

But number games aside, how does their taste stand up to their fellow mammal-shaped brethren?

Apple, apple, apple. That’s what I hope for in taste of an Apple Teddy Graham and, boy howdy, that’s what I got. No mushy, half-hearted pomme flavoring here. These taste of tart, crisp Granny Smiths and, while it doesn’t say so in the ingredients, I swear there’s a hint of a lemony bite hidden in here. There aren’t any apple chunks hangin’ around, but the presence of a quality applesauce is present throughout each graham. It’s like the crispy bits of apple pie crust in the form of a grizzly.

If that Teddy Graham were Indiana Jones, the apple would be the boulder chasing him through the cave.

Now, if I had the chance, some secret agent skills, and a power tool that would allow me to swoop in during the dark of night and edit the Teddy Graham recipe, I’d add some cinnamon to get a little depth to these itty-bitty wonders as the apple flavor can get overwhelming, but it’s nothing a little blending with some cinnamon Teddies couldn’t fix.

What’s surprising is that the applesauce doesn’t affect the snap of these bears. They remain just as crunchy as any Teddy Graham I’ve ever encountered, a pleasant discovery given that applesauce tends to make baked goods more dense and chewy. The snap also makes these exceptionally easy to munch. Theoretically, if I continued at the rate I’m going, I’d build up my jaw muscles enough so that I’d soon be ready for try-outs for the sport of “Chewing” at the next Olympic games.

And, while the snackability rate is possible in theory, after a handful or two, I’m good. These quell any apple pie craving, but they’re not my favorites. I commend the presence of calcium and whole grains and actual applesauce, but the apple flavor gets dull after a bit and I’m ready to move on.

In the end, these grahams came, saw, and were eaten, and, by all the pigeons in Central Park, I do declare they delivered on their promise. At the same time, they don’t quite fill the cookie craving in my soul. If you hoard your Granny Smiths at the spark of fall’s harvest or have dreamed of small crisps that evoke apple pie crust, these may be right up your alley. For me, they get a gold star for being pleasant, but haven’t yet reached a caliber of greatness.

(Nutrition Facts – 24 pieces – 130 calories, 35 calories from fat, 4 grams of fat, 0.5 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 0 milligrams of cholesterol, 80 milligrams of sodium, 60 milligrams of potassium, 22 grams of carbohydrates, 2 grams of fiber, 7 grams of sugars, 2 grams of protein, 10% calcium, 10% iron, and 10% zinc.)

Item: Honey Maid Teddy Grahams Apple
Purchased Price: $2.88
Size: 10 oz. box
Purchased at: Walmart
Rating: 6 out of 10
Pros: Predominant thought while eating is, “Pretty good.” Tastes like real apples in graham form. Real applesauce. Calcium. Whole grains. A cookie that doesn’t explode my cholesterol levels. In the shape of a bear. Secret agent skills. 90s workout videos.
Cons: Predominant thought while eating is, “Pretty good.” Could use a pinch of cinnamon. Apple flavor gets overbearing. Doesn’t quite fill cookie craving. Foreboding natural disasters. Realizing my dependency on calculators. There is no “Chewing” competition at the Olympics.

REVIEW: Nabisco Sea Salt & Black Pepper Brown Rice Triscuit

May 3, 2013December 24, 2020 Drew 13 Comments

Not to frighten those of you who grew up on Pokemon instead of He-Man, but your thirty-somethings will really creep up on you.

One day you’re going out drinking on work nights, then coming home and five-starring some Guitar Hero before bed. Next thing you know you’ve got muscle cramps from your adult kickball league, you can’t remember the last video game you played that wasn’t on your cell phone, and you’ve officially become the guy who reviews crackers.

Crackers! What happened to you, man? You used to be… well, not cool. Kind of cool.

But if you’re going to be dragged forcibly into the middle third of your life, might as well embrace it, right? Start wearing that baseball cap forward. Get bacon OR cheese on your burger, not both. Let your wife finally get that minivan she’s been coveting. (Only kidding, dear. We’re not doing that.) But at the same time, if you find yourself looking at a grocery store shelf full of brown rice Triscuits, well… at least get one with a little flavor to it. If you’ve got to get old, be Mick Jagger, not Gene Simmons.

This brings us to Nabisco Sea Salt & Black Pepper Brown Rice Triscuit. The front of the box tells you all you need to know about the demographic they’re shooting for: there are no dinosaurs with sunglasses or randomly slanted words, and surprisingly few explosions. Just a nondescript brown base that gradually lightens into a burnt umber and eventually orange near the top, with a bright yellow glowing orb that most of us call “Almighty Ra” or “Mr. Sun.” Below it, two bowls: one filled with black pepper, the other grains of salt. A single image of a cracker. And that’s it. You want a spokesanimal or rainbow-colored letters? Fuck you, these crackers are for adults. Leave the kiddie crap at home.

The back isn’t much more interesting, filled with imagery meant to convince your subconscious that these are wholesome and good for you: rice, a few stalks of grain, some red beans, and what I initially thought were slices of bread until the text clarified them as sweet potatoes. One side of the box suggests topping the crackers with ricotta cheese and fresh strawberries, but overplays its hand by promising this will “thrill” your guests. Nice try…stick with “mildly enthuse” and I might buy what you’re peddling, Nabisco. The other side is just the nutritional info, which isn’t bad (130 calories from 9 crackers), although the total fat is a bit more than I would have guessed, 7 percent of your recommended daily intake.

I know this will disappoint those of you hoping for another round of great crackers, but like my beloved Phillies this year, it isn’t going to happen. And the reason is that (like the Phils), these crackers boast a certain amount of potential but just don’t make it happen in execution. Remove one from the box and you become mildly hopeful — it mostly looks like a standard Triscuit, but there’s a slight glaze reminiscent of melted butter (Spoiler! It isn’t), as well as visible pepper flakes in little enclaves around the cracker. Turn it back and forth under a light source and you can even see the glint of salt crystals, although don’t do it when anyone’s around because seriously, you look like a tool.

Take a bite, though, and you’ll remember why no one has ever come close to being excited about the combination of brown rice and crackers: these are dry as hell. They ARE crunchy, it has to be said, but have a drink with you at all times. And not just because of the salt, which is present in reasonable quantities, though it does vary some from cracker to cracker; that’s understandable, though. The pepper flavor is distinct and probably the best thing about the crackers — it’s plentiful enough to savor without overwhelming your palate.

That said, it’s still fighting a losing battle against the dryness and the texture of the crackers. And while the sodium level isn’t bad, they aren’t reduced fat or anything that might mitigate your feelings slightly like that. Sad to say, the sea salt and black pepper are both mildly pleasant, but not magic. They can enhance a steak, but ultimately, they just aren’t enough to make these crackers exciting.

(Nutrition Facts – 6 crackers – 130 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, 130 milligrams of sodium, 55 milligrams of potassium, 21 grams of total carbohydrates, 1 gram of dietary fiber, 0 grams of sugars, and 2 grams of protein.)

Item: Nabisco Sea Salt & Black Pepper Brown Rice Triscuit
Purchased Price: $2.49
Size: 9 oz.
Purchased at: Giant
Rating: 5 out of 10
Pros: Crunchy. Salt and pepper are both plentiful and reasonably tasty. 2008 Phillies. Pretty favorable sodium and (especially) cholesterol levels.
Cons: Quite dry, and after the crunch, not a great texture. 2013 Phillies. Does not move like Jagger. Not much excitement. Embracing your thirties.

REVIEW: Nabisco Chili Cheese Wheat Thins

April 18, 2013December 24, 2020 Drew 8 Comments

Of all my shortcomings as a writer, one of the more noticeable tics is a tendency to bury the lede. If not for the numerical rating at the top, you could read three or four paragraphs into most of my reviews without having any idea whether I actually liked the product, and who has time to indulge a rambling narcissist for that long? Not you, you’re a busy person. Things to do, foods to try! So allow me to cut to the chase:

I had to buy a second box of these Wheat Thins because my family and I ate the first one before I had finished the review, and also just because I wanted to. That almost never happens, even when I really like the food. So there you go.

Now that we’ve gotten the metaphorical first kiss out of the way, we can move on to the rest of our evening. Let’s be candid: in terms of thrilling or exotic foods, crackers rank somewhere between canned tuna and oatmeal. No movie has ever featured a box of Saltines in a steamy seduction scene. Scarlett Johansson could not make crackers sexy. There’s a reason why it’s the preferred terminology for boring white guys like myself.

And even in that dubious company, Wheat Thins are not what you think of as the cutting edge, kick-ass cracker brand. Triscuits, maybe. Cheez-Its? Hell, those em-effers are crazy. But Wheat Thins? They’re what your parents put out as an appetizer before dinner. (Confidential to mom and dad: I still love them! But mostly when sandwiching pepperoni and cheese slices.) So when you hear Wheat Thins is putting out a chili cheese flavor, you scoff and think, “Targeted at who, retirement communities? 8-year-old girls? The Amish? Get real, Wheat Thins.”

And then you take a bite just to be indulgent and it’s like that Chappelle Show sketch where Charlie Murphy plays Prince in a game of pick-up basketball, and the only thing you can say after your first bite is, “Game… blouses.”

I’m serious — by cracker standards, these are really good. They aren’t going to immolate your tongue or make steam shoot out your ears like a 1930s cartoon. But you WILL taste some heat, especially in the crackers at the top of the box. (I noticed the chili flavor starting to get less intense around the middle of the package.) Yes, a Texan would probably pour oil and rattlesnake venom on these and call them breakfast cereal, but for the rest of us, the heat is enough to keep you interested.

In terms of the cheese, it’s definitely overshadowed by the chili. Which is not to say it’s bad — there’s a coating on every cracker that’s probably mostly chili powder, but I would guess also includes cheese dust. It’s just not especially noticeable unless you’re really concentrating, and even then… enh. Not bad, but you’re getting these for the chili, not the cheese. As for the texture, I know it’s incredible to believe but they remain, in fact, Wheat Thins. Same as it ever was.

So there you go: I said at the very beginning that these were great crackers that I willingly bought another box of, and here I am reiterating it. If you’re in a position to pick these up, you should definitely jump on it. That said, I am still going to take points off for unironic use of the word “kickin'” on the back of the box. Because at the end of the day, you are still Wheat Thins. Own that.

(Nutrition Facts – 15 pieces – 140 calories, 50 calories from fat, 5 grams of total fat, 1 gram of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 3 grams of polyunsaturated fat, 1 gram of monounsaturated fat, 0 milligrams of cholesterol, 180 milligrams of sodium, 95 milligrams of potassium, 21 grams of total carbohydrates, 3 grams of dietary fiber, 3 grams of sugars, and 2 grams of protein.)

Other Chili Cheese Wheat Thins reviews:
Junk Food Guy

Item: Nabisco Chili Cheese Wheat Thins
Purchased Price: $2.99 (on sale)
Size: 9 oz. box
Purchased at: Giant
Rating: 8 out of 10
Pros: Putting stereotypes to rest. Brings some heat to the party. Would probably be great sandwiching some Swiss cheese. Not too bad for you. Game… blouses.
Cons: Could stand a little more cheese flavoring to keep up with the chili. tl;dr. “Kickin'” is a very cracker thing to say. Taking shots at the Amish is so 1996.

REVIEW: Nabisco Honey Mustard Wheat Thins

March 19, 2013December 24, 2020 Adam 6 Comments

I oftentimes wonder if there’s some kind of flow chart that maps out how snack companies pick the next flavor for their brands. You know, the kind of simple-to-read document with the Microsoft Word-Art-inspired fancy arrows in bright colors that leads executives on a maze to the big pastel colored circle that says (in Comic Sans, no less) “Red Velvet Pop-Tart” or “Chicken and Waffles Potato Chips.”

And knowing how some flavors get the check-mark before others, I further wonder if the brilliant advisors to some of our nation’s finest food brands aren’t in fact the same whiz kids giving AT&T all that brilliant advice.

I bring this up because it seems a long-time coming that Wheat Thins would add Honey Mustard to their flavor lineup. Seriously, Nabisco. If “artisan” cheese, low sodium, and cinnamon sugar can get on the flavor list, then you’d think a flavor like honey mustard would have made the cut by now.

Well, better late then never.

The taste is classic honey mustard powder, which from my experience is different than actual honey mustard because it has all the benefits of the irresistible sweet-salty combination with a hint of tang and earthiness to go along with not having to deal with the annoyance of squeeze bottle physics.

There aren’t any particularly “artisan” notes that suggest a fancy-smancy Dijon or horseradish-type of honey mustard, which is great in my book because the last thing I want while snacking is making funny faces thanks to nasal irritation. The powder is applied liberally enough to allow for a finger-licking experience, even after a handful of crackers, which seem a natural fit for honey mustard given the crackers’ malted aftertaste and wheaty flavor.

Like I said, it’s a flavor that seems a long time coming.

The sweet and slightly tangy taste permeates past the powder though, which in this case makes the crackers all the more addictive. It also validates their ability to withstand plenty of the stresses of springtime events like watching opening day baseball on your couch with a cold one.

Yes, spilling your beer on Honey Mustard Wheat Thins will infuse the cracker with the triple hops brewed taste of fermented barley, but it won’t wash away the honey mustard taste. Should you not spill beer on your Wheat Thins and just be one of those weird people who insist on licking every atom of seasoning powder off your favorite snack before crunching down, you’ll still find the usual malted taste of the Wheat Thin melding perfectly with the honey mustard flavor.

Truth be told, I really can’t find noticeable flaws with the Honey Mustard Wheat Thins. However, a bit more seasoning as well as a hint of the kind of innate “pretzel” flavor that goes so well with honey mustard would have put these crackers over the top for me.

On that note, Honey Mustard Wheat Thins won’t be the kind of snack that inspires you to deplete your local Walmart’s stock before your tax rebate check arrives, but at the same time, they’re not something that disappoints. If only all flow-chart inspired snack flavor product decisions could accomplish so much.

(Nutrition Facts – 30 grams (About 15 crackers) – 140 calories, 50 calories from fat, 5 grams of fat, 1 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 0 milligrams of cholesterol, 160 milligrams of sodium, 85 milligrams of potassium, 21 grams of carbohydrates, 2 grams of dietary fiber, 5 grams of sugars, and 2 grams of protein.)

Item: Nabisco Honey Mustard Wheat Thins
Purchased Price: $2.50
Size: 9 oz. box
Purchased at: Safeway
Rating: 8 out of 10
Pros: Classic honey mustard powder flavor reminiscent of Rold Gold Honey Mustard pretzels. Sweet-salty-malty powder applied liberally enough for finger licking action. Not overpowering in the tang department. Avoiding squeeze bottle physics which rob me a good three tablespoons of honey mustard. Whole grains.
Cons: Snack food flavor flow charts. Lacks familiar “pretzel” flavor. Still waiting for a Beer and Honey Mustard Wheat Thins flavor.

REVIEW: Nabisco Roasted Sweet Onion Brown Rice Baked With Sweet Potato Triscuit

March 11, 2013December 24, 2020 Adam 11 Comments

If I was required to guess at which snack product would abandon the usual attempt to capture the taste of a nutritionally poor fast food product or even an offbeat American classic in favor of something that sounds like it came from a Giada De Laurentiis cookbook, then I would pick Triscuit.

More upscale than a lowly potato chip and much more inclusive than the crunchy, sometimes divisive malt flavor of the Wheat Thin, Triscuits are the kind of crackers you put out when you’ve invited your next door neighbors over. You know…the nicely dressed couple in their late 30s with 2.4 kids and a dog named Champ. Average. Moderate. Broad. Unassuming. They’re kind of just there. Except when Champ poops on your front yard.

I know it sounds counterintuitive, but I can admire a safe snack like that. It serves a purpose, and is something I don’t feel too bad about when going for seconds at holiday socials. This is important, because like most people, I hate talking to my annoying relatives, who tend to flock to such gatherings. But while I can admire Triscuit because they provide me a distraction when I want to be anti-social, I usually don’t go out of my way to buy them. Hard as I try, I just cannot leap for joy at cravings spawned by the taste of soft winter wheat.

However, combining brown rice, sweet potato and roasted sweet onion in and on a Triscuit? Don’t expect me to make it and upload a photo on Instagram, but even my inner fat kid can get behind a composed flavor combination of wholesome grains and vegetables like that.

Triscuit’s marketing people did a really nice job talking up how these crackers were baked with “real food,” but from the slightly orangyish hue, an almost fried-like wheat and rice structure, and a liberally coated seasoning that looked like Doritos Cooler Ranch powder, each square resembled someone’s misplaced attempt to fry a cracker rather than an actual sweet potato or red onion. Undeterred by this bastardized cracker, my initial bite was greeted by an unmistakable shattering sensation that borders somewhere between crispy and crunchy. Wherever it is on the crunch spectrum, it’s strikingly addictive, and a textural bite I’ve really only encountered at Korean fried chicken restaurants like the chain Bon Chon. Far from the usual sturdy, if not boring, crunch of a Triscuit, I was instantly hooked.

The flavoring powder is strong and slightly sweet and definitely has the red onion vibe going for it. It’s thankfully not as sharp or intense as a raw red onion, although the flavor doesn’t quite reach the mellowed, smoky-sweetness of an actual roasted red onion. Basically, someone like Scott Conant might not be “kinda angry” from eating it, but would rather be just be mildly confused. Personally, I loved it. For while the sweet onion flavor wakes up your tastebuds, a mellow, smokier and wholesome sweet potato taste permeates the backend. Think a whole grain sweet potato chip, if you’ve ever had one of those. If you haven’t, just think yummy and smile.

Through it all, there’s an almost Doritos Cooler Ranch quality to the seasoning. I can’t place my finger on it (probably because I was licking them), but there’s a slight tang that just melds everything together. Or maybe it’s just the natural reaction to licking little green herb seasoning off my fingers.

The box came with a nice little recipe idea for topping my crackers with Gouda and figs, but because I chose a career in writing and editing and don’t have that kind of straight cash money, I settled for some Walmart mozzarella and a few raisins. The cracker did just what it needed to do, contributing the sharp sweet onion flavor and meaty sweet potato back notes to the earthy sweetness of the raisins and milky taste of the cheese. Not overwhelming the topping but still holding its own, my little creation was probably the closest thing I got to an actual meal all week.

Clearly, I’m impressed. So impressed, as a matter of fact, that I’m ready to proclaim this my favorite Triscuit and right up there with some of the best crackers I’ve ever had. What Triscuit has managed to do is create a cracker with one of the greatest textural elements of chips but also the robust flavors of, well, actual food. And they’ve done it with something that’s actually pretty good for me and combines none of that actual cooking stuff. While I can foresee those with a strong aversion to onions taking a pass on these, I think most people will be pleasantly surprised by the entire Brown Rice Triscuit line.

As for pleasing your neighbors at those awkward pre-dinner conversations? Well, you’re completely on your own there.

(Nutrition Facts – 6 crackers – 130 calories, 40 calories from fat, 4.5 grams of fat, 0.5 grams of saturated fat, 0 milligrams of cholesterol, 85milligrams of sodium, 21 grams of carbohydrates, 1 gram of fiber, 1 grams of sugar, and 2 grams of protein.)

Other Roasted Sweet Onion Brown Rice Triscuit reviews:
Junk Food Guy

Item: Nabisco Roasted Sweet Onion Brown Rice Baked With Sweet Potato Triscuit
Purchased Price: $2.50
Size: 9 oz. box
Purchased at: Walmart
Rating: 9 out of 10
Pros: Wonderful and slightly sharp sweet onion flavor balanced by subtle molasses sweetness of earthy whole grains and sweet potato backnotes. Crispy-crunchy-shattery texture like Korean fried chicken. Real food. Whole grains. Doesn’t overpower toppings but can hold its own. Has a Cooler Ranch Doritos vibe for some odd reason.
Cons: Confusing Scott Conant and the anti-onion crowd. Might be a little intense for those who like plain crackers. Not as much fiber or protein as regular Triscuit. Assistant Editors’ salaries. Divisive cracker tastes make for awkward pre-dinner conversation with the neighbors.