Arby’s Angus Three Cheese & Bacon

It’s easy to poke fun at Arby’s. It’s the red-headed stepchild of the fast food world. It’s so easy, in fact, that when I told a friend I was going to Arby’s, he pulled out a quote from The Simpsons.  The episode it was from is basically a parody of Lord of the Flies. If you don’t immediately understand the context because you never read Lord of the Flies, you should probably stop reading this review and go back to high school.

It’s night time and the kids sit around the fireplace.

TERRI
I’m so hungry I could eat at Arby’s!

LISA
Oh my gosh!

NELSON
That IS hungry.

LISA
REALLY hungry…

So The Simpsons stole my joke. In 1998. That’s harsh.

But wait! This is 2011, 13 years later, and Arby’s has a new sandwich that could change everything. The Angus bandwagon is getting pretty crowded these days, and Arby’s decided to jump on. It’s the Angus Three Cheese & Bacon, and according to Arby’s, it’s “Angus beef the way it should be -Premium, lean, freshly sliced and piled high to perfection with 3 cheeses on an authentic Italian roll.”

Well, that sounds okay. But it looks like there’s a lot more going on in the promo picture on their website. The Atlanta Journal Constitution, an organization that I know nothing about, seems to have more details: “The black Angus, top round beef is thinly sliced and topped with Swiss and Cheddar cheeses, a Parmesan peppercorn ranch sauce and pepper bacon.”

Arby’s should have that as the description on their website, because that is way more enticing than their official breakdown of the sandwich. Arby’s actually has me intrigued now, and that’s saying something.

Let’s get to the important part first: I have to say, the meat on the Angus Three Cheese & Bacon is a step (or three) above Arbys’ normal “shaved”…roast beef, if you could call it that. Is it Angus quality? Weeell, I don’t know if I would go that far, but I’d put it on par in quality, texture and taste to the meat in a french dip at a chain diner. Unfortunately, there was no jus to hide the fact that the meat was a little on the dry side.

Before we move on, I have to mention a caveat: my sandwich had a case of Jekyll and Hyde like I’d never experienced before. It came pre-cut in half, and one side was well-constructed, while the other was disheveled. It’s like they came from two different sandwiches. I’ll give a quick rundown of Mr. Angus Hyde, since I feel it’s more fair to judge the sandwich based on Dr. Angus Jekyll. The Hydewich’s meat was more dry and it was lacking in bacon, cheese and sauce. So it was basically some meat in between two pieces of bread.

Fortunately, I also got the Jekyll side, for which I have no sandwich-related nickname. This side was more moist because it had more sauce and cheese, but you could still tell the meat was a bit dry. This side had a good amount of bacon, and the bacon was surprisingly crunchy and flavorful. It was thickly cut, and you could taste that it was peppered. I would have never guessed that Arby’s, of all fast food joints, would avoid Limp Fast Food Bacon Syndrome, but they did! I could have taken the bacon straight off the sandwich, eaten it, and been satisfied with the quality.

The cheese was creamy and added an extra textural dimension to the sandwich, but I really couldn’t identify the three separate cheeses. I appreciated their presence, but they didn’t really pop. Likewise, the sauce added welcome creaminess, but I couldn’t have guessed that it was a Parmesan peppercorn ranch sauce. In fact, even when sampled separately, it didn’t have much flavor at all; the best I could say for it is that it had a mild ranch taste. For a sauce with such a descriptive (and tasty-sounding) moniker, it really failed to deliver.

I’ve had a fair amount of Arby’s sandwiches over the years. Too many, you might say. Compared to their regular shaved roast beef sandwiches, the Angus Three Cheese & Bacon is a step above the rest. That doesn’t mean it’s a fantastic sandwich, however. I wouldn’t call the meat Angus quality, and it was a little dry, but it was okay for fast food roast beef. The bacon was obviously the star; peppered, thick and crunchy, it was some of the best fast food bacon I’ve had in a long time. The cheese was creamy, as was the sauce, but both disappointed in the flavor department, particularly the sauce.

What can I say? It’s pretty solid for a fast food sandwich, but it’s not something for which you should run out of the house with no shoes on. But hey, if you find yourself trapped inside an Arby’s, which has happened to me at least a half dozen times (why do all the doors look just like the windows? Help meeeeee), give it a shot.

  • Score: 3 out of 5 Jekyll & Hydewiches
  • Price: $4.99
  • Size: 1 sandwich
  • Purchased at: Arby’s #7117
  • Nutritional Quirks: Parmesan Peppercorn Ranch Sauce appears to contain all the ingredients for Parmesan peppercorn ranch sauce, yet this is not reflected in the flavor. Also, no LFFBS!

Chester’s Fries Chili Cheese Flavored Corn & Potato Snacks

Today, a seemingly normal snack food that is shrouded in mystery. Chester’s Fries Chili Cheese Flavored Corn & Potato Snacks.

First, the procurement of said snack. I have never heard of these before in my life. Apparently, these have been showing up in the vending machine at my husband’s work off and on for a while now. A strange choice of offerings, given that most work vending machines I’ve seen (and I’ve seen my fair share) usually go with more traditional offerings, like original Lay’s or Rold Gold pretzels. If you’re lucky, you might score some Miss Vickie’s. But not this vending machine. This machine had gone rogue.

Somehow, these Chili Cheese Fries managed to slip in there. Or, more precisely, managed to slip out. The bag says 75 cents, but my husband scored them for free. During an innocent trip to the break room, he spotted them sitting on the counter. Alone, possibly even lonely; I can’t truthfully speak for the state of mind of the snack itself. He looked around, searching for an owner; the room was empty, fluorescent lights buzzing quietly, Formica tables bereft of employees shoveling bland Lean Cuisines into their mouths. No one was there to claim this odd bag of snacks. No one was coming back for them. Chester was officially an orphan.

So, my husband took them under his wing. No snack left behind. And now, like a de facto foster mother who is just in it for the paycheck, I will pass judgment on them.

There’s one more small mystery to this case. Much like whoever abandoned this bag of Chester’s Fries Chili Cheese, Frito-Lay seems to have abandoned them, as well. I couldn’t find them anywhere on F-L’s website, which extensively catalogs each flavor of each brand they carry. And trust me, that is an extensive list. They have Chester’s Flamin’ Hot Fries, but no Chili Cheese. I’m starting to wonder if this vending machine comes from the same magical source as the one that dispenses these.

The bag is pretty straightforward. There’s Chester, keepin’ it cool like he does, lounging around, eating his fries. There’s a picture of the fries, which the bag also informs me have been enlarged to show texture. To be honest, they do look like real seasoned fries. In the picture, that is.

There’s also a cartoon bowl of chili with cheese on top, which actually looks more like a bowl of mud with some yellow seagulls stuck in it. And then there’s the “guaranteed fresh by” date. Jan. 25. My husband only gave these to me a couple of weeks ago. Perhaps this explains the abandonment of the Fries. It also shows that perhaps this is not the most popular snack in the vending machine. I’m just hoping it’s Jan. 25 of this year.

Lucky for you readers, I’m a rogue. I don’t play by the rules. You can take my badge and my gun, but I’ll still conduct my own investigation. Expiration dates are for sissies.

The back of the bag describes these fries as “crispy, crunchy french fry-shaped snacks with a rich, hearty chili & cheese flavor. Satisfy your french fry fix with Chester’s Fries Chili Cheese Flavored Corn & Potato Snacks!” I appreciate a snack that actually uses the ridiculously long full name of their product anywhere other than on the front of the bag. It also says I can learn more at www.fritolay.com. This is obviously a lie. I always obey what the back of snack bags tell me to do, so I feel a little betrayed. Of course, if these expired Jan. 25, 2005, perhaps they were on Frito-Lay’s website at that time. We’ll never know.

Chester’s Chili Cheese Fries do not taste like french fries. They will not satisfy your french fry fix. They are, however, pretty good. The fries seem to be designed to each be a uniform 2.5 inches long, but given the various transports my bag endured, I’m not surprised some of them were broken. As you can see, they aren’t exactly the same color as the fries on the bag. The texture and density of them are pretty similar to Planters Cheez Balls, which no longer exist, which not only breaks my heart on a daily basis but also makes the comparison relatively useless. Let’s just say they’re less dense than Cheetos, but a little more dense than Cheetos Puffs.

I was surprised by the flavor. Considering they are, or perhaps were, part of the Frito-Lay family, I expected them to have the exact same flavoring as Chili Cheese Fritos. Instead, I got a much more subtle flavor. The cheese tasted a lot like Cheetos cheese but not as strong, and the chili seasoning had the flavors of other chili-flavored snacks, but again, it’s more subtle, which actually allows the cheese a little more room to shine.

I don’t know if you’ll ever be able to find Chester’s Fries Chili Cheese Flavored Corn & Potato Snacks. Maybe they’re everywhere and I’m just unobservant or live in the wrong area. Either way, Frito-Lay seems to deny their existence. I may never see them again, but I have to say, I enjoyed the bag I had. In a world of snacks that punch you in the mouth with aggressive flavoring, these fries had a subtle but pleasant flavor, which also allowed the flavor of the corn (and potato I guess, I couldn’t really taste much of that) and the tasty texture to come through. Chili and cheese have obviously been done before, but it’s the Cheez Ball-esque composition that I really enjoyed.

And for the record, they weren’t stale at all. Expiration dates are bullshit. Unless you’re dealing with milk. Don’t fuck with milk.

  • Score: 3.5 out of 5 Internet petitions to bring back Planters Cheez Balls
  • Price: Free, but someone else allegedly paid 75 cents
  • Size: 1 1/2 oz. bag
  • Purchased at: Lovingly rescued at an undisclosed break room location
  • Nutritional Quirks: Expired by 3 months (or 10 years, depending), but still tasting fresh!

Food News: Taco Bell Crunchwrap Supreme for 88 Cents

After all the controversy over the amount of meat in Taco Bell’s seasoned ground beef, Taco Bell has been on a mission to let everyone know that it’s signature meat is 88% beef and the rest is delicious crack seasonings and…other stuff that make the beef so addictive tasty.

As part of this campaign, Taco Bell is offering its Crunchwrap Supreme, which contains said seasoned ground beef, for just 88 cents.  The Crunchwrap Supreme usually goes for $2.39 (may vary by location), so this is a great deal.  You’d be hard pressed to find another fast food offering as hearty for such a low price.  The 88 cents, of course, is in honor of the 88% beef contained within.

Of course, this is a limited time offer – this deal will only last until March 5th.  I’ve never actually had their Crunchwrap Supreme, but this seems like the perfect time to try it out.