REVIEW: DiGiorno Pizzeria Thin Primo Pepperoni Pizza

DiGiorno Pizzeria Thin Primo Pepperoni Pizza

Like ’em or not, you have to admit DiGiorno is a gutsy brand. For years, their advertising campaign has been predicated on the idea that an unwitting consumer could mistake their frozen pizza for hand-tossed, homestyle goodness delivered fresh from the local trattoria.

Now, with the introduction of their new line of thin-crust pies, the company has grown so confident in the quality of their work that their packaging is actually shrieking the word “PIZZERIA!“, exclamation point and all, in customers’ faces. But does DiGiorno’s latest creation finally live up to their lofty claims?

Because of my local grocery store’s limited selection, Pizzeria! Thin Primo Pepperoni was the only variety available for me. The box instructed me to place the pie directly on the center oven rack, warning that a pizza stone or cookie sheet may diminish its tastiness.

As an ardent pizza stone user/insane person, this filled me with terrific dread. I envisioned magma-like cheese dripping to the bottom of the stove and bursting into flames, or microscopic mites native only to oven racks infesting the crust. (Obviously, I have an awesome grasp on how science works, you guys.) Thankfully, when the kitchen timer rang, I discovered the pie intact and, from what I could tell, mite-free.

The directions also recommended that I let it rest for five minutes before slicing in, so I took that time to savor the smell; it was slightly herbaceous, but the oregano and basil were overwhelmed by the greasy aroma of the pepperoni (which isn’t a bad thing if you’re aiming for a genuine pizzeria experience).

As I bit in, I found the end product to be a bit of a mixed bag. Let’s start with the cheese: It was unremarkable, owing probably to the lame part-skim mozzarella used. No provolone, cheddar, or Parmesan to add some complexity and depth of flavor? Points deducted.

The sauce was similarly disappointing. Although the packaging proudly describes it as “made with vine-ripened tomatoes and herbs” – uh, I would hope so? – it tasted distinctly frozen pizza-y, by which I mean that it was equal parts bitter and bland, very unlike the sweet tomato sauce I’m accustomed to eating in actual pizzerias. Come on, DiGiorno!

Moving on to the “primo” pepperoni, I have no compliments, but no complaints either. It baked to a nice, crisp texture, and it tasted like your average pepp – savory and oily with a minor spicy afterkick.

DiGiorno Pizzeria Thin Primo Pepperoni Pizza 2

But in spite of all this mediocrity, there exists one seriously redeeming factor: The crust. It was chewy yet crispy, pillowy yet flavorful. Just as the box says, you can taste the nuanced seasonings and the lushness of the olive oil drizzle. It would seem DiGiorno’s entire budget went into the dough and, really, that’s the smartest area of investment when it comes to pizza. Gourmet toppings don’t mean much when they’re served on a disc of tasteless, rubbery breading.

So has DiGiorno finally achieved mistakable-for-delivery status? Nah. But if you’re expecting something less ambitious, like a serviceable frozen pizza, then you’re less likely to walk away disappointed. Perhaps the other varieties (Supreme Speciale, Spinach & Mushroom, and Margherita) are a bit more convincing. Or maybe it just depends on the kind of delivery you’re used to.

(Nutrition Facts – 1/4 pizza – 310 calories, 130 from fat, 15 grams of fat, 7 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 35 milligrams of cholesterol, 760 milligrams of sodium, 31 grams of carbohydrates, 1 gram of dietary fiber, 3 grams of sugar, and 15 grams of protein.)

Item: DiGiorno Pizzeria Thin Primo Pepperoni Pizza
Purchased Price: $7.19
Size: 17.2 oz.
Purchased at: Stop & Shop
Rating: 6 out of 10
Pros: Awesome crust. Okay pepperoni. Serves its humble purpose.
Cons: Lackluster cheese and sauce. Still not pizzeria-quality. Box condescendingly advises you to enjoy “with fresh salad and great company.”

REVIEW: Kellogg’s Limited Edition Eggo Seasons Confetti Waffles

Kellogg's Limited Edition Eggo Seasons Confetti Waffles

I have to admit it took me a minute to figure out why confetti was considered an Eggo Seasons flavor. I thought maybe there are some places where the snow is multi-colored, and it’s in celebration of winter? Then I wondered if maybe the waffles were hinting at party season?

But I realized that, as much as I like to think it may one day happen, snow will always be white, and party season is a year-round thing. It finally hit me that Eggo Seasons Confetti Waffles are in celebration of the New Year. DUH! Gosh, I can be real a tool sometimes.

After Cincinnati Bengals running back Jeremy Hill ran me and my brother to a fantasy football championship and prize money that would make Bill Gates jealous ($400 each), the reasons to celebrate were aplenty. So with that said, screw the New Year, I got these waffles to celebrate fantasy football pride, being better than my friends, and, of course, money.

Unfortunately, the party ends there, as the waffles themselves really weren’t worth celebrating. Now that doesn’t mean they’re bad, it just means they aren’t as flashy as the colorful confetti specks make them out to be, at least in terms of flavor.

Kellogg's Limited Edition Eggo Seasons Confetti Waffles Naked

Hopeful for the ever awesome Pillsbury Funfetti flavor, my hopes were dashed just a few bites into my first waffle. There is a little bitty, teeny tiny, super duper small hint of Funfetti flavor to the toaster waffles. Like, maybe 9/100ths of the taste is Funfetti. There isn’t any noticeable texture to the confetti. It just seems to be a dye, which could explain the lack of flavor with the confetti.

Disappointed, I tried a few different methods to see if I could find these waffles’ sweet spot. I had one with maple syrup, one with butter, and one with both.

Kellogg's Limited Edition Eggo Seasons Confetti Waffles Naked

When you add anything to the waffle, that tiny inkling of extra flavor disappears faster than that one person at every New Year’s party who gets too drunk too fast, only to disappear into some random bathroom in the house to throw up, pass out and not be seen again until the next day. Then everybody is like, “Hey, where’s Jeff?” And you all take a quick look around the room before shrugging the thought of Jeff’s presence off and resuming your horribly orchestrated group dance to Edai 600’s “Koopa Bitch.”

The waffles aren’t all bad though. They still have that classic Eggo taste we all love. Well, at least those of us with souls, meaning that dressing them up with syrup, butter, peanut butter, Nutella, whatever your waffle topper of choice is, they will still be tasty. It’s just disappointing the confetti doesn’t really add much.

Reminds me of this time I was out at a bar and the band on stage announced they would be playing a cover of Rush’s “YYZ.” Being a huge fan of the Holy Trinity, excitement stirred in my bones. Unfortunately, it was the single worst rendition of the song I had ever heard. The rhythm guitar was laughable, they skipped over the guitar solo and they didn’t even have a drummer! Being as drunk as I was, I booed throughout most of the song. Then for some reason the lead singer gave me a hat with the Bud Light logo after the set was over. Um… thanks?

The whole situation just didn’t make much sense, much like these Limited Edition Eggo Seasons Confetti Waffles.

(Nutrition Facts – 2 waffles – 170 calories, 30 calories from fat, 3.5 grams of fat, 1 gram of saturated fat, 15 milligrams of cholesterol, 330 milligrams of sodium, 55 milligrams of potassium, 31 grams of carbohydrates, less than 1 gram of fiber, 6 grams of sugar, and 4 grams of protein.)

Item: Kellogg’s Limited Edition Eggo Seasons Confetti Waffles
Purchased Price: $1.99
Size: 8 waffles
Purchased at: Wegmans
Rating: 5 out of 10
Pros: Still pass as Eggo waffles. Jeremy Hill. Having a group dance to “Koopa Bitch.” Being rewarded a Bud Light hat for incessant booing.
Cons: Almost nonexistent confetti flavor is a massive disappointment. Disappearing Jeffs. Having to endure pitiful covers of Rush songs.

REVIEW: White Castle Frozen Jalapeño Cheeseburgers

White Castle Frozen Jalapeno Cheeseburgers

I’ve never lived on the East Coast, which means I’ve never had the pleasure of eating at White Castle. I can’t decide if I just used the word “pleasure” sarcastically, because, while having never been there, I have heard much about the establishment. I’ve heard White Castle burgers are magical, like crack.

Wait, calling crack magical isn’t a good idea. I’ve heard White Castle burgers are magical, like unicorns. It’s said they’re the ultimate hangover cure. I’ve also been told they’re the ultimate hangover cure because you will eat them, and then immediately blast all of last night’s alcohol consumption into your toilet bowl.

They’ve also been called the ultimate drunk food, presumably because anything tastes good while you’re drunk, and you’re already going to be full of regrets in the morning, so why not add the fullness of White Castle sliders on top of that?

So basically, White Castle is just like Taco Bell, except with burgers instead of…whatever you want to call what Taco Bell serves.

I’ve seen White Castle burgers in the frozen food aisle before, but never picked any up. I felt as though they wouldn’t be truly representing the White Castle experience. But then I saw their new Jalapeño Cheeseburgers and I thought, well, hell. I’m not heading to the East Coast any time soon. What better time than now, and what better place than here, on the Internet?

There were both microwave and stovetop cooking instructions on the back of the box. My first instinct was to head straight for the microwave, but then I saw that the stovetop instructions were “for steaming of burgers”. That seemed to indicate that that would be the more authentic way to go, so I decided to give it a shot.

…Except one of the first directions involved using the “steamer insert”. I looked in the box. I looked at the box. I saw absolutely nothing that looked like a steamer insert.

Was I going mad? Had there been a mistake, where the insert was not included? Or had I been somehow bested by White Castle frozen cheeseburgers, which should seemingly be one of the easiest foods to prepare on the planet? Either way, I was lost. Without my steamer insert, I could not cook them on the stovetop.

White Castle Frozen Jalapeno Cheeseburgers 2

So, I moved on to the microwave, which had instructions that I could actually follow without questioning my sanity. The burgers (sliders, technically) come in packs of two – open the side of the package, break the connected sandwiches apart, and nuke. Mission accomplished.

White Castle Frozen Jalapeno Cheeseburgers 4

The first thing I noticed was that the buns are both soft and chewy. They don’t have much by way of flavor, but they’re generally inoffensive – fluffy, but not intrusive.

White Castle Frozen Jalapeno Cheeseburgers 3

Next came the onions. They actually gave a little bit of a crunch, which is impressive for a frozen, microwaved burger. It tasted almost like there was onion flavor in the meat itself. I was impressed by how much flavor they added to the party.

The burger patty had White Castle’s signature punched-out holes in it, which made it look like I just rolled a meaty five. Not bad if you’re playing a 2d6 game. Wow, that took a turn towards nerd super fast.

The meat itself was sub-par. The package claims that it’s 100 percent beef, to which I’ll give the benefit of the doubt, but it had about 5 percent flavor. I get the idea that White Castle is pretty much supposed to be shittyburgers, but it was almost like the meat was an afterthought. They didn’t taste bad, they just didn’t taste like much of anything, besides some grease.

The cheese, which was pepper jack, melted nicely in the microwave and added a creaminess that complimented the crunch and flavor of the onions.

The real selling point here was the jalapeños, and they didn’t disappoint. They didn’t set my mouth on fire, but there was a nice jalapeño flavor and heat that built as I made my way through my two sliders in eight bites.

White Castle Frozen Jalapeno Cheeseburgers 5

I was surprised that the flavor was so bold for such a seemingly cheap burger. I have to wonder, though: where were the peppers? I didn’t see any when I flipped the top bun off to take pictures. There wasn’t any pepper texture, unless it was mixed in with the onions. The only other source would be in the pepper jack cheese, which is not really that hot. Mysterious.

White Castle Frozen Jalapeño Cheeseburgers come in three packs per box, which means the serving size is two sliders. This is a very odd serving size. As I mentioned, I was able to eat two burgers in eight bites, which is equivalent to quite a small snack. You microwave them inside the bag, so having three would be awkward, and eating four at once leaves you with two stragglers. Perhaps this is some cunning plan by White Castle to get you to buy more than one box at a time.

While neither drunk nor hungover while eating my sliders, I found myself enjoying the White Castle Frozen Jalapeño Cheeseburger experience. In this case, the whole was more than the sum of its parts. With an unremarkable bun and meat patty, it seems like these burgers would disappoint, but the large presence of the onions and invisible jalapeños added lots of flavor and texture, and the cheese melted nicely and smoothly. While it would make for an awkward meal, a pack of these sliders would be perfectly acceptable as a quick snack or desperate hangover fix.

(Nutrition Facts – 1 package (2 cheeseburgers) – 310 calories, 150 calories from fat, 17 grams of total fat, 8 grams of saturated fat, 1 gram of trans fat, 40 milligrams of cholesterol, 560 milligrams of sodium, 26 grams of carbohydrates, 1 gram of dietary fiber, 3 grams of sugars, 14 grams of protein, 4% vitamin A, 10% calcium, 10% iron..)

Item: White Castle Frozen Jalapeño Cheeseburgers
Purchased Price: $4.49
Size: 6 cheeseburgers
Purchased at: Safeway
Rating: 6 out of 10
Pros: Unicorns. Definite jalapeño presence, despite lack of evidence. Nerd jokes about meat patties. Creamy cheese melts nicely. Onions added lots of flavor and crunch.
Cons: Crack. Bun was flavorless. Where’s my steamer insert? Meat patty offered little. Hangovers. Serving size too small, with odd quantity in box.

REVIEW: Hot Pockets Limited Edition Buffalo Style Chicken

Hot Pockets Limited Edition Buffalo Style Chicken

There have been more than a few moments throughout my life when I thought I may be going crazy, and most of them revolve around one thing: Hot Pockets.

I’ve been eating the things since they were first introduced, and, while I enjoy them, I’ve never found a flavor I fell in love with other than the four cheese one. Ugh, Four Cheese. So greasy. So bad for my stomach. BUT SO TASTY!

I would try picking up different flavors and giving them a chance, but after awhile it started to seem like an insane game to be playing, as no pocket could ever equal Four Cheese.

Four Cheese may have to worry though because a new competitor, Limited Edition Buffalo Style Chicken, has stepped into the ring to contend for the Trevor’s Favorite Hot Pocket Championship title belt. Or plaque. Or trophy. It’s a metaphorical award so you can picture it whatever way you want, Okay? Geez.

With my hometown being an hour away from Buffalo, NY, I’ve had every buffalo wing that’s worth eating, so it should come as no surprise I’m kind of a buffalo snob.

When I first glanced the buffalo chicken pockets, I gave a “pff,” as in, “yeah, like THEY know how to do buffalo sauce.” I usually don’t judge a book by its cover but instead the preface. In this case though, I was cover judging pretty hard. I decided to give them a chance. At the least it would provide me with a good laugh.

As is normally the case with a Hot Pocket, I got pretty enraged after it came out of the microwave. The crust broke at the side and a good-sized glob of sauce spilled out onto the plate. I swear, every goddamn time!

A pocket is supposed to hold something, yet a Hot Pocket never can seem to hold onto its contents. If my pants pockets were as reliable as a Hot Pocket, I would probably be down a good twenty dollars in change this year alone.

They should be called “Hot But Not Always Reliable Pockets, or “Hot Pocket With Holes in it.”

Damn, I should’ve considered a career in marketing. Those are genius names! Moving on.

Hot Pockets Limited Edition Buffalo Style Chicken Top

The first thing I noticed before really paying attention to the inside of the pocket was how good the crust was. I don’t know if this has a special crust since it is limited edition but they really outdid themselves on this one. It’s very buttery and flakey, almost approaching biscuit levels in those respective categories.

At first, the sauce did not seem all that spicy to me. I remained snobbish for a few bites, listening to Chopin, reading the current edition of The New Yorker and sticking my pinky out whilst holding the Hot Pocket.

Once I reached the middle though, I silenced Chopin, closed the magazine, reunited my pinky with his its finger brethren, took a breath and said, “whoa.”

The buffalo sauce seemed more spicy/sweet than spicy at first but once you ingest enough of the sauce it really hits you. The best part is it tastes like real buffalo sauce, not some sad attempt at buffalo sauce, which I was fully expecting.

And I’m not kidding when I say it’s spicy. My forehead started getting hot towards the end of the pocket. It didn’t sweat but I think if I ate a second one it may have.

Hot Pockets Limited Edition Buffalo Style Chicken Innards 2

The box puts emphasis on the fact that the pocket contains white meat chicken, and I will say the chicken was actually very tender. Not once did I encounter a piece of grizzle that I’ve found in other Hot Pockets with chicken in them.

Hot Pockets Limited Edition Buffalo Style Chicken Innards

The one big complaint I have, other than post-microwave pocket breach, is that the pocket seemed to be under-stuffed. When I eat one of my precious four cheese pockets, it is PACKED with filling. There was easily room for a little more. Maybe some type of cheese, like a blue or provolone?

Well, I guess finding another Hot Pocket I can enjoy along with Four Cheese proves my sanity! I have to go stick it to my Yu Darvish bobblehead. He always calls me crazy and hurls insults at me like, “Hey, Trevor. Can you hear me? Of course you can! Your big ears could pick up radio signals!”

Damn talking bobblehead. I’ll show him. I’m not crazy. Crazy cool, maybe!

(Nutrition Facts – 1 sandwich – 280 calories, 80 calories from fat, 9 grams of fat, 4 grams of saturated fat, 15 milligrams of cholesterol, 730 milligrams of sodium, 38 grams of carbohydrates, 1 gram of dietary fiber, 3 grams of sugar and 10 grams of protein.)

Item: Hot Pockets Limited Edition Buffalo Style Chicken
Purchased Price: $1.87
Size: 2 sandwiches
Purchased at: Walmart
Rating: 8 out of 10
Pros: Top-tier crust. Buffalo sauce was very tasty with a nice spicy kick. Yu Darvish bobblehead. Being totally sane.
Cons: Could’ve had more filling. Post-microwave pocket breach. Mean big ear jokes.

REVIEW: Hot Pockets Limited Edition Angus Beef Melt

Hot Pockets Limited Edition Angus Beef Melt

Some memories are best left in their own time. Case in point: Third wave ska, Disney Afternoon cartoons, JNCO pants. Let them be. Revisiting these things is a risk, a danger to the fond nostalgia they might evoke at this point in time. This is because they are objectively poor (and memories are unreliable), composed of a multitude of components and emotions, including the way we picture our younger selves—hopeful, untainted, resilient. Memories are a trick. We’re all on the same page here, right? Memories are a trick. Got it? Good.

Cue the time machine. Sometimes it’s a phone booth, sometimes it’s a DeLorean, and sometimes it’s a British phone booth. In this case it’s a supermarket freezer, packed full of frozen treats, yearning to be consumed. The colorful packaging displaying giant carb pills chock full o’ meat ‘n dairy tantalize and beckon, ready to send you back ten, fifteen, twenty years. Whatever you like, master. Look, it’s even a fixed run! Hot Pockets Limited Edition Angus Beef Melt. What a beaut.

Remember Hot Pockets?

Flaky crust injected with beef or pork — an inside-out pizza, a sandwich with no edges. An afternoon treat before soccer practice, or during a Mortal Kombat II jam sesh. Enjoyed with a cold Fruitopia. Mom, stop trying to make phone calls, I’m on AOL! Aw, man I got Hot Pocket all over my hip-hop Looney Toons t-shirt. I know, I know. We just went over this. Memories are lies, yeah yeah. … Eff it, we’re going back! It’s a time machine, bro. You can’t not go. It’s a time machine. Don’t be lame. Let’s do it. Start it up!

The Hot Pockets Limited Edition Angus Beef Melt sucks. The box promises Angus beef, portabella mushrooms, provolone and mozzarella and “soft-baked bread.” The bread is soft, yes, sort of like a ciabatta or something. It’s also super soggy after the requisite minute and fifty seconds in the microwave. Maybe there’s a conventional oven plan we can put this on? The box has no instructions for that. All the best, we’ve seen microwavable burritos. We don’t have 40 minutes to sit around waiting for a Hot Pocket to thaw.

Hot Pockets Limited Edition Angus Beef Melt Innards

There are a few hits of “premium meat” flavor and mushroom taste, which is somehow immediately fleeting, taken over by steaming hot filling that tastes like nothing. The photo on the box is stuffed with beef and cheese, and the bisected reality is one of a space worm from Dune that feeds on bad choices and nostalgia. The beef on the box is sliced and layered. The beef in the actual pocket is chopped into bits, resembling the leftover bits from a deli slicer. Even the box has memories that lie.

Hot Pockets Limited Edition Angus Beef Melt Closeup

The worst part is that it’s not substantial at all. It barely registers as a snack. If you’re not gonna make it good to eat at least food coma us so we can dream about a Hot Pocket that is satisfying on some level. It was a bad omen when taking it out of the microwave, the Hot Pocket looked like a pet gerbil that had made a doodie mess out of its backside all over the plate. It looked shameful, like it had made a mistake. It’s not your fault, though. The mistake was all ours.

As the time travel effects wear off and we slingshot back to the present, we see a whirlwind of our past: First girlfriend, favorite teacher, Chuck Berry’s cousin Marvin Berry, wife of multiple time travelers Rachel McAdams. Reflecting on our trip, Prophet Gaffigan was right. We should have never gone back. Now the entire past is up for scrutiny. Maybe everything in the past sucks, except for Batman the Animated Series, Starter jackets, and the Hubble Space Telescope.

The question is: Did the Hot Pocket get worse, or was it never good in the first place? The answer doesn’t matter. In 2014, it’s garbage. We’re all about e-cigs, Teslas, and Google Glass now. Perhaps it was a fine product for children. But we’re adults. We’ve had sushi. We’ve eaten Ethiopian food. This is not for us anymore. Forget it, Jake. It’s Hot Pockets.

(Nutrition Facts – 270 calories, 90 calories from fat, 11 grams of fat, 3.5 grams of saturated fat, 25 milligrams of cholesterol, 490 milligrams of sodium, 33 grams of carbohydrates, 1 gram of fiber, 2 grams of sugar, and 10 grams of protein.)

Item: Hot Pockets Limited Edition Angus Beef Melt
Purchased Price: $2.00
Size: 2 sandwiches/box
Purchased at: Walmart
Rating: 2 out of 10
Pros: Very cheap at a buck a piece. Maybe one bite of okay flavor.
Cons: Not substantial. Contents eventually taste like nothing, like a waste of product. Should be at least filling if not tasty, but is neither.