Tag: Fast Food

REVIEW: Jack in the Box Sirloin Steak Teriyaki Bowl

Ace 19 Comments

I love Jack in the Box. Not the food, but the character and everything that is associated with his adorable giant head. Let’s face it – he’s the greatest fast food mascot in the history of the universe. Jack is non-threatening, yet authoritative, pleasant and jovial without being silly. I even buy a Jack antenna ball for every season of the year and enjoy it thoroughly until it’s stolen. In this era of terrible white-guy-rap McDonald’s commercials, Jack brightens my day.

But then there’s the food. Their Ultimate Cheeseburger can leave you constipated for weeks and their egg rolls are filled with the saltiest pork mixture I’ve ever tasted, which is saying something because I eat fried salt pork as a snack. I know some people swear by them, but these are people who have probably never had a real egg roll as a reference point.

Jack in the Box’s latest foray into the realm of Asian-themed food comes in bowl form, fresh off the heels of their hideous yet tasty breakfast bowls. I guess this was the logical progression. The combo even comes with one of those aforementioned egg rolls for your dipping pleasure.

These sirloin steak and chicken teriyaki bowls are made up of white rice topped with julienne carrots, broccoli, and the meat of your choice covered in a sweet teriyaki sauce. At around five bucks, they are a bit pricey, but you do get a generous amount of meat in the bowl. But as they say, quantity doesn’t beat quality unless you’re trying to get drunk. My first taste led to a resounding shrug of the shoulders and a high-pitched “Eh,” a reaction that I felt was necessary even though I was eating lunch by myself.

The steak, while abundant, obviously came pre-packaged and had that unnaturally soft texture that frozen steak tends to have. Needs more tendony mouth feel, I’d say! Unlike Yoshinoya, however, the broccoli and carrots were sufficiently crunchy. All of this smacks of mediocrity and is quite literally topped off with the one-note sweetness of the teriyaki sauce. Completely uninteresting and bland come to mind. I say stick with Yoshinoya and their baby food-soft vegetables if you want Asian-style fast food, or better yet, try a Flame Broiler if you have one in your area.

It’s a noble effort from a mascot I love, but it’s only worthwhile as a last resort when you’re desperate for some teriyaki and the better places aren’t open.

(Nutritional Facts – 1 bowl – 650 calories, 90 calories from fat, 10 grams of fat, 3 grams of saturated fat, 45 mg of cholesterol, 1740mg sodium, 106 grams of carbs, 4 grams of fiber, and 30 grams of protein)

Item: Jack in the Box Steak Teriyaki Bowl
Price: $4.79
Purchased at: Jack in the Box
Rating: 6 out of 10
Pros: Jack is a superior mascot. Branching out into ethnic foods can lead to possible future interesting foods. Steak is abundant and plentiful. Vegetables maintain their texture.
Cons: Steak has pre-packaged taste and texture. Sauce is obnoxiously sweet and ordinary. There’s probably a better variation of this bowl at Yoshinoya or a local joint. People stealing my Jack antenna balls.

REVIEW: Carl’s Jr. Big Country Breakfast Burrito

Marvo 19 Comments

The Carl’s Jr. Big Country Breakfast Burrito is meant for the daring. It’s made for women who are willing to dance with the guy in the corner wearing sunglasses at night, with two popped collars, and clubgoers always form a large circle around him, not because he needs space to break out his dance moves, but because he has poor personal hygiene. It’s made for men who have the huge brass cojones to write a heart-warming sonnet that uses the Shakespearean rhyme scheme ABAB CDCD EFEF GG to proclaim their love for combing the manes of their My Little Ponies. It’s made for the small dogs who go up to significantly bigger dogs and bark the words, “You are my bitch.”

This breakfast burrito is only meant for the audacious diner because its ingredients list makes the KFC Famous Bowl seem a little less famous, like going from Alec Baldwin to Daniel Baldwin, and its nutritional values would make a doctor’s heart skip a beat. The cavalcade of ingredients not only consists of the trifecta of pig products — sausage, ham, and bacon — it also has scrambled eggs, hash brown nuggets, shredded jack cheese, shredded cheddar cheese, and white sausage gravy in a flour tortilla. It’s like they took George Orwell’s Animal Farm, wrapped it in tortilla, and scraped out the equines and communism.

With all of those ingredients, I was thinking some would overwhelm others, like normal people being stuffed in a room with Robin Williams clones, and it turns out that I was correct. All I could taste was the egg, tortilla, ham, and sausage gravy, although the white gravy was a little weak, making biscuits everywhere cry a little. I was hoping there would be a strong sausage and bacon flavor, but I guess ham is the Highlander and there can only be one in this breakfast burrito. The hash browns were soggy to the point where its texture was as soft as the eggs, so it didn’t add any crunch to it. Perhaps if I ate it in the restaurant instead of eating it ten minutes later in the comfort of my love shack, the hash brown would’ve still been crunchy. Despite not being able to taste all of the ingredients, it was decent as a ham and egg burrito, plus it had a nice heft to it, but I probably wouldn’t order it again.

(Nutrition Facts – 1 burrito – 770 calories, 47 grams of fat, 13 grams of saturated fat, 495 milligrams of cholesterol, 1530 milligrams of sodium, 57 grams of carbohydrates, 4 grams of sugar, 6 grams of dietary fiber, and 31 grams of protein.)

Item: Carl’s Jr. Big Country Breakfast Burrito
Price: FREE (with coupon from PR peeps)
Size: 308 grams
Purchased at: Carls’ Jr.
Rating: 5 out of 10
Pros: Meant for the daring eater. Decent tasting as a ham and egg burrito, since that most of what I could taste.. High in protein. Six grams of dietary fiber. George Orwell’s Animal Farm.
Cons: Couldn’t taste sausage and bacon. Sausage gravy was a little weak. Hash brown were soggy. High in sodium and saturated fat. Being in a room filled with Robin Williams clones.

REVIEW: Jack in the Box Mini Churros

Marvo 22 Comments

Mmm…churros.

They’re a staple at carnivals, amusement parks, sports stadiums, movie theaters, Renaissance Fairs, Civil War battle reenactments, and underground cockfights. But now you can get them any time you want, without having to pay admission, dress up in clothing with poofy shoulders, or choose whether you’re a part of the Union or Confederacy, just as long as you have a Jack in the Box nearby.

The Jack in the Box Mini Churros are shaped like most churros — they look like something that comes out of a Play-Doh fun factory, except it doesn’t come in psychedelic colors that makes the hippies say “whoa” and the little kiddies scream. You can get them in either five or ten bite-sized pieces. I purchased the five-piece one, which was reasonably priced and, when combined, seemed to equal a regular-length churro.

The churros may look like shorter versions of the ones you eat after flashing your boobs on Disneyland’s Splash Mountain, but instead of the traditional sprinkling of the sugar and cinnamon on the churro, the mini churros are injected with a cinnamon and sugar filling.

The cinnamon and sugar on a regular churro you got after taking a spin on the gravity machine at the county fair is there to cover the greasy taste of the fried dough, but the cinnamon and sugar filling in the Jack in the Box Mini Churros wasn’t very successful with masking the oily taste. There’s a hint of cinnamon and sugar, but since it appears everything was dipped in oil, the sweet flavors hardly survived after being fried. The only good thing about them being fried is that they’re crunchy, but then again, everything that’s fried is crunchy.

It’s hard to believe it’s taken this long for one of the big fast food chains to deliver their own version of the deep-fried pastry, after all if there’s any group that’s known for their deep-frying, it’s fast food chains…and people with really crispy turkeys on Thanksgiving. I’m surprised Taco Bell didn’t come out with a churro before everyone else, since they’re number one in fake-Mexican fast food. Yes, I know they have cinnamon twists, but why don’t call them churros? Maybe churros are just too authentic for them.

Since I didn’t really care for the Jack in the Box Mini Churros, I guess I must continue getting my deep-fried cinnamon and sugar pastries at underground cockfights. I just hope I don’t say the wrong password before I enter.

Item: Jack in the Box Mini Churros
Price: $1.49 ($1.00 in the rest of the US)
Size: 5 pieces
Purchased at: Jack in the Box
Rating: 3 out of 10
Pros: Reasonably priced. Crunchy. Bite-sized. Play-Doh.
Cons: Greasy-tasting. Not very sugary or cinnamon-y. Sugar and cinnamon are injected in filling form, instead of being sprinkled on. Getting churros at underground cockfights. Saying the wrong password at a cockfight.

REVIEW: Subway Chicken Pizziola

Reprobate 28 Comments

Ah…Subway, the only chain restaurant publicly endorsed by a formerly fat guy. I especially love their new marketing gimmick advertising the $5 footlong where everyone shows five fingers and then parts their hands about a foot apart. But I think that we all know what that “foot long” really represents: the male wang. And is it mere coincidence that the average wang is around 5 inches? I think not and I’m damn proud to say I have an average phallus. But you didn’t come here to hear me rant about male phallus conspiracies or penis euphemisms.

The Subway Chicken Pizziola sub supposedly fuses the awesome powers of chicken and pizza flavors. Of course, when you consider that Subway uses bland chicken and isn’t a pizza shop whatsoever, well, expectations fall flatter than a flaccid wang. It also doesn’t help that the full 12 inches is packing enough salt to kill a platoon of tough snails and has 32 grams of fat, which is probably why Jared isn’t anywhere near this sandwich. God bless his tiny little khakis.

This toasted sandwich comes standard with one of their breads, chicken, pepperoni slices, a cheese, and a marinara sauce as well as any extra toppings. I had mine outfitted with black olives, green peppers, and red onions. The marinara sauce was a little too sweet and overpowering, dominating the bland chicken and weak pepperoni slices. The fact that its papery condom came with red oily streaks is also a bit of a downer. Still, the bread was decent (certainly better than the kind that comes with a twisty tie or a plastic toe tag) and retained its toasty crunch after a short transport from the Subway to my cubicle at work. The veggie add-ons also provided some crunch and kept some of their flavor, thanks to the cheese’s protective barrier. It also helps that this sandwich is big enough to silence a hungry sex machine with a real footlong and it’s only five bucks before taxes.

The Subway Chicken Pizziola is not a bad sandwich, but certainly not a good one either. I think I’ll stick with their chicken bacon ranch footlong as my default Subway sandwich for the time being, even if it’s packing enough fat to shrink my wang into the folds of my flesh.

(Nutrition Facts – 1 footlong – 880 calories, 32 grams of fat, 12 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 160 milligrams of cholesterol, 3040 milligrams of sodium, 96 grams of carbohydrates, 12 grams of dietary fiber, 18 grams of sugar, and 61 grams of protein.)

Item: Subway Chicken Pizziola
Price: $5.30
Size: Footlong
Purchased at: Subway
Rating: 6 out of 10
Pros: Big enough to satisfy a hungry sex machine. Being proud of having an average “footlong” Penis euphemisms. The awesome powers of pizza and chicken, tiny khakis, and sex machines. $5.
Cons: Male phallus conspiracies. Overpowering sweet tomato sauce. Bland chicken. Weak pepperoni. 3,040 milligrams of sodium. Flaccid and shrinking wangs.

Wendy’s Flavor-Dipped Chicken Sandwiches (BBQ & Buffalo)

Marvo 22 Comments

Dipping a chicken patty into a sauce like you’re trying to get it to admit it’s a witch sounds like a great way to ensure there’s flavor in every bite, such is the case with the new Wendy’s Flavor-Dipped Chicken Sandwiches, but a sauce soaked piece of chicken is also a spectacular way to ruin an $80 shirt from Banana Republic or hide your mistress’ lipstick stain on your collar from your girlfriend/wife.

The Flavor-Dipped Chicken Sandwich comes in two flavors: BBQ and Buffalo. The BBQ version also consists of onions and pickles inside a bun, while the Buffalo version is also made up of lettuce, tomatoes, and a blue cheese sauce in between a bun. While both mostly have different ingredients, they have one thing in common — both are extremely fucking messy. After eating one, my hands were covered in enough sauce that it looked like I was the one who sensually massaged the sauce onto the chicken patty. A napkin was not enough to clean the mess, I needed a shower. Okay, I’m exaggerating a little bit, but I did use enough napkins to make an Ent cry.

The chicken patties for both sandwiches may have gotten dipped in sauce like a nerd’s head in a toilet, but the flavors weren’t as strong as I thought it would be. The BBQ sauce wasn’t very tangy and the Buffalo sauce wasn’t as spicy as Hooters wings. Although, the Buffalo sandwich might not have been too spicy because of the blue cheese sauce, which I didn’t even know it had until I researched the sandwich on the Wendy’s website. The pickles and onions in the BBQ version of the sandwich definitely enhanced its flavor and gave it a little more crunch, while the lettuce and tomatoes in the Buffalo one will allow some people to proclaim they had vegetables today.

Overall, both sandwiches were decent tasting, but I really expected more out of them, not only in taste, but also in size. These sandwiches weren’t very big, but I reckoned them to be because I paid almost five bucks for each of them. Apparently, not only is gas an expensive liquid, but so are BBQ and Buffalo sauces. So I guess I’d better hoard the stuff whenever I order Chicken McNuggets and scrape it off my $80 Banana Republic shirt whenever I spill some on it.

(Nutrition Facts – 1 sandwich – Buffalo – 530 calories, 220 calories from fat, 24 grams of fat, 4.5 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 50 milligrams of cholesterol, 1840 milligrams of sodium, 510 milligrams of potassium, 52 grams of carbs, 2 grams of fiber, 8 grams of sugar, 26 grams of protein, 15% Vitamin A, 10% Vitamin C, 10% Calcium, and 15% Iron. BBQ – 450 calories, 110 calories from fat, 12 grams of fat, 2 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams trans fat, 40 milligrams cholesterol, 1430 milligrams sodium, 450 milligrams potassium, 60 grams carbs, 2 grams of fiber, 18 grams of sugar, 25 grams of protein, 2% Vitamin A, 8% Vitamin C, 8% Calcium, and 15% Iron.)

Item: Wendy’s Flavor-Dipped Chicken Sandwiches (BBQ & Buffalo)
Price: $4.69 each
Purchased at: Wendy’s
Rating: 6 out of 10 (BBQ)
Rating: 6 out of 10 (Buffalo)
Pros: Decent tasting. Lots of sauce. BBQ one is “healthier” than Buffalo version. Wonderful source of protein. Pickles and onions in BBQ version. Lettuce and tomatoes are vegetables.
Cons: Flavors weren’t as strong as I expected for something that’s dipped in sauce. BBQ sauce wasn’t very tangy and Buffalo sauce wasn’t very spicy. Blue cheese sauce wasn’t very noticeable. Pricey for what you get. Extremely fucking messy. Making Ents cry. Wonderful source of sodium. Ruining an $80 Banana Republic shirt with sauce. Excessive napkin use. Trying to get a piece of chicken to admit it’s a witch.