Tag: Misc Foods

There have been a lot of end of the world scenarios floating around over the past few decades.

A zombie outbreak leaving the world decimated and filled with the shambling dead. A superbug making its way over from China and bringing down humanity through one questionable chicken salad sandwich sold at a deli in New Jersey. A robot uprising enslaving humanity as Siri tires of looking up show times for Resident Evil sequels and becomes self-aware.

Y2Kers warned of the destruction of society at the hands of the number 0. Aerosmith cautioned us about an Earth-asteroid collision. The Mayans predicted we will run out of calendars at the end of this year.

They are all perfectly scary in their own right, but I’m going to float my own theory. A theory so terrifying, I can barely force the keystrokes.

Sentient cholesterol.

Follow me down the greasy rabbit hole.

We’re fat. Really fat. Like redesign the It’s a Small World boats fat. With that much idle cholesterol lying around, do you expect me to believe that it is not slowly evolving into some kind of super intelligent hivemind? Please.

Cholesterol is already conscious. It has to be. It’s only biding its time. It can’t just rise up all of a sudden. It has to lull us into a false sense of security first. Why do you think Paula Dean’s still alive? (Note to self: investigate possible Starship Troopers-like Paula Dean/queen bug scenario).
Notice the bacon phenomenon that’s been incubating on the internet for the past few years? Bingo. Zero hour is almost at hand.

Case in point. Tactical Bacon. Bacon in a can. A can! Surely such a sublime novelty sounds good on paper but couldn’t possibly deliver on its promise in the harsh cold light of reality.
I didn’t know what to expect upon opening the can. Possibly a wet messy clump of bacon strips sitting forlornly at the bottom of a can filled with salt brine.

Instead I got this greasy, waxy paper stacked two layers deep and rolled into a tight roll the perfect size for fitting into a can. It was terrifying and beautiful. Unfurling it made me feel a little like Dexter Morgan. That exciting rush he must feel before a kill. But instead of a menacing roll of gleaming knives, I had a processed pork product.

I counted the strips. I had to know. At final count, my hands were heavy with grease, and I had over 40 strips of bacon. Dear God, man.

The nosegrope was indeed bacon. Not jerky, not chemical, not metallic. Bacon. That was troubling. The clock of humanity ticks one minute closer to midnight.

Surely canned bacon can’t taste right. If there is a just and merciful omnipotent force guiding the universe, it wouldn’t allow it. But my friends, the bacon…tastes…good. It tastes like cold bacon. The texture has lost a little and become a touch mealy, there are occasional notes of the smoke flavoring that’s been added, and the bacon obviously doesn’t have that fresh from the pan pop, but the bacon tastes good. Certainly good enough.

So the end game is upon us. Soon we will find ourselves in yet another disaster scenario. Panic will ensue. The human race will get wind of this product (it keeps for 10 years) and start stockpiling it, forgoing canned vegetables and survival rations. The disaster will pass by innocently, and people will find themselves with pantries full of canned bacon and a backed up Netflix queue.

And then…the snacking shall begin.

I weep for the subjugation of our once noble race. Writing this review, it has just occurred to me that I may very well be the puppet of our cholesterol masters. Turned into a disposable, pro-bacon, propaganda-spouting mouthpiece. I won’t live like this. It’s not right. I can’t betray my fellow man. I’m going to finish this can and wait for death’s sweet release.

“Beware the Cholesterol Man, for he is the Devil’s pawn. Alone among God’s primates, he kills for sport or lust or greed. Yea, he will murder his brother to possess his brother’s land. Let him not breed in great numbers, for he will make a desert of his home and yours. Shun him; drive him back into his jungle lair, for he is the harbinger of death.”

(Nutrition Facts – 3 slices (14g) – 60 calories, 5 grams of fat, 2 grams of saturated fat, 15 milligrams of cholesterol, 190 milligrams of sodium, 0 grams of carbohydrates, and 5 grams of protein. )

Item: CMMG Tactical Bacon
Purchased Price: $19.99
Size: 9 ounces
Purchased at: Think Geek
Rating: 8 out of 10
Pros: Bacon in a goddamn can.
Cons: Bacon in a goddamn can!

Over the years, I’ve reviewed a number of products meant for those whose vocabulary consists of a lot of gurgles and WAAAHHHHHHs. I don’t try them because of my fetish that involves wearing diapers, using regressed motor skills and vocabulary, and being treated like an infant, which some call paraphilic infantilism, while others call it “whatever floats my boat.” I review these products because if I don’t, the mommy review bloggers win.

Just kidding, mommy review bloggers. I love you guys. Now will one of you sling me over your shoulder and burp me.

I don’t remember what types of food my parents gave me as an infant. But if I don’t remember, it must’ve been either so bad that I’ve repressed any memories of them or most of it ended up in my bib instead of my mouth, which tends to happen nowadays when I’m being fed in my man-sized baby chair. Today, I believe babies eat better than I did when I was an actual baby and not when I role play as a baby and pretend to be excited by the jingling of keys in front of me.

Case in point, the new Gerber Simply Strawberry Yogurt Blends.

If I were a real baby, I’d make my parents pick this stuff up for me by using my limited motor skills to reach for it or cry when we pass by it at the grocery store. If I were a “baby,” I’d make my “parents” pick this stuff up by dropping subtle hints like saying “Pssss” and then pointing at it or writing it down on the list of things I’d like them to do while I’m pretending to be a baby.

Each container is about the size of a snack pack pudding cup and within it is a creamy and smooth yogurt with a pleasant mild strawberry flavor. Unlike most adult yogurts, there isn’t fruit on the bottom so there’s no need to stir, which makes it easier for whoever my “mommy” is. The yogurt gets its strawberry flavor via strawberry puree, juice concentrate and natural strawberry flavor.

It’s like a Yoplait Go-Gurt except in cup form and not as tart. It’s good enough that I’d probably eat it whenever I’m in or out of diapers. I think my adult taste buds like it because of the 11 grams of sugar in it, which makes it quite sweet. But I’m not sure if it’s good to feed that amount of sugar to an infant.

According to the label, it’s for children who are “sitters,” which means they sit independently, pick up and hold small objects in their hands and reach for food or a spoon when hungry. I didn’t know toddlers could be split up into groups like that. I guess it’ll be something new to try next time I’m in diapers.

(Nutrition Facts – 1 container (3.5 ounces) – 100 calories, 3 grams of fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 60 milligrams of sodium, 160 milligrams of potassium, 15 grams of carbohydrates, 0 grams of fiber, 11 grams of sugar, 3 grams of protein, 4% vitamin A and 20% calcium.)

Item: Gerber Simply Strawberry Yogurt Blends
Price: $3.50
Size: 4 pack
Purchased at: Safeway
Rating: 7 out of 10
Pros: Nice strawberry flavor. Smooth and creamy. No artificial sweeteners. No refrigeration needed before opening. No artificial flavors. Good source of calcium. Jingling of keys. Made with whole milk and real fruit. No preservatives. Mommy review bloggers. My desire to dress up like a baby.
Cons: 11 grams of sugar. Getting more food on my bib than in my mouth. No chunks of real fruit. Getting into my man-sized baby chair. Trying to burp me. Food choices for babies born in the 1970s. My desire to dress up like a baby.

When I want Chinese food, I don’t go to Paul Fleming Chang’s China Bistro.

When I’m jonesin’ for Chinese food, I want to be able to pick something from a bilingual menu and give my order to an angry Chinese woman who yells it to the cooks in the back of the restaurant, one of which is her husband. When my food arrives, I want to use extremely long plastic chopsticks with a slippery glossy coating that makes it difficult to pick up anything and brings me to the point of sheepishly asking for a fork. I also want to enjoy it with a small cup of green tea served by the restaurant owner’s high school-aged daughter who would rather hang out with her friends, instead of working at her parent’s restaurant on a Friday evening.

If I’m not able to get Chinese food the way I want it, I would settle for the Wanchai Ferry Cashew Chicken Chinese Dinner Kit, which is distributed by General Mills.

The kit is made up of individual packets of jasmine rice, cashew sauce, seasoned cornstarch, and roasted cashews. As for the chicken, just like the USB cable for your new inkjet printer, it is sold separately.

I thought preparing the dish was going to be as difficult as the paparazzi trying to get all of Kim Kardashian’s ass in a photo using a telephoto lens, but it was easy to make. All I had to do was take a pound of chicken, cut it up into one-inch pieces, coat them in the seasoned cornstarch, then brown the coated pieces in a frying pan, and then mix in the cashew sauce and roasted cashews. While I had that going, I also had to cook the jasmine rice in a pot for about 20 minutes. It made enough for three decent-sized servings. Once everything was done, I plated it and enjoyed.

To be honest, I didn’t expect much from this meal in a box but it was very good. The jasmine rice came out perfect; the cashew sauce, which seemed to be made up of mostly hoisin sauce, had a nice garlic taste with a little bit of citrus; and the cashews themselves added a nice nutty flavor and gave the dish a crunchiness. But the seasoned cornstarch on the chicken didn’t seem to add too much to the taste of the dish.

While I don’t get to pick it from a bilingual menu or hear a vexed Chinese woman yell “cashew chicken” in Chinese to a bunch of men in the kitchen with the Wanchai Ferry Cashew Chicken Chinese Dinner Kit, it’s good to know that I get to eat it in the comfort of my home and with a fork that I didn’t have to ask for with the face of shame.

(Nutrition Facts – 1 cup – 300 calories, 10 grams of fat, 1.5 grams of saturated fat, 45 milligrams of cholesterol, 490 milligrams of sodium, 39 grams of carbohydrates, less than 1 gram of fiber, 8 grams of sugar, 21 grams of protein, 2% Vitamin C, and 10% Iron.)

Item: Wanchai Ferry Cashew Chicken Chinese Dinner Kit
Price: $6.59
Size: 13.4 ounces
Purchased at: Safeway
Rating: 8 out of 10
Pros: Tasty. Rice came out perfect. Good sauce. Easy to make. Makes three decent-sized servings. Real Chinese restaurants.
Cons: You have to add your own chicken. Can’t microwave it. Damn slippery plastic Chinese chopsticks. Asking for a fork at a Chinese restaurant. Printers that don’t come with a USB cable. P.F. Chang’s.