Herr’s Kansas City Prime Steak Flavor Artificially Flavored Potato Chips

Hey, it’s the day after Easter! For some of you dear readers, you may have just finished the holiday tradition of Lent. Whether you abstained from meat on Fridays, gave it up altogether, or just cut out red meat, you can now continue your carnivorous ways.

I figure today seemed like the perfect day to review something I’ve been holding onto for a while. Back in December, I received a bag of chips from a generous friend of mine, who works at a place that apparently considers rib-flavored potato chips a perfectly normal selection for their break room vending machine. Having had some harrying encounters with meat-flavored non-meat items around that same time, I was justifiably nervous, but I reviewed them anyway, and found them to be quite enjoyable, and also free of any creepy meat flavor.

In the process of that review, I took a look at Herr’s website, and found some wacky flavors that I would’ve loved to have gotten my hands on. Unfortunately, I’d never seen Herr’s in my area. A little while back, I found myself outside my normal grocery/convenience store zone, and decided to check out the local Basha’s. To my surprise, they carried Herr’s! I was disappointed that they didn’t have Creamy Dill Pickle flavor, but they did have Kansas City Prime Steak, which I consider a mighty fine consolation prize.

I’ve always been curious about the name of these potato chips. I get the Prime part; in terms of USDA beef grading, Prime is the highest grade a piece of meat can get, and Prime steaks are usually only sold in hotels and restaurants. Prime means quality.  But why Kansas City? I didn’t care enough to research before, but now that I’m writing about these chips, I have to. For you. You’re welcome.

According to Wikipedia, the source of all knowledge and my primary care physician, Kansas City (the Missouri one, not the Kansas one, mind you) is famous for its steaks and, more specifically, the Kansas City Strip Steak. The strip steak is the cut of beef where T-bones and Porterhouses come from, just so you know. Deliciousness.

Kansas City became famous for its steaks due to the creation of the Kansas City Stockyards, which were built to give livestock owners better prices for their stock. At the Kansas City Live Stock Exchange, the headquarters of the Stockyards, livestock was sold at auction, which gave owners a chance at getting more money for their cattle. Previously, cattle owners west of Kansas City had to concede to whatever price the railroad was offering.

In the heyday year of 1923, 1,194,527 cattle (45% of the gross cattle sold) were purchased by local packing houses and markets, making Kansas City the place to get fresh, delicious steak. Built in 1871, the Stockyards flourished well into the 1940s. Unfortunately, the Great Flood of 1951 devastated the Stockyards, and they never really recovered, finally closing in 1991.

And now you know why Herr’s chose to call their steak-flavored potato chips Kansas City Prime. I just went all educational on yo’ ass. Take it. LIKE IT.

Back to the chips! From the mouth of Herr Herr: “Take a bite of this unique flavor sensation, Kansas City Prime Steak Potato Chips. Herr’s takes the finest potatoes and cooks them in pure vegetable oil to a golden crispy crunch. We then top them with the flavor of thick and juicy steak. It’s hard to find this bold flavor outside of your favorite steakhouse.”

“Unique flavor sensation” sounds like a phrase I would use to trick someone into eating something nasty. It’s the equivalent of setting your friend up on a blind date and telling him “she has a great personality”! I can read between the lines, here. I’m also pretty sure you won’t be finding this “bold flavor” inside OR outside of your favorite steakhouse.

I just noticed that the picture on the bag is actually a “serving suggestion”. So you’re supposed to serve these steak-flavored chips with…steak? How very meta. I have a feeling that if you served Kansas City Prime chips with a delicious Porterhouse straight from the grill, the chips are going to pale in comparison to the real thing. I enjoy potato chips, but I enjoy a juicy slab of meat a hell of a lot more.

All of that said, I actually have some high hopes for these chips. From my experience with their rib-flavored chips, I know that Herr’s has not yet figured out the dark magic that Frito-Lay uses to make their meat-flavored chips, so I’m not worried about that. I’m hoping for a chip flavored with a dry steak rub, which, in my opinion, would be awesome. Let’s see how Kansas City Prime these chips actually are.

The first impression I got from these chips was holy balls these chips are salty.  That’s a bold statement coming from a salt vampire like myself.  I would go so far as to call them excessively salty.  The second impression was holy balls these chips are garlicky.  It took a few mouthfuls before I could detect the more subtle flavors in the seasoning.  Namely, that it tastes like they tossed the chips in a combination of beef ramen seasoning and garlic powder.  There’s definitely a beefy taste, but it’s artificial, like you’re sucking on a cube of beef bullion.

This may not seem like a ringing endorsement for Kansas City Prime, but I found myself rather enjoying the chips.  This probably puts me in the minority; I’m pretty sure most people wouldn’t want to get intimate with a bag full of chip that taste like beefy garlic salt.  I don’t even know how many I could eat before I reached the limit of my admittedly high sodium tolerance, but I could see myself having a handful or two here and there.  I also like the texture of Herr’s chips; they’re thick and deliver a nice crunch, but not so thick that shards of potato pierce your gums like shrapnel every time you take a bite.

That said, as a reviewer, I have to be objective, and in the end, not only do Herr’s Kansas City Prime Steak Flavor Artificially Flavored Potato Chips taste nothing like steak, they’re also too salty and remind me of being poor and having 17 cent ramen for dinner.  On the plus side, there’s enough garlic in them to ensure that nobody will kiss you for the rest of the day, so if your boyfriend has severe halitosis and you’re too nice to break it to him, these chips will assist you nicely.

  • Score: 2.5 out of 5 totally interesting and not at all boring facts about the history of steak in Kansas City, Missouri
  • Price: $2.99
  • Size: 8 oz. bag
  • Purchased at: Basha’s #19
  • Nutritional Quirks: It’s the inclusion of salt and MSG that really makes the chips pop! Also contains butter (what?) and “extractives of tumeric”, which sounds like an ingredient you would need to hunt down if you were concocting a brew to put a curse on someone.

Fritos Tapatío-Flavored Corn Chips

I love Tapatío. It is my go-to hot sauce for just about everything. I put it on pizza, I put it in ramen, I adorn macaroni and cheese with it. I also just realized I have the diet of a poor college student. Just kidding, I realized that years ago.

Let’s not lose sight, here.Tapatío! Now in powdered chip form! When I saw these Fritos at my local convenience store I did the Happy Snack Dance. I was so overzealous that I failed to notice that there are also Tapatío-flavored Doritos and Ruffles, too. The cashier behind the counter kindly pointed this fact out to me, but I wasn’t about to go back and hunt for the other two, because that would make me look weird and would also piss off the person behind me. So you get Fritos, and that’s all you get. I don’t need all three anyway; just take whatever I say about the Tapatío powder and pretend it’s on a tortilla chip, then on a potato chip. Done! Easiest review ever.

Actually, I just read Snack Chat and my previous sentence is completely inaccurate. The Doritos have a Nacho Cheese base and the Ruffles “include a touch of lime juice”. I still feel I made the right choice, even if it was accidental, because the Fritos version appear to be purely Tapatío, so I’ll be able to judge more accurately if they have captured the true essence of the hot sauce. Plus, these are Frito Flavor Twists (although not labeled as such), and I’ve somehow managed to have never had this particular iteration of Fritos, so it will be a learning experience for all of us.

 

Fritos and Tapatío 'bout to get freaky!

If you’ve never had this hot sauce, I’ll let Snack Chat break it down: “For those that aren’t familiar, Tapatío hot sauce has been around since the early 1970s. It started as a part-time venture for founder Luis Saavedra, Sr. who made batches of hot sauce in his family home, selling the finished bottles to local Los Angeles markets. Despite its humble beginning, Tapatío hot sauce eventually caught on and is now a staple in homes and restaurants across the country.”

As Tapatío Fritos are part of the Sabritas line, everything’s in Spanish. There’s some English as well, like in the Nutritional Information section, but some things are only in Spanish, like on the back of the bag pictured above. According to Google Translate, “¡Ya llegó!” means “Has arrived!”. “Dile hola a” I can handle myself with my two years of basic Spanish; that means “Say hello to”. “Has arrived!” isn’t exactly the kind of statement I would tack an exclamation point onto, but hey, certain things get lost in translation.

 

Upon opening the bag, I was greeted with the smell of…enchiladas? Bizarre, but true. Like corn tortillas with a saucy, spicy smell. The twists definitely didn’t taste like enchiladas, though. Tapatío Fritos definitely bring the heat of the hot sauce; one of the things I like so much about it is that it’s spicy and has a good level of heat, but not so much heat that your taste buds burn out and you’re sweating and dying for a glass of milk. It’s the perfect level of heat for me. These chips had that same level of heat, with an afterburn that’s pleasant, not painful.

Another distinctive feature of Tapatío is the aftertaste. Perhaps it’s the combination of red peppers and garlic, or the always-vague “spices”, but it has a taste that differs from other hot sauces. Fritos got part of it; there’s a little garlic in there with the lingering heat. It seemed like there was a little something missing, though. Looking at the ingredients, “Tapatío seasoning” is listed, which captures all of the elements of Tapatío sauce except the red peppers, which is one of the key ingredients. This may be what keeps Tapatío Fritos from tasting 100% Tapatío.

All in all, I think Fritos Tapatío-Flavored Corn Chips succeeded in being tasty and came very close to capturing the essence of Tapatío. The heat level was just right and the touch of garlic was thoughtful. The only thing holding Fritos back from truly making a Tapatío chip was a certain flavor missing from the aftertaste, which may have been because they didn’t include red peppers in the equation. That said, I think Fritos did a good job in staying true to Tapatío’s flavor, instead of just creating another heat-based chip.

  • Score: 4 out of 5 ¡Ya llegós!
  • Price: 99 cents
  • Size: 2 7/8 oz. bag
  • Purchased at: Circle K #2821
  • Nutritional Quirks: No red peppers in the chips, even though it’s one of the main ingredients in Tapatío.

Quiznos Chicken Bacon Dipper

I think we all know by now that when it comes to bizarre fast food items, it’s on. It’s an arms race to see who can come up with the weirdest new product; who can generate the most Internet buzz? Pizza Hut has recently come out with a stuffed crust pizza that includes toppings AND cheese (obligatory “yo dawg I heard you like pizza in your pizza so I stuffed your pizza with pizza” joke), but, not to be one-upped, Quiznos has come out with the Chicken Bacon Dipper.

The sandwich itself seems pretty loaded, but largely innocent: all-white-meat chicken, smoky bacon, mild chipotle mayo and chipotle jack bread. Sounds good, right? Chipotle, fast food’s favorite flavor-of-the-month, comes into play twice, and you’ve got bacon, which the Internet seems to get a boner about whether it’s in a sandwich or used to construct a bacon house slathered in Baconnaise.

But wait, this isn’t just any sandwich: it’s a Dipper! What does this mean? Well, it’s not unheard of to dip a sandwich, of course; you can find a French Dip on almost any diner’s lunch menu. But this ain’t no jus, son; this is cheese dip! More specifically, Quiznos’ “signature” cheese sauce, which contains tomatoes, diced green chiles and “traditional Mexican spices”.

I guess this is considered weird. I’ve seen news articles and blogs on it calling it a “horror”, saying Quiznos is “trippin’”. I don’t see it as that bizarre. You can’t tell me that some stoner college student hasn’t dipped a ham sandwich into a jar of Tostitos Salsa con Queso at 3am. It’s possible I have done this, completely sober. I swear I’ve dipped a sandwich into some ranch dressing at some point. But that’s just me, and I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t fall into the “normal” category when it comes to food habits.

I’ll tell you what is weird, though: the commercials. Obviously intended to be bizarre, but I’m pretty horrified by the dude who sticks his beard into the cheese sauce and then starts rubbing his sandwich on it, and I’m terrified I’m going to wake up one day and find the woman in “The Cement Mixer” staring into my bedroom window. I never thought I’d say this, but I’d rather have The King stalking me.

So is this sandwich truly that strange? Let’s find out. I have to say, I’m walking into this with more anticipation that trepidation. Sandwich + cheese sauce? Genius, I say.

There’s a lot to say about this sandwich, so I’ll try to break it all down. The bread was soft, but it was hard to discern if there was any chipotle or jack in it. The chicken was surprisingly juicy, and as you can see, there was some sort of herbal seasoning on it that was really tasty. I think I detected some rosemary, and there was some more stuff going on that I couldn’t specify, but overall it really added some great flavor to the chicken and I’m surprised it wasn’t included in the sandwich’s description.

Unfortunately, the contents of the sandwich were rather anemic. I could have used a lot more chicken, as well as more bacon, which was smoky and added some good flavor but suffered from the all-pervasive Limp Fast Food Bacon Syndrome. There was also a serious lack of chipotle flavor. Having chipotle in both the mayo and the bread, you would think it would be prominent, but all I could taste was a little bit of heat and that’s it. Chipotle has a distinct smoky heat, and that just didn’t come through, which was disappointing.

On to the dip! Oh, the dip. So much potential, and so much failure. Where to begin? Well, first of all, the cheese sauce was way too thick. So thick, in fact, that when I dipped the sandwich into it, it sucked out half the contents of the sandwich, resulting in my having to go on a fishing expedition to get my chicken back into the sandwich after each dip, resulting in serious Cheesy Fingers.

While the addition of diced chiles and “traditional Mexican spices” (whatever that means) added just the right amount of heat, the cheese itself was…how do I put this nicely…the most artificially-flavored cheese I’ve probably ever eaten. Now, hey, I likes me some artificial cheese sauce. I eat cheese out of a can. I won’t apologize. But even Easy Cheese tastes less artificial than Quiznos’ signature cheese dip. After I’d finished it, I felt like I’d just ingested about 500 different chemicals. I couldn’t find any nutritional information about the Chicken Bacon Dipper on their website, but that’s probably for the best, because I’m sure the ingredient list for the cheese dip reads like a Dickens novel.

Sadly, I actually kind of liked the cheese sauce. Like I said, the seasoning gave it a nice bit of heat, and that and the cheesiness, however fake, worked well with the contents of the sandwich. I had to take a step back, however. I had to remove my own sick palate from the situation and be objective. How would a “normal” person feel about this dip? The answer: they would most likely be repulsed. It really does taste artificial and just…wrong. It’s just wrong, this dip. I hate to promote one of my favorite foods twice in one post, but really, you would be so much better off dunking this sandwich into some Tostitos Salsa con Queso. How hard is it to make a cheese dip that’s the right consistency and doesn’t taste like you’re eating at a high school cafeteria?

I wanted so badly to love this sandwich, but in the end, it just didn’t live up to my expectations at all. The chicken was delicious but there wasn’t enough of it. The bacon was also lacking. There was no real chipotle flavor to be found. The sandwich worked well with the dip, which added some heat and some cheesy flavor, but it tasted so artificial that most people would probably be put off by it. My body felt wrong after eating the dip (which, by the way, I did finish, and found the cheese-to-sandwich ratio to be just about perfect), and when your body feels just wrong after eating something, that probably means you shouldn’t have eaten it.

Chicken Bacon Dipper, I wanted to like you so badly, but in the end, you let me down. I hope this doesn’t discourage Quiznos or other fast food places, though; in the future, I want to see all sandwiches come with some form of dip. That’s right, I said it. Gravy, cheese, ranch, jus, I don’t care. I just want to dip it. Dip it good.

  • Score: 2 out of 5 Cheesy Finger fishing expeditions
  • Price: $2.99 (with coupon; regular price $5.19)
  • Size: 1 sandwich
  • Purchased at: Quiznos #7845
  • Nutritional Quirks: No nutritional information available, but that’s probably for the best.  Quiznos signature cheese dip is probably just one big quirk.

Food News: McKFC Double Deuce Deluxe

Update: This was obviously an April Fool’s joke, but if you actually printed out the coupon and tried to use it, I’d love to hear from you! Also, serious thanks to my friend Randy, who helped me brainstorm and also doctored up the fake coupon for me. He obviously did a fantastic job. As thanks, I’ll bump the website to a movie he made called Burning Annie!

McDonald’s and KFC announced today that they’ll be joining forces to create a new sandwich, which they’re calling McKFC’s Double Deuce Deluxe. According to the press release, “The sandwich itself is a burger-wrapped bacon-breaded Original Recipe slider with Olive Satsuma Pickle Relish and Queso Oaxaca Melt.”

Sounds like quite a mouthful, if you ask me. As Burger King and McDonald’s continue to war over creating new and innovative burgers, I see this as a response to Burger King’s BK Stuffed Steakhouse Burger. If you think stuffing a burger with chicken is ridiculous, go do a Google search for turducken. Stranger things have happened.

I’m interested to see how the bacon breading works out. The pickle relish is also an interesting choice that might overwhelm the palate, but I love that they’re using Oaxaca, which is a Mexican cheese that I personally have always enjoyed.

McKFC, as I guess they’d like to be called, at least for this product, has released limited nutritional information, but from what I’ve read, each slider contains 1,853 calories, 32 grams of fat, 14 grams of saturated fat, and 1,420 milligrams of sodium. Definitely not a diet food, considering these are just sliders. I wouldn’t be surprised if the Internet goes bonkers about these little fatty salt bombs, considering how much they had to say about KFC’s Double Down.

The McKFC Double Deuce Deluxe sliders come in packs of 3, 9, or the gut-busting 20-piece “Party Pack”. I couldn’t find any set pricing, but below is a coupon for $1 off any size purchase that you can print out and take to any McDonald’s OR KFC. This shit be loco. Oaxacaloco!