I’m no Spock, but the price for Taco Bell’s new Crispy Chicken Biscuit Taco is highly illogical.

Taco Bell is known for having cheap food. Breakfast menu items at restaurants are usually cheaper than what’s offered for lunch and dinner. So why is Taco Bell’s Crispy Chicken Biscuit Taco on the breakfast menu so damn expensive? It’s a piece of breaded chicken in a flat biscuit with a sauce. That’s it.

I paid $3.79 for mine. Granted, as I’ve mentioned before, I live on a rock in the middle of the Pacific Ocean where most things are subjected to something called the “Paradise Tax.” But my fellow fast food bloggers paid prices that I would consider high for a taco. Ryan at Grub Grade paid $2.79 and Q at Brand Eating paid $2.69. If you’re a morning grump, I imagine the price of a Crispy Chicken Biscuit Taco and seeing what you get for that price will make your disposition worse.

The flat biscuit is as pliable as a pancake and has a little buttery flavor, but its less sturdy than its predecessor, the Waffle Taco. After the first bite, the biscuit split at the fold due to the biscuit’s dryness. If there were smaller ingredients, like Taco Bell’s bacon bits, I imagine the biscuit falling apart would cause a mess. But since there just a chicken finger and sauce, there’s no worries about the taco’s contents falling out.

The lightly seasoned Crispy Chicken has a breading that has crushed tortilla chips. It’s surprisingly crispy, even after a car trip ride home, but the pressed chicken was as thin as the biscuit.

When you order the Crispy Chicken Biscuit Taco, you have the option of getting it with either Jalapeño Honey or Country Gravy. I tried both. They came in small take out sauce containers that had enough sauce for two Biscuit Tacos. It’s different than the syrup that came with Taco Bell’s Waffle Taco, which was in a McNugget sauce-like container.

If I were to order these Biscuit Tacos again, I would definitely get the Jalapeño Honey over the Country Gravy because the white peppery gravy is bland. I think it would go well with Taco Bell’s sausage, because they would enhance each other. But I can’t say it does the same with the Crispy Chicken.

But I can say the Jalapeño Honey and the lightly seasoned Crispy Chicken do enhance each other. The Jalapeño Honey is sweet, thick, sweet, tangy, sweet, and has a slight kick. The two go together well enough that they almost make me forget about the biscuit falling apart, the thinness of the chicken, and the Biscuit Taco’s price.

Instead of special Biscuit Taco-labeled sleeves, my Taco Bell Biscuit Tacos rocked Taco Bell’s Doritos Locos Taco sleeves. I don’t know if it was a mistake caused by the fast pace in a fast food kitchen or if they ran out of the Biscuit Taco sleeves. But after eating these Crispy Chicken Biscuit Tacos, I feel they were appropriate because I wish I ate a Doritos Locos Tacos instead of the one with Country Gravy and I wish the Jalapeño Honey one, while tasty and definitely better than any Waffle Taco, was the same price as a Doritos Locos Taco.

(Nutrition Facts – Jalapeño Honey – 470 calories, 170 calories from fat, 19 grams of fat, 6 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 25 milligrams of cholesterol, 1030 milligrams of sodium, 63 grams of carbohydrates, 1 gram of fiber, 25 grams of sugar, and 12 grams of protein. Country Gravy – 390 calories, 170 calories from fat, 19 grams of fat, 6 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 25 milligrams of cholesterol, 960 milligrams of sodium, 40 grams of carbohydrates, 1 gram of fiber, 9 grams of sugar, and 13 grams of protein.)

Item: Taco Bell Crispy Chicken Biscuit Taco
Purchased Price: $3.79 each*
Size: N/A
Purchased at: Taco Bell
Rating: 6 out of 10 (Jalapeño Honey)
Rating: 4 out of 10 (Country Gravy)
Pros: Jalapeño Honey. Chicken has breading with frickin’ crushed tortilla chips. Crispy chicken remained crispy even after a car ride home. Amount of sauce given was more than enough.
Cons: Country Gravy. Pricey for what you get. Thin biscuit was a bit dry and easily cracks at the fold. Chicken was as thin as the biscuit.

*Because I live on a rock in the middle of the Pacific Ocean, things are a bit pricier here. You’ll probably pay less than I did.

Perhaps the worst thing about Taco Bell is ordering.

Are they really going to make me say “Chickstar” out loud? Chickstar. Can I instead order the “crunchy, chewy pentagonal chicken pouch”?

Don’t test me, Taco Bell.

I walked away from that movie Chappie just because I didn’t want to have to say “Chappie” out loud to the box office. You think the branding is cute but it sounds like I’m doing jaw exercises before delivering a high school sports report on the local news. Chi-ck-stahr. Que-sah-ree-toh. Break-fast fail-ures.

The Crispy Chicken Chickstar can slide, though, just this once. It’s pretty good! To start, this sandwich thing is shaped like the Crunchwrap Supreme, so it’s completely inviting comparisons. The first bite is a bit of a shock. “I know the Crunchwrap Supreme. And you, sir, are no Crunchwrap Supreme.”

It lacks the snap of a tortilla shell wedged into each bite, but give it some time–the texture is still dynamic, thanks to the fried chicken fillets. The breading of the two chicken finger-sized pieces is made of tortilla chips and while it doesn’t taste different than most other fast food breading, it has a jagged, harder feel that gives it some substance. The chicken itself is also white and dense, like a U.S. congressman.

The softness of the outer tortilla contrasts nicely with the rough-breaded chicken and that interplay is definitely the star (Chickstar?) of the show. Having no bread, it means the protein is allowed to pop more and it also means there are those delightful bites that consist of folded over flour tortilla. So satisfying. Hold on to the tiny joys in life.

I tried the creamy chipotle version of the Chickstar. The sauce filled in the flavor profile and rounded out the taste a bit, but overall it felt a little anemic with the heat. The grated cheese and lettuce and tomato are even more of an afterthought than usual and remain borderline useless. However, the chicken did a decent job of picking up the slack, like Allen Iverson. Al-hen Thigh-verson? Mmm, Al-hen Thigh-verson.

I know these sound like negative points for the Chickstar, but something about the entire package clicks together. It’s crunchy and soft in the right places and knows how to showcase the novelty of a tortilla chip-breaded chicken. Maybe it’s magic. Maybe it’s black magic. Taco Bell does fold these things into pentagrams. Or are they hexagrams. They added an extra side to the pentagram just like they added a fourth meal to the day! Must be voodoo.

The Chipotle Chickstar is a good item. Taco Bell’s new chicken fillet thing is good. But it cost me four bucks and I can get a couple chicken sandwiches for half that at most fast food restaurants. It even costs more than a Quesarito, and is almost as embarrassing to say.

What does “Chickstar” even mean? Is it a chicken hipster? A poultry constellation? Lady rock star? Debbie Harry? Chrissie Hynde? (Crispy Fried is her Chickstar name). Whatever. I’d pay another dollar just to not say the name out loud in the restaurant. And I’ll throw the cashier another twenty if he wants to go next door and say “One for Chappie” for me.

(Nutrition Facts – 760 calories, 43 grams of fat, 8 grams of saturated fat, 60 milligrams of cholesterol, 1650 milligrams of sodium, 70 grams of carbohydrates, 4 grams of sugar, 4 grams of fiber, and 25 grams of protein.)

Item: Taco Bell Crispy Chicken Chipotle Chickstar
Purchased Price: $3.99
Size: N/A
Purchased at: Taco Bell
Rating: 8 out of 10
Pros: Nice breading, great texture. Easy to eat, plenty of folded over tortilla.
Cons: Chipotle sauce is a little quiet, bland. Cheese is still Taco Bell cheese. Fairly expensive.