REVIEW: Wendy’s Cheesy Bacon Cheeseburger

Wendy’s Cheesy Bacon Cheeseburger whole

When I first saw promotional pictures of Wendy’s new Cheesy Bacon Cheeseburger, I thought the chain was offering a value menu item—something that doesn’t take a big bite out of your wallet. However, after looking at its price in the Wendy’s app, my jaw dropped enough to fit two of these Cheesy Bacon Cheeseburgers stacked on top of each other into my mouth simultaneously, because this value-looking burger cost me $7.69.

Yes, like many of my fast food reviews, you’ll see a disclaimer that things are pricier here because I live on a rock in the middle of the Pacific Ocean. But I was curious about how much other regions were paying for this burger, with a quarter-pound beef patty, Applewood-smoked bacon, two slices of American cheese, and cheddar cheese sauce on a premium bun. It can also be ordered with two or three patties, if you want to pay even more.

So I did some digging, and here’s what people around the country are paying for this thing:

  • $7.79 Seattle, WA
  • $7.69 Los Angeles, CA
  • $7.49 New York City, NY
  • $7.39 Philadelphia, PA
  • $7.29 Portland, OR
  • $6.69 Dallas, TX
  • $6.69 Des Moines, IA
  • $6.49 Kansas City, MO
  • $6.49 Miami, FL
  • $6.39 Ann Arbor, MI
  • $6.29 Chicago, IL
  • $6.19 Bountiful, UT
  • $5.99 Percell, OK
  • $5.79 Durham, NC
  • $5.29 Phoenix, AZ

Wendy’s Cheesy Bacon Cheeseburger meat and cheeses

The $7.69 I paid lands near the top of that list, but I look at the cities paying in the five- and six-dollar range, and I still feel like it’s too much for a burger that looks so unimpressive in person. Yes, it has a quarter-pound beef patty, three bacon slices, a cheddar cheese sauce, and two slices of American cheese, which justifies Wendy’s price for it, but all of them stacked on top of each other creates a menu item that makes me feel like I got pickpocketed by Wendy.

Wendy’s Cheesy Bacon Cheeseburger split

If it had a second patty, it might look more reasonable. If the cheese sauce elevated the burger’s flavor mightily, it might’ve made this taste a bit more worthwhile. While there’s a smidge of cheddar flavor, it’s not enough to make this something you must try while it’s on the menu. Overall, its flavor is pretty much what you’d expect from the bacon cheeseburger: cheesy, meaty, smoky, porky, and savory. But it’s also dinky and pricey.

Purchased Price: $7.69*
Size: Single
Rating: 5 out of 10
Nutrition Facts: 560 calories, 33 grams of fat, 15 grams of saturated fat, 1.5 grams of trans fat, 95 milligrams of cholesterol, 1180 milligrams of sodium, 32 grams of carbohydrates, 1 gram of fiber, 5 grams of sugar, and 34 grams of protein.

*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. Or not, Seattle.

REVIEW: Wendy’s Snickerdoodle Cookie Frosty Fusion

Wendy's Snickerdoodle Cookie Frosty Fusion sign

What better way to celebrate the chilly holidays than with a cold, refreshing treat? While that may be a controversial statement to those who think frozen desserts are only for when it’s hot outside, my love for ice cream knows no winter break. That’s why I was thrilled to hear that Wendy’s has released a new limited-edition Snickerdoodle Cookie Frosty, a flavor that balances the chilliness of the beloved dairy dessert with the cozy, toasty vibe of the classic cinnamon-sugar cookie.

Wendy's Snickerdoodle Cookie Frosty Fusion cup

Wendy's Snickerdoodle Cookie Frosty Fusion top

Anyone who is overwhelmed by choices might want to sit this one out, because on top of selecting either chocolate or vanilla for your ice cream base, this Frosty also requires you to pick from two additional options: the Swirl, which is more of a loose pile of soft serve and snickerdoodle sauce (try saying that five times fast!), and the Fusion, which doesn’t just throw on cookie pieces but blends them in, making the whole treat more dense and Blizzard-esque. I’m well-acquainted with this difference because I ordered a Fusion but the Wendy’s employee originally made me a Swirl; frankly, either one sounded delicious, so I was prepared to just happily accept my fate, but then he realized his mistake with a charmingly enormous Kevin-from-Home-Alone “OH NO” face and, a few moments later, my Frosty was looking a lot more compact and cookie-y.

Wendy's Snickerdoodle Cookie Frosty Fusion cookies

The first thing I noticed was that the cookie pieces (which ranged in size from what I’d describe as “bits” to what were undeniably “chunks”) were way crunchier than I had expected. I’d assumed that they either would have been from a cakier soft-baked cookie or would have just become soggy in the ice cream, so the crispness was a pleasant surprise.

I chose the vanilla base, and I liked how the plainer flavor emphasized the ice cream’s creaminess in contrast to those cookie pieces. The thick swirls of snickerdoodle sauce added extra, slightly caramel-tinged sweetness without being too over-the-top. While each on its own was fairly simple, the combination of these three elements felt—and tasted—downright decadent.

Wendy's Snickerdoodle Cookie Frosty Fusion syrup

Each ingredient had a distinct flavor, but they mixed well. I particularly appreciated the dynamic drama of the eating experience—some bites were creamy and others more cookie-filled, certain spoonfuls let the sauce shine, and then there were meltier mouthfuls… though I had expected to consume my Frosty ravenously, the smorgasbord of different tastes and textures encouraged me to slow down and be more mindful of each separation sensation, which was stimulating and satisfying.

Whether you’re a Swirler or a Fusionist, the Snickerdoodle Frosty is a luxurious treat. While you may not be able to use it to warm up after playing in the snow or leave it by the fireplace for Santa, its high-quality execution of an appealing premise still makes it a gift I’d love to find under my Christmas tree.

Purchased Price: $4.99

Size: Medium

Rating: 9 out of 10

Nutrition Facts: 580 calories, 16 grams of fat, 50 milligrams of cholesterol, 440 milligrams of sodium, 96 grams of carbohydrates, 76 grams of sugar, and 13 grams of protein.

REVIEW: Wendy’s Chicken Tendys

Wendy’s Chicken Tendys and Signature Sauce

Wendy’s new chicken tenders are boneless, but I’ve still got a bone to pick with America’s 9th favorite Redhead.

For years, on this great site, I’ve famously, tirelessly, breathlessly, and relentlessly asked – nay – begged Wendy’s to release a line of Frosties chock full of fix-ins called “Wendy’s Blendies.”

Imagine my disappointment when Wendy’s finally added some toppings to their Frosties and called them “Girlie Swirlies” or whatever instead of the more obvious name, “Blendies!”

Now, imagine my suspicion when I saw their newest menu item – Wendy’s Tendys.

“Tendys,” huh? Sounds a little bit like… Blendies!

If you’re thinking, “well, that’s just simplistic wordplay, and parallel thinking at best. You don’t own the abstract premise of rhyme schemes, and to be honest, ‘Tendys’ sounds better than ‘Blendies’ anyway. They didn’t actually blend anything into the Frosty,” then you’re correct, and very blunt. Take it easy. Jeez.

I’d still like an assist though – at least one of those secondary hockey assists where I get an assist for passing the puck to the guy who passed the puck to the guy who actually scored.

Tendys obviously aren’t Wendy’s first foray into chicken fingers/tenders/strips, but they’re a revamped recipe, and as a bonus, they’re being released with a new “Signature Sauce.”

Full transparency, I think Wendy’s chicken offerings have fallen off a cliff in the past decade, but I still enjoy their nuggets from time to time and snagged a free 5-piece to compare. I actually think Tendys are superior, but I might be on an island.

Wendy’s Chicken Tendys closeup

My three strips were salty, dry, and slightly overcooked, but crispy and just tender enough that I actually really liked them. As weird as it sounds, I like dry food, plus that’s what the sauce is there for! Anyway, the flavor and texture alone would have probably gotten a “meh” rating at best, but these things started to taste like something.

This could just be (chicken) selective memory, but as I bit down and racked my brain trying to figure out what they reminded me of, I came to the conclusion – McDonald’s Chicken Selects.

Why and how do I even remember those? They haven’t existed for well over a decade, yet I had a sense memory that I was eating them. Why would Wendy’s remind me of McDonald’s? I don’t know, but Tendys tasted more like Selects than McDonald’s new mediocre tenders.

Wendy’s Chicken Tendys being dipped into the Signature Sauce

As for the “Signature” sauce, it’s fine. It’s creamy with a little kick and tastes, I’ll be honest, like all new sauces just taste like some variation of Thousand Island to me. It’s like Russian Dressing and Ranch, maybe. If you told me this was just “S’awesome” sauce from a few years ago, I’d shrug and trudge on with stuffing my face. It gets a B on my patented Sauce Tier list.

So, with the Tendys and the Signature Sauce, there’s really nothing “new” here, but they’re both worth trying. I’d like to know if anyone else had a “Chicken Selects” nostalgia rush while eating them. Try ’em, but just know, three small strips are almost $6. They shoulda called these “Spendys.”

Actually, I’ve come around on the name. It’s fun to say, and definitely better than when my local greasy spoon, “Wendels,” added “Tendels” to the menu. Nasty.

Tendys are solid though!

Purchased Price: $5.39
Size: 3 pieces
Rating: 7 out of 10
Nutrition Facts: (Tendys only) 420 calories, 22 grams of fat, 3.5 grams of saturated fat, 80 milligrams of cholesterol, 1050 milligrams of sodium, 22 grams of carbohydrates, 1 gram of fiber, 0 grams of sugar, and 33 grams of protein.

REVIEW: Wendy’s x Wednesday Meal of Misfortune

My digestive system wondered how much misfortune Wendy’s x Wednesday Meal of Misfortune would cause it. Because the meal’s main highlights are the two spicy mystery flavor chicken nuggets dipping sauces included, my mouth, stomach, and digestive tract were concerned about how spicy they could be. Will they have to contend with digesting and processing Wendy’s Takis heat all over again? Well, there’s only one way to find out.

The Meal of Misfortune features:

  • Rest in 10-Piece Nuggets (just regular nuggets, but can be swapped for Spicy Nuggets)
  • Small Cursed & Crispy Fries (just regular fries)
  • Dips of Dread, which are four “inferno-inspired” mystery sauces. They include You Can’t Hyde, This Will Sting, Grave Mistake, and Nowhere to Woe. While there are four total sauces, two of them are added randomly with every meal.
  • A small Raven’s Blood Frosty, which is a
    Vanilla Frosty with a dark cherry swirl, served in a Wednesday-themed cup, and with a “Spoon of Gloom.” You can also get it with a Chocolate Frosty.

The limited time meal inspired by the hit Netflix show is supposed to come in Wednesday-themed packaging, but as you can see in the photo above, by pure mischance, mine didn’t, except for the paper bag my order came in.

Let’s start with the Mystery Sauces, which is an idea that every fast food chain should adopt. (Also, why weren’t these called “Mistery Sauces”?)

The first one I opened had an unexpected purple color that made me wonder if the demented person who runs Wendy’s social media accounts had melted Grimace to make the sauce. It had a Tabasco-ish flavor to it, and had a spiciness that I’d put at a 3-4 on my personal heat index.

The second one was a blood red, and spicy ketchup came to mind the moment I tasted it. It’s probably as hot as the purple one, which means my digestive system was misapprehensive. I enjoyed both a lot and I wouldn’t mind getting them randomly again.

If you’re not into spicy sauces, you can get the nuggets with ranch or whatever sauce on the menu that would make you dance like Wednesday Addams.

While the sauces weren’t as spicy as I was expecting, the Raven’s Blood Frosty extinguished whatever lingering heat quickly. While it’s supposed to be dark cherry-flavored, my taste buds thought differently because the sauce didn’t taste like anything cherry-flavored I’ve had before. I kept thinking it tasted more like mixed berries. I guess my taste buds were mistaken. Overall, it’s an okay Frosty Swirl, but it’s not as satisfying as other Frosty Swirl varieties, and I wouldn’t order it again.

I’m not sure Wendy’s x Wednesday Meal of Misfortune is a meal that’s worth misappropriating funds for. While my digestive system believes the Mystery Sauces are worth a try, it doesn’t feel the same about the meal’s Frosty.

Purchased Price: $10.19*
Rating: 8 out of 10 (Mystery Sauces), 6 out of 10 (Frosty)
Nutrition Facts: (Whole Meal) 1250 calories, 69 grams of fat, 16 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 120 milligrams of cholesterol, 2080 milligrams of sodium, 159 grams of carbohydrates, 5 grams of fiber, 87 grams of sugar, and 36 grams of protein.

*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.

REVIEW: Cheez-It Wendy’s Baconator Crackers

Wendy’s has made several forays into the grocery store in recent years, starting with its canned chili, then ground beef patties in select stores, and now it’s entering the cracker and chip aisle. After a recent Takis collaboration at Wendy’s restaurants, we can also find its popular Baconator lending its flavor to Cheez-Its. Does the taste of those bacon-topped square burgers translate to the orange squares of Cheez-It crackers?

Well, like many snacks that try to replicate meat flavors, these are going to be divisive. After opening the package, I didn’t find the smell to be particularly strong, but when I got a little closer and actually sniffed a cracker, I didn’t like the scent of these at all, nor did I think they smelled like something I would choose to put in my mouth. They look much like a standard Cheez-It but have more powdery speckles of seasoning. I expected them to lean into the bacon part of the flavor and have an artificial smoky taste like many things that try to mimic bacon, but I didn’t get much of that here. In fact, I don’t think they remind me of bacon at all. They have a strongly savory, umami aspect to them, and in addition to the regular cheesy flavor, I mostly picked up on onion and garlic. I think those were included to enhance the burger flavor, but a Baconator itself doesn’t actually have onions, so it seems like an odd choice to me that they’d come through this prominently.

I thought I was going to hate these after first smelling them, and there is no doubt they have a strong flavor that will put off many people. My husband is one of those people; he equated the smell to a urinal (I thought it was more BO) and instantly spit the single cracker he tried into the trash can. I can’t honestly say I would pay money to eat these again, but I also didn’t hate them as much as he did. They’re salty and kind of compel me to eat more, even when I’m not sure I actually want to. A look at the ingredients offers a possible explanation for this: these Baconator Cheez-Its contain MSG. I personally have no problem with MSG, and it’s probably the reason I’ve made it through as much of this box as I have.

The back of the box features a code to scan that gives you a coupon for $2 off a Baconator in the Wendy’s app, which could be some consolation if you hate these so much that you have to trash them all and immediately need to eat an actual bacon cheeseburger to cleanse your palate. Will I finish this box of Baconator Cheez-Its that taste nothing like a Baconator? Yes. Will I try to share them with anyone else? No, for fear that anyone I offer them to may no longer trust any food I give them again.

Purchased Price: $5.99
Size: 12.4 oz box
Purchased at: Jewel
Rating: 4 out of 10
Nutrition Facts: (26 crackers) 150 calories, 7 grams of total fat, 1.5 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 0 milligrams of cholesterol, 270 milligrams of sodium, 19 grams of carbohydrates, less than 1 gram of dietary fiber, 0 grams of total sugar, and 3 grams of protein.

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