Tag Archives: 4.5 burgers

Junk Food

Count Chocula Treats

3 Comments

I can’t find anything on the Internet that indicates Count Chocula Treats existed before this year, so I’m going to declare them a new Halloween product for 2012. Go ahead, try and refute me. Just don’t be surprised when you see someone wearing a hockey mask standing outside your window. That heavy breathing sound when you pick up the phone? Ignore it, I’m sure it’s nothing.

Count Chocula and his friends Boo Berry and Frankenberry have been around for over 30 years, making October mornings just a little more awesome for kids. Due to some kind of gross oversight, I was never one of those kids.

It doesn’t make sense. My mom loves Halloween. I love Halloween. I grew up in a time where parents weren’t worried about vaccines causing autism or sugary breakfast cereals turning their kids into obese blobs. I ate Lucky Charms and Frosted Flakes with the best of them. So how come I never ate any of the General Mills monster cereals? It is a perplexing mystery.

No use crying over unspilled sugary milk, however. Last year, I tried Boo Berry cereal for the first time. Now I’m going to sink my teeth into Count Chocula, this time in Treat form.

I usually give big points to any Halloween packaging that’s overstuffed with ghosts, goblins, ghouls, and whatever else you can fit onto a box or wrapper. Basically, I want everything to look like a Michael’s craft store threw up all over it.

That said, I like the cohesive minimalism Of Count Chocula’s Treat box. The color palate sticks to differing shades of brown, which keeps things looking clean and on-target with the product. Count Chocula keeps his appropriate font, and the other text also has a sufficiently spooky font.

The Treats are described as “Chocolatey Cereal Bar with Spooky-Fun Marshmallows”. Boo Berry also used the phrase “Spooky-Fun Marshmallows”, which I kind of like, but I also think General Mills isn’t giving kids enough credit. Just calling them “spooky marshmallows” would up the Halloween factor, and I can guarantee no child is going to be frightened by practically-formless blobs of sugar. By just calling them spooky, the fun is implied.

Moving on to Count Chocula himself. He has gone through several redesigns over the years, but his general undead spirit remains intact. I never really took a good look at him before now, but upon close inspection, he’s quite the interesting form of vampire.

First we have the cape with the giant collar, which is required for any self-respecting bloodsucker (or chocolatesucker, in this case). Then there’s his fabulous double-pointed hairstyle, which very few people could pull off, but Count Chocula does it with finesse and also with a wicked widow’s peak that would make any self-respecting vampire jealous.

The Choc-Man starts getting weird when we begin examining facial features. I respect his pointy ears that seem to extend almost beyond the top of his skull, But what is with that schnoz, man? I’ll skip right past the racist Jewish joke and ponder the idea that the Count is somehow related to Pinocchio and he just told a really big lie. I hope it’s not about the marshmallows being spooky-fun, or that his Treats are “naturally” flavored. He’s already got a loophole in describing the bars as “chocolatey”, which implies some degree of chocolateness but makes no claims in regards to actual chocolatude.

Maybe his big nose helps him to sniff out chocolate. Like Toucan Sam’s, it always knows.

I never noticed this before I started a triple-digit-wordcount-breakdown of every damn aspect of Count Chocula like he was auditioning for America’s Next Top Monster, but what is happening with his fangs, if you could even call them that? Dude, are you a vampire or some sort of undead human/nutria hybrid? It’s a good thing he’s a chocolate vampire and not a blood-sucking vampire, else he’d just be ineffectively trying to gnaw on people’s necks until they just got uncomfortable and squirmed away. Also, General Mills apparently does not provide dental insurance, because the poor Count has lost all his teeth except for two. That is sad.

Now that I’ve spent an unreasonable amount of time completely sperging out on Count Chocula, let me just completely contradict everything I’ve said and say that Count Chocula is awesome. It’s our flaws that make us beautiful, right? He may a buck-toothed big-nosed chocolate vampire, but he’s our buck-toothed, big-nosed chocolate vampire, dammit.

If you ask me, the one flaw in this packaging is that there’s too much emphasis on the cereal bar. You’ve already hooked us with Count Chocula and the promise of spooky-fun; I really don’t care what the dang thing looks like. The fang-ished guy doesn’t even make an appearance on the bar wrappers themselves. Give the immortal man his deserved time to shine (note: shine should not come from the sun).

Count Chocula Treats, much like the Count himself, aren’t exactly pretty, but sure do have a lot going on. Just on the surface, I could see chocolate chips, chocolate drizzle, Count Chocula cereal, and even a peek of marshmallows. There also seemed to be a sheen of chocolate glaze, and oh, by the way, the entire foundation of the bar is made out of chocolate.

In other words, this ain’t no Nutri-Grain breakfast bar. This is a chocolate mecca in cereal bar form. It’s seriously no wonder the Count lost all but two of his teeth.

But was it worth it? My mouth says yes. Biting into a Count Chocula Treat creates an instant chocoparty in your mouth. The Chocula cereal adds one of the many chocolate dimensions and a bit of crunch. The marshmallows are more formless and less spooky-fun; I think there’s a marshmallow ghost assistant that adds that chewiness and flavor that makes this a Treat (think Rice Krispies) and not just a “bar”.

My biggest complaint about these Treats is that the spooky-fun marshmallows are mostly hidden inside the bar and have no discernible form. At first, I thought this was a design flaw in the bar, but the more I looked on the Internet, the more I became convinced that Count Chocula cereal’s marshmallows never actually had a form. Just amorphous blobs. Hey, blobs have their own place in the Halloween echelon, but I’d like to see some effort to make them look like…something. Fangs, maybe?

The chocolate chips, drizzle topping, glaze and chocolate foundation all add to the overall chocolatey taste, but it’s the taste and texture of the Count Chocula cereal and the marshmallow goo that really makes Count Chocula Treats come together, as it were.  If you’re not a fan of chocolate or marshmallow treats, you’re obviously going to hate this. If you love Count Chocula cereal and have always wished it could be made into an even less healthy and more chocolatey S’mores-like food, then these bars will make your Halloween just that much more happy.

Completely unrelated note: Count Chocula Treats were listed on my receipt as “COUCHO”. Little-known fact, Count Chocula is a long-lost Marx brother!

Count Chocula Treats

  • Score: 4.5 out of 5 pretty women being mildly irritated as Count Chocula tries to gnaw their necks
  • Price: $2.66
  • Size: Box of 6 0.85 oz. bars
  • Purchased at: Target
  • Nutritional Quirks: Each bar contains a surprisingly low 100 calories, but they are also rather small at only 0.85 oz. per bar. But who cares about calories; it’s Halloween!

Dinosaur Dracula and The Surfing Pizza also bit into some Count Chocula Treats.

Junk Food

Cadbury Screme Egg

Leave a comment

Now this is Halloween. I hope those four simple words got that song from The Nightmare Before Christmas stuck in your head, because I have had it stuck in mine for three days now. I could think of worse Halloween songs. See: The Worst Witch.

Now you really hate me. We’re off to a great start.

The packaging of Cadbury Screme Eggs is simplistic but effective: black background, green oozy blob, and purple accents. Oh, sure, black and orange get all the attention around this time of year, but I think green and purple are the backup players that really add to the Halloween spirit.

And, of course, there’s the name. Could a candy be more primed for a Halloween makeover? Just pop an S on “creme” and you are set.

Cadbury wasn’t content to just make a slight name change and re-decorate some foil, however. More on that in just a second.

Screme Eggs are new in the US this year, but they’ve existed in the UK for…I’m not sure how long, but at least a year. I know this for a fact, because a friend of mine (the same one that sacrificed herself to ingest a pizza stuffed with hot dogs just for the sake of JFB) sent me a Halloween care package last year from the UK that included these eggs. Unfortunately, due to accursed international shipping, the package didn’t arrive until after Halloween was over.

I should have told November to screw off and reviewed the awesome sampling of products anyways, but for some reason I took a hard line on Halloween. I ate the goodies, but I really should have reviewed them. I have regrets, but also bragging rights that I ate Cadbury Screme Eggs before most people in the US had this opportunity. The regret still lingers, however.

Looks pretty innocuous, right? Just another already-existing product with some Halloween packaging. Yawn.

JFB confession time: I hate eggs. I have hated eggs for as long as I can remember. I don’t want to hate eggs; it makes ordering breakfast an unjust challenge. I have often seen breakfast products and thought, “That sounds delicious…too bad it’s an omelet.”

I wish I could say that I’m up for anything when it comes to reviewing foods, but I just can’t bring myself to eat things with eggs in them. I’d consider it a grand character flaw, but I’m sure most people out there have at least one food that they just can’t stand. Eggs are my kryptonite.

This all leads up to an anecdote: when I was a child, I was absolutely convinced that Cadbury Creme Eggs had actual egg inside. Try as she might, my mom could not convince me that these eggs were nothing more than a sugary Easter treat that just happened to look like an egg, inside and out. It took years before I was willing to try one. Kids are stupid.

However, perhaps if I’d had Cadbury Screme Eggs in my life as a child, I would have been much more willing to try them.

AAAHHHHHH! That’s not the typical white-and-yellow filling of a Cadbury Egg! The yolk has been replaced with green ooze! You’ve now completely won my heart, Cadbury Screme Eggs. You’re my Ectoplasm hero.

And yes, as a youth I probably would have been more willing to try an egg with green ooze inside than one that somewhat simulated actual egg filling. Kids.

Not one to rest on their slimy laurels, Cadbury also has a very Halloweenie website, complete with haunted house, bats, and a Halloween countdown clock on the home page. It also has suggestions for Halloween activities like “eyeball race” (hells yeah!) and “pin the wart on the witch”, which I think should replace pin the tail on the donkey year-round.

There’s also a Halloween trivia quiz, with questions like, “Why were Jack o’Lanterns created?” and multiple choice options like “People were lonely and found the face comforting.” It is rather adorable. Let’s face it, Cadbury Screme Eggs are for kids, and adults like me who turn into kids when October 1st rolls around. I also like the idea of lonely people carving into squash because they need a friend. “Oh Jack, you’re such a good listener. No hard feelings about scooping your guts out, right?”

As for the taste, if you’ve eaten a Cadbury Creme Egg, you’ve tasted a Cadbury Screme Egg. Sugar goo inside a milk chocolate shell. Oh, sure, they could have changed the flavoring of the green goo to green apple or something, but you know what? I love Cadbury Screme Eggs just the way they are. Good packaging, fun website, and green ooze inside.

My only bone to pick would be that the egg itself doesn’t have a cool skull on it, but after careful consideration, I think leaving the egg as-is works just as well. It’s innocence betrays nothing of the fun ghost goo that lies inside. It’s like a wall at a haunted house that suddenly drops away to reveal a bloody psychopath who wants to cut you in half with a chainsaw. Halloween is a time of surprises.

As an added bonus, I’m now halfway to making green eggs and ham, and I don’t even have to eat real eggs!

Cadbury Screme Egg

  • Score: 4.5 out of 5 disembodied heads covered in slime
  • Price: $0.79
  • Size: 1.2 oz. egg
  • Purchased at: Target
  • Nutritional Quirks: These things are almost literally pure sugar. Parents BEWARE
Fast Food

Domino’s Stuffed Cheesy Bread Spinach & Feta and Bacon & Jalapeno

10 Comments

If you’ve watched any television at all over the past few years, you’re probably aware that Domino’s Pizza has been completely revamping their pizza and desperately wants you to know about it. They’ve relished in showing (allegedly) real people complaining about how much their pizza sucks, which is designed to be a ballsy move from their marketing department.

“But wait!” They’ve responded, looking earnest like a puppy that just destroyed all your throw pillows. “After listening to you, we’ve realized our pizza blows. We changed everything from the dough to the sauce to the toppings, determined to get you to stop ordering from Pizza Hut or one of those mom ‘n’ pop joints down the street. Seriously, we don’t suck now!”

Cue the previously (supposed) real people trying the new and improved Domino’s Pizza. “Well, shit! This doesn’t taste like cardboard anymore! SOLD!”

Okay, so I may be embellishing a little. And, to be honest, I have tried their new pizza, and it does taste better than their old pizza. In fact, I’d put Domino’s at the top of the big pizza delivery players now. (But I still order from the mom ‘n’ pop joint down the street.)

Not to rest on the laurels they awarded themselves, Domino’s decided to revamp their cheesy bread. Sticking with the self-effacing formula that brought their new pizza a fair amount of publicity, the commercial for their new cheesy bread shows them ordering cheesy bread from other pizza places, admitting that “we were one of the worst offenders” and making comments like, “the undercheesing is rampant”.

Oh, dear gods! THE UNDERCHEESING! I am so adding that to my vernacular. Watch out, guy at the Olive Garden who carries around the Parmesan grater. I will not be undercheesed.

Not satisfied with just improving the quality or quantity of the cheese on their cheesy bread, Domino’s went ahead and decided to stuff the fuck out of some unsuspecting breadsticks. Having lived in a world where it’s normal to have cheese inside the crust of your pizza, you may be unimpressed. However, Domino’s claims that their new Stuffed Cheesy bread has as much cheese in it as a medium pizza.

That is a lot of cheese. So much cheese, in fact, that the commercial states that they would like people to jump rope with their cheese.

I will not be doing that, but feel free to picture that outrageous and somewhat disturbing concept.

Domino’s Stuffed Cheesy Bread comes in three varieties: Cheese, Bacon & Jalapeno and Spinach & Feta. I chose the latter two, figuring that after eating the cheese volume of two medium pizzas, I’d have a pretty good idea of what was going on without adding a third medium pizza’s worth of cheese.

While the Cheesy Breads come with different fillings, the fundamentals of Stuffed Cheesy Bread remain the same, so I’ll get to that before I discuss the different goodies inside.

The cheese inside was, as promised, very plentiful, gooey and stretchy. Each piece of Cheesy Bread delivered a bounty of cheesy goodness. It was, indeed, stuffed. I didn’t get all scientific and weigh the cheese on a medium pizza versus the cheese in the Cheesy Bread, but my mouth would call it a fair comparison.

Through some sort of magic, they managed cram an ample amount of both the cheese and the other ingredients into each stick, and the filling went all the way to the edge on the sticks.

Well, almost all the sticks. Some of the end pieces had hardly any filling in them at all.

Lucky for Domino’s, even though the end pieces lacked stuffing, the bread they used was soft and chewy without being tough, and the extra cheese baked in on top added crunch and even more cheesy flavor, so they weren’t a total loss. I’ve always required that my breadsticks come with dip, but with the Stuffed Cheesy Bread, there was so much packed into the middle sticks that the only time I felt the desire for a dip was with the end pieces.

With all that stuffing and the cheese that had been baked on top, I found it difficult to actually separate the bread into stick form. I was sometimes left with a cheesy, bready mess. Perhaps that’s why Domino’s went with Stuffed Cheesy Bread and not Stuffed Cheesy Breadsticks. This is not a food I would recommend on a first date. Then again, if you’re eating at Domino’s on a first date, there may be some more fundamental problems to worry about. If your date starts jump roping with the cheese, it may be time to go “powder your nose” and escape out the bathroom window.

Now then, on to the individual fillings.

Spinach & Feta

I loves me some spinach and feta, and Domino’s actually delivered on this one. There was a healthy amount of both spinach and feta. The spinach added a nice crunch and texture, and the feta crumbles were noticeable in each bite, adding that feta twang and upping the cheese factor even more.

Bacon & Jalapeno

The bacon and jalapeno fillings were less successful. I enjoyed the jalapenos, which added a nice heat and crunch, but the bacon was…off. It was torn into small pieces that were spread fairly evenly throughout the Cheesy Bread, but it was limp and seemed undercooked. There was little crunch or smoky taste. It almost tasted more like ham than bacon. I take my bacon pretty seriously, and this was some disappointing bacon.

I still like my mom ‘n’ pop pizza, but I would forgo them every once in a while to order Domino’s Stuffed Cheesy Bread again. The Bacon & Jalapeno fell short, but the Spinach & Feta hit just the right flavor combo, and I bet the plain Cheese variety could even hold its own. I was disappointed that some of the end pieces lacked stuffing, but the rest was chock full of cheesy filling, the bread was just the right consistency, the cheese baked on top was crunchy, and the messiness was worth sacrificing a few napkins. Domino’s Stuffed Cheesy Bread is worth ordering on its own, even if you don’t get a pizza, and that’s something I don’t think I could say about any other pizza joint’s breadsticks.

Domino’s Stuffed Cheesy Bread Spinach & Feta and Bacon & Jalapeno

  • Score (Spinach & Feta): 4.5 out of 5 Olive Garden employees about to get UNDERCHEESED
  • Score (Bacon & Jalapeno): 3 out of 5 jump ropes made of cheese
  • Price: $5.99 each
  • Size: 8 sticks (if you can break them into that without mangling everything)
  • Purchased at: Domino’s Pizza
  • Nutritional Quirks: We’ll go with stuffing an entire pizza’s worth of cheese into some breadsticks, but I’ll change that once someone shows me a YouTube video of someone jump roping with cheese.
Junk Food

Limited Edition Doritos Sour Cream & Onion and Salsa Rio Tortilla Chips

27 Comments

I’ve become quite accustomed to Doritos coming out with crazy new flavors. It’s kind of their thing; it’s what they do.

However, last year they went in the opposite direction and introduced a blast from the past: Taco Flavor Doritos. This flavor originated in 1967 and persisted at least into the late 1970s, but was eventually retired.

The re-introduction of the Taco Doritos was an instant hit. Originally packaged as a limited edition, Doritos almost immediately announced that they would be keeping it on store shelves, and to this day I still see that alluring retro bag as I walk down the chip aisle.

The Taco Doritos did not come without controversy, however. Billed as the original flavor, the comments section of my review blew up. Battle lines were drawn. Some loved them, said they tasted just like the original, and expressed nostalgia as they remembered eating them ask kids.

Others were not so pleased. “These taste nothing like the original!” They shouted angrily from the rooftops of their Internets. “There’s sour cream in these! There was no sour cream in the original Taco flavor!”

It was a tortilla chip nation divided. However, to Doritos, it was money in the bank. Going off the business model that if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it, they’ve recently released two new/old limited edition retro flavors: Sour Cream & Onion and Salsa Rio, complete with retro packaging. I swear, the packaging is the real allure. Even I cannot resist its siren song.

Sadly, like Taco Flavor Doritos, I never had the opportunity to try either of these flavors, so I’m flying blind as far as their authenticity when compared to the originals. And again, like the Taco Flavor, I ask you, the reader, to tell me in the comments section if they got it right or not. I am looking forward to it. Imagine I just said that in a Mr. Burns voice with my fingers steepled. Muahahahaha.

Limited Edition Doritos Sour Cream & Onion

Those who so hated the addition of sour cream to the Taco Doritos won’t have a leg to stand on here. Personally, I had some trepidations about this flavor. I don’t know why, but it just seems like sour cream and onion should stick to potato chips and leave the tortillas out of it.

It must just be me, though, because there’s an entire Facebook page devoted to bringing them back. Congratulations to the 511 people who Liked this page! You succeeded! Or it was just a coincidence. Either way, now your page is USELESS.

From what I can tell on the Internet, these were introduced in the late 70s and were discontinued in the early 80s. Because of this, I can legitimately say that I never had a chance to experience the original Sour Cream & Onion Doritos, unless I had an irresponsible mother who fed me Doritos as a baby. From what I know, that did not happen.

As a fun treat, I found this delightful old commercial for Sour Cream & Onion Doritos, wherein a Gene Shalit lookalike (I’m sure he gets lots of work) knocks over a table and causes a butler to faint with the power of Doritos crunch. You’re welcome.

Like the Taco flavor, I can tell from several websites even beyond Facebook that there are people passionate about these Doritos and they must all be over the moon that they’ve been re-released. I’m sorry that I can’t give you a comparison, but I can give you my opinion. And pictures of chips.

I’m happy to report that sour cream and onion isn’t weird at all on a tortilla chip. At least, not the way Doritos makes them. Unfortunately, they taste almost indistinguishable from Cool Ranch Doritos. Honestly, if I were blindfolded and forced to eat these chips, first of all, I’d be terrified and confused, and second, I would immediately guess Cool Ranch. If a gun were to my head, I would be dead. Over Doritos.

If I really stretch it, I guess there’s a little bit more of an onion flavor than in Cool Ranch. I was pleased to see some heavily powdered chips in the bunch. There’s something about seeing a Dorito loaded with little flavor bits that makes me happy. But…what’s that? Red? What’s red doing on a sour cream and onion chip? Is the onion red? Ah well, who cares. Slightly more oniony Cool Ranch. You could do worse.

Limited Edition Doritos Salsa Rio

There’s also a big following for Salsa Rio on the Internet. I should probably just stop mentioning that, because I’m beginning to think that every discontinued junk food has about 500 “BRING IT BACK” websites and petitions. Some of these people sound almost desperate. It’s creepy.

Salsa Rio apparently had a short run from the late 80s to early 90s, which means I technically could have tried the original, but I was still young enough that I have the excuse that I had no idea they existed. My dad did all the shopping, and once I expressed an interest in a certain junk food, he would always make sure I had it. Forever. I think it took me three years to get him to realize I was tired of Cool Ranch. God bless him for trying.

I have no awesome Gene Shalit-related videos for Salsa Rio, but I like the fatass tomato on the front of the bag and the name itself. Salsa Rio. River of Salsa. It evokes Willy Wonka-esque visions in my mind of salsa rivers running through fields of flowers made of tortilla chips. The grass is luscious, fragrant cilantro. There’s wallpaper that tastes like onions and garlic when you lick it.

I should probably just stop there.

Man, these chips look muy caliente! This bright red is usually reserved for something like a Tapatio or Flamin’ variety of chip. What really hits you first, though, is the tomato flavor. That may not sound appealing, but there was a strong backup team of onion, garlic, and a variety of spices that I couldn’t identify but knew were participating.

There actually is a bit of heat, although nowhere near the mouth-blistering heat that the eye-searing color might indicate. There’s no substitute for a real, quality salsa, but Salsa Rio does its best to replicate it in powder form. All the flavors blended really nicely, and I found myself reaching into the bag more than I thought I would.

There’s nothing wrong with Limited Edition Doritos Sour Cream & Onion; I just can’t get over how similar they taste to Cool Ranch Doritos. Maybe it was those three years it took to convince my dad to buy a different flavor of Doritos for me, but my mouth got bored with Sour Cream & Onion pretty quickly. I’m sure the bag won’t go to waste, but they just didn’t bring anything new to the table.

There are many flavors of Doritos that I haven’t had in a few years, but I found Limited Edition Doritos Salsa Rio to be a refreshing change of pace from the usual recycled flavors that Doritos spits out. The flavors were bold, the powder was plentiful, and all the different salsa-like elements worked well together. That little kick of heat was like icing on the cake.

Sour Cream & Onion could remain limited and I wouldn’t mind that, but I’d actually like to see Doritos go the Taco Flavor route and keep Salsa Rio around. At least until my Junk Food Betty and the Salsa Factory fantasy comes true.

Limited Edition Doritos Sour Cream & Onion and Salsa Rio Tortilla Chips

  • Score (Sour Cream & Onion): 3 out of 5 Cool Ranch rip-offs
  • Score (Salsa Rio): 4.5 out of 5 giant tomatoes
  • Price: $4.29
  • Size: 11 oz. bag
  • Purchased at: Fry’s Foods
  • Nutritional Quirks: Despite neither Sour Cream & Onion or Salsa Rio having cheese as detectible flavors, both list cheddar and Romano cheeses as key ingredients.  Doritos makes lactose intolerant consumers sad.
Junk Food

Mission Sweet Sugar & Cinnamon White Corn Tortilla Chips

12 Comments

Well, it’s New Year’s Eve, and you know what that means! Yes, you will go to a party, get drunk, and act retarded, possibly kissing someone you barely know and then crying on his shoulder about how Jake was the best and you don’t understand why he suddenly won’t return your phone calls and then blaaaaargh all over his shoes.

Or perhaps you’ll ring in the new year a little more quietly, taking inventory of your bunker’s contents for the dozenth time, making sure every shotgun, bottle of water and Tactical Sammich is in place for the coming zombie infestation/financial and governmental collapse/Mayan calender apocalypse.

In reality, unless you’re a hermit or incarcerated, at some point during the holiday season you’ll be going to a party, voluntarily or involuntarily. Whether it’s a workplace potluck, a New Year’s bash, or a get-together to watch Favorite Football Team play against Rival Football Team, there’s one thing that’s going to be present:

Chips!

Yes, that’s right, chips. During the holiday season, they are quietly ubiquitous, usually sitting near some salsa or onion dip, waiting for you to mindlessly shove into your mouth as you make awkward small talk with that guy whose name you can’t remember or yell impotently at some dude in tights running up and down a length of grass. You may not think of chips as a holiday food, but they’re always there. Waiting. Watching.

Okay, so they’re not really watching. (It’s the salsa that you should be worrying about.)

Chips love to party so much that Tostitos is the official sponsor of the Fiesta Bowl, one of the bigger…bowls that goes on during this…bowl season. I’ll be honest with you, my knowledge of football bowls begins and ends with the male side of my family watching them on tv. I don’t even know why they’re called bowls. But hey, chips go in bowls, so that works…right?

This whole weak chip-and-bowl setup would not have happened except for something I half-heard on my local news this morning. I had to rewind just to make sure I’d heard correctly. The plastic-looking anchorwoman mentioned something about the Chip Drop coming back. I eagerly waited for her to expound, but no further information was given.

What the fuck is a Chip Drop?

Thanks to the Internet, I now know the answer to that question and I am so glad that I do, because it is fucking awesome and ridiculous at the same time. The aforementioned Fiesta Bowl takes place around where I live, and apparently there’s a little tradition known as the Chip Drop of which I was previously unaware. Let’s let the local news website explain:

“The last Chip Drop was in 1998 when Tostitos was the party’s title sponsor. A massive tortilla chip was dropped from a crane into an even larger jar of salsa.

The chip is a triangular, 4-by-4 foot piece of metal covered in small mirrors to represent salt. It will be suspended from a truss system above the video structure and dropped about 15 feet. High intensity beams will shoot from the chip to add flash, complementing the block party’s midnight fireworks show.”

Holy balls, you guys. Fuck watching some stupid disco ball drop in Times Square on your television. Those of us in the Valley of the Sun get the opportunity to watch a giant metal tortilla chip covered in salt mirrors. And the chip shoots high intensity beams. It’s not often there’s something to gloat about from where I live, but the Chip Drop just kicked the ass of all y’alls New Year’s traditions.

What does all this have to do with what I’m reviewing? Well, I’m about to have my own personal Chip Drop with this bag of Mission Sweet Sugar & Cinnamon White Corn Tortilla Chips.

Far be it from me to criticize a chip company for trying to go all holiday on our asses. I mean, Mission could have just stopped at offering red-and-green food-colored tortilla chips, but they weren’t done there. They wanted to make a tortilla chip with some serious holiday zazz. I keep saying “holiday” instead of “Christmas”, because I discovered these too late to review before that particular event, but hey. You know you’re still drinking eggnog. There’s still a tree in the corner of your living room, rapidly dropping needles and becoming more and more of a fire hazard. Give Mission a chance.

I say that with a bit of trepidation on my own part, because, well, tortilla chips and sugar and cinnamon don’t sound like flavors that would jive to me. Tortilla chips go with cheese, salsa, guacamole…but cinnamon and sugar? I know a lot of people like the combination of sweet and savory, but this one didn’t sound like a good match.

Upon opening the bag, however, I started to change my mind. I was immediately hit with the comforting and nostalgic odor of Cinnamon Toast Crunch. Cinnamon Toast Crunch rocks.

And, amazingly, so do Mission Sweet Sugar & Cinnamon White Corn Tortilla Chips! Honestly, they taste like thinner versions of the Cinnamon Toast Crunch, with just a hint of tortilla at the end. In fact, I’d say these have an even stronger sugar and cinnamon presence. Almost every chip was heavily coated with both sugar and spice, making me feel like I was reaching into a cereal box and not a bag of chips.

I think Mission’s winning secret here is using white corn tortilla chips, which let the sugar and cinnamon dominate while leaving just a tiny bit of tortilla on the back end. I also think making the chips thinner made the tortilla flavor less prominent.

Because I have some sort of compulsion about chips and dip, I immediately wondered what would make a good dip for these chips. After almost going with Funfetti frosting because I will use any flimsy excuse to eat Funfetti frosting despite being a grown woman, I went with Duncan Hines Whipped Cream Cheese Frosting. Delicious.

When I initially bought Mission Sweet Sugar & Cinnamon White Corn Tortilla Chips, I figured they would be totally disgusting, but make for a fun holiday review. Merry Christmas, my taste buds are suffering for your entertainment! I should know by now not to judge a chip by its cover. These chips totally rock; unfortunately, they’re a limited seasonal flavor, so you’ll just have to go back to being that person that eats Cinnamon Toast Crunch straight out of the box the rest of the year.

My only problem with these chips is that I could never blow through a whole bag, just because they are so sweet. Others with a sweet tooth more prominent than mine will probably fare better, but I couldn’t eat more than a handful or so at a time before I went into sugar overload. Also, if you’re a fan of dipping like myself, I wholly recommend a whipped frosting with a vanilla or cream cheese flavor, but any frosting thicker than that and you’re going to get serious chip breakage, as these are thinner-than-average tortilla chips.

I hope you all have a Happy New Year’s! And don’t worry about Jake; he’s a total jerk and you deserve better.

Mission Sweet Sugar & Cinnamon White Corn Tortilla Chips

  • Score: 4.5 out of 5 totally frickin’ awesome Chip Drops
  • Price: $3.29
  • Size: 12 oz. bag
  • Purchased at: Fry’s Foods
  • Nutritional Quirks: First ingredient listed is “ground corn treated with lime”. Thankfully, no lime flavor was detected upon consumption.
Junk Food

Hershey’s Kisses Holiday: Milk Chocolates filled with Cherry Cordial Crème, Candy Cane Flavored Candies, Dark Chocolates filled with Mint Truffle

8 Comments

Merry Christmas! Can you believe the last review I posted was Halloween? Life gets in the way sometimes. I’d started up a “Does this smell funny to you?” taster-for-hire business, but it went tits up, so I promise I won’t just be posting on holidays anymore. This doesn’t mean I’ll be posting a review on Boxing Day, but I promise you’ll see me again before Valentine’s Day.

When I think of Christmas Hershey’s Kisses, I think of your run-of-the-mill Kisses wrapped in green, red and silver foil. Apparently, I am ignorant and wrong. There are actually several special flavors of Christmas Kisses available. Well, Hershey’s calls them “Holiday” Kisses, but c’mon. They’re Christmas. Don’t fall in with the PC hype.

There are four different Holiday Kiss flavors: Milk Chocolate filled with Caramel, Milk Chocolate filled with Cherry Cordial Crème, Candy Cane Flavored Candies and Dark Chocolate filled with Mint Truffle. I only bought the latter three, and I’m not sure why, because I love chocolates filled with caramel. Perhaps it’s because I’m already pretty familiar with what caramel inside of chocolate tastes like. Perhaps it’s because buying three bags of Kisses is my limit. Whatever the reason, I found the three that I bought to be the most intriguing, so this is what you get. Well, sort of. One of my bags of Kisses went a little…AWOL, you might say. More on that later.

How long have these Holiday Kisses been in circulation? I have no idea. This is the first time I had ever seen them, but that doesn’t mean they haven’t been around since 1963. Well, they’re new to me, and maybe they’ll be new to you, too. Listen, just read the words and look at the pictures. Hell, you’re not even going to read the words. It’s Christmas. If you’re here at all, you’ve already eaten five pounds of ham, seven sugar cookies poorly decorated by your young relatives, and bitten the head off of at least one gingerbread man, having a not-so-secret feeling of satisfaction as you watch Gingerdead Man 2: Passion of the Crust.

I really hope you’re not actually watching that movie, unless you’re doing it in an effort to repulse your relatives and get a moment of private time for yourself. Desperate times, desperate measures. I understand. I don’t judge.

Hershey’s Kisses Milk Chocolates filled with Cherry Cordial Crème

Growing up, cherry cordials were a staple in my house. Not just during the holidays; there always seemed to be a box in the kitchen cupboard, right next to the Entenmann’s donuts variety pack . I did not partake in the cherry cordials. As a youth, I was not a fan of chocolate, and I hated cherries and all things cherry-flavored. I blame that on having to take a horrible “cherry-flavored” medication twice a day for god knows how many years. You can see how the association would taint my opinion.

These days, I am older, and questionably wiser. At the very least, I am more open-minded about trying new things, especially things that I would throw a tantrum over as a kid. I recently learned that green beans ain’t half bad. Hey, it only took two decades to figure that out!

The foil wrapping on the Cherry Cordial Kisses doesn’t exactly scream Christmas. Bright fuchsia with curvy brown stripes that would make Yipes the Zebra jealous? It’s the candy wrapper equivalent of buying a pink plastic Christmas tree.

Encased in classic Hershey’s Kisses chocolate, a pink ooze flooded my mouth as I bit into the candy. It was very viscous, and had a strong cherry flavor. Unfortunately, the taste was rather artificial. The gooey inside was a little cloyingly sweet, but the chocolate actually worked well in taming it a bit.

I could see how some people would be turned off by the texture of the filling, but I grew up with Freshen Up gum, so I wasn’t put off by it at all. Man, I am really showing my age with these references. First Yipes, then Freshen Up. If you were born after 1986, Google them.

At first, I rather enjoyed the Cherry Cordial Kisses, but the flavor got a little overwhelming after about three pieces. I haven’t had a chance to try a real cherry cordial since I’ve broadened my food horizons, so I figured I’d let my mom try one, since she was always the big cherry cordial fanatic. She immediately spit it in the trash and said it was awful.

Well. There’s one opinion.

Hershey’s Kisses Candy Cane Flavored Candies

Come Christmastime, there’s no shortage of peppermint-flavored sweets out there. It’s kind of hard to get excited about yet another candy cane-flavored candy, when I’ve already had at least a dozen of them. Given this, I wasn’t exactly chomping at the bit to try out these Holiday Kisses.

I am not, however, immune to the charms of Christmasy packaging, and Candy Cane Kisses obviously have the most Navidad-oriented foil wrapping, with the little red candy canes standing out against the shiny silver background. Anybody reaching into a bowl of candy is instantly going to know what these Kisses are all about, even if they are illiterate and can’t read the classic Kiss tissue paper…unwrapper…thingie.

Does that thing have a name? Is it called a flag? I’m going to call it a flag. I’m writing this on Christmas Eve. I can’t be delving deep into the depths of Hershey’s Kisses history to find out what their iconic little piece of paper is called and probably trademarked.

Getting back to the candy itself, I found myself enjoying Candy Cane Kisses more than I thought I would. I like that Hershey’s put the effort into making these Kisses white with red stripes, thus mimicking the look of an actual candy cane as much as they could, given the shape of a Kiss compared to a candy cane.

I was also pleasantly surprised to find that, when you bite into a Candy Cane Kiss, there’s little pieces of crunchy candy that add to the already strong peppermint flavor. I’d like to say those little crunchy bits are actual pieces of candy cane, but after reading the ingredients list, I couldn’t find any indication that this was the case. The main flavors of Candy Cane Kisses come from white chocolate and oil of peppermint. That said, the chocolate and the peppermint work great together, and I did love the little candy crunches, even if they weren’t authentic cane. I found myself reaching for a handful after I’d eaten my first one. Afterward, my breath was minty fresh and ready for some hot mistletoe action.

Hershey’s Kisses Dark Chocolates filled with Mint Truffle

Speaking of mint, here we have another minty Holiday Kiss. Hershey’s wants to make sure you’re 100% free of ham breath this holiday season.

The Mint Truffle Kiss foil wrapping is appropriately green, with adorable silver snowflakes all over. You may notice that there is no picture of an individually wrapped Mint Truffle Kiss here. There is a reason for this.

There are times when living with a food blogger can be trying. For instance, you get to stand around in the store while I try to find the best package that looks like it will photograph well and have the best chances of the product inside not being crushed or otherwise damaged. And then, once the product has been brought home, it’s hands-off until the photographs have been taken.

I was hanging out with my mom, who was visiting during the holiday season, during this particular purchase. She does not know the rules of food blogging. Before I had a chance to take my coat off once we’d come home, she had already ripped open the bag of Mint Truffle Kisses and was sampling the wares.

I was distressed. I informed her that the package was not to be opened until a picture had been taken. She was mortified, as if she had accidentally thrown away my sure to be award-winning piece of moldy bread that I was going to present at the Science Fair. Before I could get a word in, she already had the Scotch tape out, and was working fervently to repair the opened package with Scotch tape, positioning and re-positioning the plastic until she had repaired the bag to the point that you could barely see it had been opened. Can you spot the repairs? I have to admit, she did an admirable job.

The entire time she was doing this, I was trying to tell her that it was no big deal, and that the more she fussed with it, the more I was just going to make fun of her in this article. I don’t think she heard me. She was too busy trimming off millimeters of tape so it wouldn’t show in the picture.

For as much effort as she put into attempting to restore the bag back to mint (har) condition, she did not seem to take into consideration the fact that I had not taken a picture of the actual candy. So enamored was she with the Mint Truffle Kisses, in fact, that she either ate the whole bag or took the rest of them back to California with her while I wasn’t looking. This means I have no pictures of the foil wrapper or of the inside of the candy itself. Luckily, I did get the picture of the bag, and managed to score a few of the candies to eat for myself, so I can at least tell you how they looked and tasted.

I know you want pictures. I am sorry that I have none. Luckily, there is a candy out there that is remarkably similar to Mint Truffle Kisses: Andes Crème Menthes! You may have found these candies on your pillow upon arriving at a hotel room. You may have gotten one with your check at a restaurant once or twice. Mint Truffle Kisses taste almost exactly like these candies.

These Kisses have a dark chocolate outside, unlike the other Holiday selections. I’m not a huge fan of dark chocolate, but the kind they used for these Kisses is a less cocoa-heavy dark chocolate, and I found it paired fantastically with the minty inside. If you bite a Mint Truffle Kiss in half, you’ll see a green filling, but unlike the gooey, oozing center of the Cherry Cordials, this filling is about the same consistency as the dark chocolate outside, making for a smooth chocolate mint experience.

I enjoyed each of Hershey’s Holiday Kiss offerings, to varying degrees. I liked the pairing of chocolate and cherry in the Cherry Cordial Kisses, but found the artificial cherry flavor a little too strong, and the texture of the gooey center might be off-putting to some.

I thought I would find the Candy Cane Kisses a big yawn, but the creaminess of the white chocolate paired with the crunch of the tiny (although faux) candy cane pieces resulted in a pleasant peppermint candy with a texture that sets them apart from other Kiss varieties.

Pairing a mild dark chocolate with a creamy mint filling in the Mint Truffle Kisses was a no-brainer. If you like mint chocolate chip ice cream, well, you’ve pretty much found that flavor in the form of a Hershey’s Kiss. You could serve your Christmas guests Andes Crème Menthes and get pretty much the same flavor, but you’d be missing out on the iconic Kiss shape and the adorable snowflake wrapping. There’s a reason why my mom ran off with these before I had a chance to take a picture of the candies.

Today is Christmas, so unless you’re an extreme procrastinator, you’ve probably already got all your Christmas candies set out in your Santa-shaped bowls for all to snack on as they wait for their ham or duck or tofurkey or whatever it is you slave over to serve before the wrapping paper starts flying. However, I hope you’ll keep these in mind for next year, if they’re still around, as a fun alternative to the regular ol’ gussied up Hershey’s Kisses. And try the green beans this year; you may find that you like them, after all.

Hershey’s Kisses Holiday: Milk Chocolates filled with Cherry Cordial Crème, Candy Cane Flavored Candies and Dark Chocolates filled with Mint Truffle

  • Score: Milk Chocolates filled with Cherry Cordial Crème: 2.5 out of 5 late 1980’s gum references
  • Score: Candy Cane Flavored Candies: 4 out of 5 candy cane Vaudeville Hooks
  • Score: Dark Chocolates filled with Mint Truffle: 4.5 out of 5 carefully Scotch-taped bags of candy
  • Price: $2.50 each
  • Size: 10 oz. bags
  • Purchased at: Target
  • Nutritional Quirks: Candy Cane Kisses appear to not contain actual candy canes. The “truffle” in Mint Truffle is unexplained.
Junk Food

Chips Ahoy! Haunted Halloween Chocolate Chip Cookies

2 Comments

Did you think I’d forgotten about Halloween? Shame on you. And shame on me for not having all that much to work with this year. But I’ve got a few things up my sleeve, and Chips Ahoy! Haunted Halloween Cookies are one of them. Not literally though; I don’t want crumbsleeves.

If you’ve read this website for any amount of time, you know I appreciate a good piece of packaging, and Chips Ahoy! Brings it in spades. These are not just Chips Ahoy! cookies, they’re Chips Ahoy! Haunted Halloween cookies. BEWARE! It’s all black and orange and ghosts and bats and YEAH HALLOWEEN!

They didn’t just go all-out on the front and ignore the rest, however. There’s more! Tombstones and black cats! EERIE! (Chips Ahoy! are not very eerie, but I appreciate the sentiment.) BE AFRAID! (There’s not really much to be afraid of, besides maybe choking on a chocolate chip, which would be embarrassing.)

Even the ends get the spooky treatment. SPINE TINGLING! Love it.

On the other side, there’s even a recipe for Chips Ahoy! wiches, which a.) is a rather awkward name, and b.) totally should have been “witches”. There’s even a damn witch right next to the word! Chips, you dropped the ball. But I forgive you because your package is still 100% awesome.

I would have made the wi(t)ches, but I didn’t have any ice cream or Halloween sprinkles, and it just strikes me as odd to make ice cream sandwiches for myself. That’s a fun family activity. Just hanging out by myself with a pile of cookies and ice cream rolled in sprinkles seems sad. I don’t have enough cats to justify that.

“Have the guts to make it?” is also a lovely touch. I guess I just didn’t have the guts, though.

Oh hey, added bonus – there are cookies inside! I haven’t had a Chips Ahoy! in forever, but these seem smaller than I remember. If you don’t know what a Chips Ahoy! tastes like, well…it is a chocolate chip cookie. The crunchy kind, not the soft kind. Although there are Chewy Chips Ahoy! and I could probably put down a whole package of those. Oh, I just looked at their website, and I guess they have a “Chewy Gooey” kind now that has fudge inside and-

You know what, we’re getting off track here.

What sets apart Haunted Halloween Chips Ahoy! (can I stop with the exclamation point now?) from their regular chocolate chip cookies is the addition of little orange candy-coated bits of chocolate thrown in with the regular chocobits. Not exactly revolutionary, but look at them! They look about as Halloweeny as chocolate chips can look without being made out of bat wings and eyes of newt. Or some little ghost-shaped candies thrown on. Either way.

By appearances, you’d think the addition of the orange candies wouldn’t really make that much of a difference in the cookie, but I think they bring a little something to the cauldron. You can taste the candy shell, which adds a different sweetness than the cookie and the chocolate chips, and the added crunch is notable and rather fun. It’s not like the addition is groundbreaking (see: Keebler Chips Deluxe, every mom who has ever baked M&Ms into cookies), but it’s fun, and it’s Halloweeny, which is more than I can say for most other cookies. At least Chips Ahoy is trying.

And let’s not forget that packaging!

Chips Ahoy! Haunted Halloween Chocolate Chip Cookies

  • Score: 4.5 out of 5 cauldrons full of cookie ice cream sandWITCHES
  • Price: $2.50
  • Size: 12.2 oz. package
  • Purchased at: Walmart #3799
  • Nutritional Quirks: No newts were harmed in the making of these cookies. As far as I know.
Fast Food

Del Taco Mac ‘n Cheese Crunch Bites and Root Beer Float Shake

1 Comment

Mac ‘n Cheese Crunch Bites

Macaroni and cheese is generally considered a kids’ food. I suppose we have Kraft to thank for that; the current commercials I’ve seen for their iconic blue-box pasta consist of children splashing around in puddles of cheese sauce, irritating me with their gap-toothed grins and overenthusiastic energy. The macaroni even comes in shapes like Scooby-Doo and Spongebob Squarepants. If you’re an adult eating pasta shaped like the Mystery Machine, you’re either finishing your kid’s leftovers or you’ve made some seriously poor life decisions.

As a side note, I’m now irritated at Kraft and Canada. Kraft for making me visit their Wikipedia page in an attempt to identify current pop-culture pasta shapes, and Canada for making me wonder why the fuck the Kraft Macaroni and Cheese Wikipedia entry was titled “Kraft Dinner”, which made me read the discussion page, and any time I read a discussion page on Wikipedia I’m guaranteed to lose my mind. Also, a whole section on Kraft “Dinner” and Canadian culture? This Wikipedia entry is obviously Canuck-skewed. I cannot condone that.

Now that I’ve gotten out my inappropriate level of irritation at Kraft and Canada, let’s get down to brass tacks. Americans love deep-frying things. Oreos, candy bars, beer, bacon (of course), even butter. Yes, deep-fried butter. You can thank Paula Deen for my knowledge of that phenomenon, even though she wasn’t the first to pioneer such a revolutionary concept.

I also have Paula Deen to thank for my knowledge of deep-fried macaroni and cheese. During a brief period of insanity in my life, I actually watched shows besides Good Eats on the Food Network, and thus witnessed ham-to-the-face Paula make these bite-sized heart attacks. I was intrigued, but not enough to actually make them myself, so I figured I’d never see fried mac and cheese again, unless someone held a gun to my head and forced me to go to the state fair.

So you can imagine my surprise when Del Taco announced that they had a new product called Mac ‘n Cheese Crunch Bites. Grammar nazi rage over the omission of a second apostrophe after the “n” aside, I was immediately interested. Yeah, I still eat macaroni and cheese. At least I avoid those that are shaped like someone who lives in a pineapple under the sea. Give me some credit for that. I mainly use it as a vessel to deliver massive amounts of Cajun seasoning and hot sauce into my body when I have a salt craving and desire something a little more tangible than ramen. Since I’ve already admitted I’m an adult who enjoys mac ‘n’ cheese, might as well try fried mac ‘n’ cheese. From a fast food quasi-Mexican joint. Odd choice for Del Taco, but I’m not complaining.

 

SUCK IT, GANON!

As you can see, these Crunch Bites come in a triangular shape; size-wise, they’d fit nicely into the circular stain on your coffee table that your friend left after he passed out with a full glass of gin and tonic in front of him. The coaster was five inches away; would it have been so hard to use it?

They were, of course, appropriately greasy, what with being fried and all. The batter had a nice crunch and was lighter than I thought it would be. The texture and flavor were reminiscent of the beer batter you’d find on a nice piece of fish you’d order with chips.

Unfortunately, the inside didn’t do justice to the outside. You can see the little bifurcated macaronis covered in unnaturally orange cheese…substance. The pasta has an okay texture; it didn’t taste mushy or undercooked, but it was largely unremarkable. The cheese tasted markedly artificial, but that’s to be expected. When I’m buying Mac ‘n Cheese Crunch Bites from Del Taco, I’m not expecting to find gourmet flavors inside a fried batter shell. What’s interesting is that the cheese also managed to be rather bland.

If the macaroni and cheese had been served in a bowl instead of a fried triangle, it would have been usalvageable. The pasta and cheese have the batter to thank for it being mildly edible. I also found that, like with Kraft macaroni and cheese, it becomes much more palatable when used as a vehicle for hot sauce. Slathered in Del Inferno, the Crunch Bites rise to the status of “acceptable snack if you’re really stoned”. Which is still not the highest of praises. In the end, I have to judge Mac ‘n Cheese Crunch Bites on their own, and the verdict is not good. The batter can’t save the bland, artificial-tasting cheese and the forgettable macaroni pasta.

Root Beer Float Shake

I bought the Root Beer Float Shake almost as an afterthought. My main motivation, beyond already enjoying the occasional root beer float, was the name. Root Beer Float…Shake? What? It just seemed like an odd name and concept. Can’t you make a root beer float shake just by mixing the ice cream and soda in a float together?

The answer is yes, and that’s exactly what this shake tasted like. Del Taco offers Barq’s as their root beer of choice, and I assume they just blended that with some vanilla ice cream and boom! Root Beer Float Shake.

It’s not exactly an innovative concept, and yet, I really enjoyed my Root Beer Float Shake. The root beer flavor was a little muted and I detected little carbonation, but that’s the magic that happens when you mix up a float. The consistency was perfect – creamy, smooth, and just the right amount of thickness. It was also sweet, but not cloyingly so. I sucked down the entire shake without feeling sugar-sick afterwards.

I figured, much like with many of the foods I review, I’d finish the Root Beer Float Shake, write about it, and forget it forever. Not so! As I was cropping the picture, I suddenly thought, “Damn, I could totally go for a Root Beer Float Shake right now.” Hell, I had the same thought writing this brief review. I guess it’s a good thing my nearest Del Taco closed and I now have to go out of my way to go there; I may have developed a serious Root Beer Float Shake addiction.

The Root Beer Float Shake is a simple concept, but a successful one. Sure, anybody can mix root beer and vanilla ice cream together. But Del Taco had just the right ratio of soda to ice cream, and the consistency was perfect. Sometimes a new menu item concept doesn’t have to be groundbreaking; it just has to be done well. Root Beer Float Shake rules; Mac ‘n Cheese Crunch Bites suck. Del Taco should have taken a lesson from themselves.

Mac ‘n Cheese Crunch Bites

  • Score: 2 out of 5 Del Inferno sauce packets
  • Price: $1.99
  • Size: 6 Crunch Bites
  • Purchased at: Del Taco #806
  • Nutritional Quirks: No nutritional information available on Del Taco’s website, so I’ll just say, batter so right, mac ‘n cheese so wrong.

Root Beer Float Shake

  • Score: 4.5 out of 5 immersion blenders making magic happen
  • Price: $2.89
  • Size: 16 oz. cup, I’m guessing?
  • Purchased at: Del Taco #806
  • Nutritional Quirks: Again, no nutritional info. Egg on my face if it turns out they didn’t just mix Barq’s with vanilla ice cream and instead used some sort of root beer extract or something.
Junk Food

Tabasco Fiasco!

5 Comments

As we all know, the Internet is a magical place where you can buy just about anything your little heart desires. However, this can easily backfire on you. We’ve all experienced it: that drunken 3am purchase of Transformers: The Complete Series off of Amazon that set you back $200. Maybe that Groupon for 90% off pedicures was a deal too great to pass up, until you remembered you hate people touching your feet. Maybe you bought a vintage 1980s GI Joe ID bracelet off eBay for $30 in a fit of nostalgia, even though you’re a grown man and it won’t even fit on your admittedly skinny wrists. (True story.)

The point here, obviously, is that we’ve all made that impulsive purchase off the Internet that we either completely regretted or just wondered what the hell we were thinking. As you may have guessed, this review is being written in the spirit of this concept. In this case, however, there was a series of events that led up to me owning a Tabasco lollipop. I will spell out the scenario:

I walk through the front door of my apartment. How It’s Made, a show about, well, how things are made, is on the TV. I like to keep my cats company with the dulcet tones of Brooks Moore, which I’m sure they appreciate. It just so happens that they’re showing how Tabasco is made. I stop, transfixed, because Tabasco is awesome and I was eager to learn their terrible secrets of deliciousness. At the end, they show all the different flavors Tabasco makes. I’d seen most at the store, but one flavor stood out: Garlic Pepper.

Garlic Pepper! I’ve never seen that in any store! I had the brilliant idea of checking to see if I could buy it off the Internet. Well, of course I could. Tabasco has its own online store, and they offer a 6-pack “Family of Flavors” that offers all the flavors. In addition, I could get a free bottle of their newest flavor, Buffalo Style, with any purchase. Sold!

I made a critical mistake, however; instead of just impulsively spending an inappropriate amount of money on condiments, I thought, hey, maybe I’ll just look around the Tabasco Country Store a little bit. Just for kicks.

And that is when it happened.

Oh, hello. There’s a whole section labeled snacks! What’s this now? Popcorn? SPAM?! Ice cream mix?! It was a whole world of crazy for which I was entirely unprepared. My mind reeled. I was powerless. And that is the story about how I now have ten bottles of various Tabascos in my house and wound up being the not-exactly-proud owner of Zapp’s Spicy Creole Tomato Potato Chips and a Tabasco Lollipop. In seven paragraphs.

On the bright side, I’ve got a (relatively) new flavor of Tabasco that was free, a bag of potato chips from a brand I’ve never seen, and a hot sauce lollipop that most of you will probably never try, and for good reason. These three factors doth a JFB review make. Let’s see if I can save this Tabasco Fiasco by turning it into something entertaining enough to justify paying two dollars for a hot sauce sucker. I think we know who the real sucker is.

Tabasco Buffalo Style Hot Sauce

The box that my bottle of Tabasco Buffalo Style came in claims that it is “buffalo style, perfected.” It went even further, saying, “Once you try new Tabasco Buffalo Style Hot Sauce, you’ll see that it stands heads and horns above the rest. It’s a thick sauce, so it sticks to things better. And it has just the right amount of heat, so it does more than make one-of-a-kind wings.”

It goes on to describe all the different uses for the sauce that you already know about, because if you have half a brain you can figure out that you can use buffalo sauce for more than just wings. I also like that they break down the idea that thick sauce sticks to things better. Physics lesson learned; thanks Tabasco!

 

Two-day-old leftover Extra Crispy drumstick courtesy of KFC.

I did find that it was indeed thicker than say, Frank’s Red Hot Sauce, but it wasn’t quite as thick as I thought it would be, which was a little disappointing. It’s about as thick as Tapatio hot sauce, if that gives you a fair comparison.

As for the taste, at first I thought, “Well, it tastes like buffalo sauce. What more can I say.” But that didn’t sit quite right with me. Then I realized I’d only tried it on the chicken. I had to taste it in its pure form. So I found myself, once again, standing in my kitchen, pantsless…sucking on a bottle of hot sauce.

I’m glad I did, because I think it gave me some clarity in regards to both texture and flavor. Tabasco Buffalo Style isn’t as thick as I thought it would be, but I think that little bump in thickness really does make a difference. Furthermore, I feel like there’s a balance of heat and vinegar twang that other buffalo sauces lack. With some other sauces, I sometimes feel like I’m being hit over the head with vinegar, but Tabasco hit a nice balance. Between the thicker texture and the flavor balance, I’d say Tabasco has made my favorite buffalo sauce yet. Way to go, Tabasco!

Zapp’s Potato Chips Spicy Creole Tomato Spiked with Tabasco

There’s a lot going on here, just in the name of these chips. Spicy! Creole! Tomato…? Spiked with Tabasco! So many flavors in one bag! I like the design; it looks kind of like they went old school. Either that, or Zapp’s hasn’t actually changed their design in 40 years. I’m fine with either one.

Even the back of the bag is adorable in its quaintness. If ZPCSCTSwT’s bag was a website, a little envelope would be sliding in and out of that mailbox, and there would probably be dancing Tabasco logo GIFs. Maybe there would be an embedded MIDI of a banjo playing (Zapp’s is proudly from Louisiana, after all). The background would be eye-burningly orangish-red and all the font would be minty green and probably Comic Sans. It doesn’t hurt that they call their website a “FunSite” on the bag.

However, I shouldn’t judge a chip by its cover. Let’s see how spicy, creole, tomato and Tabasco all work together!

As you can see at the bottom of the front of the bag, these aren’t just potato chips, they’re also kettle chips. And they kettle well, hitting that sweet spot of being thick and crunchy without being so thick they threaten to break your teeth and stab your gums.

With words like “spicy”, “spiked” and “Tabasco” in the product’s title, you’d think you would be immediately hit with a blast of heat. Not so much, here. There was a little heat, but it didn’t really build to anything that would have you running for the milk jug. They did hit the Tabasco note, however; the classic combination of spice and vinegar was prominent.

That leaves tomato and Creole. I found tomato an odd choice of flavoring, especially considering how many other flavors were in the pool. Surprisingly, under the initial Tabasco taste, there was a subtle yet noticeable tomato flavor that worked well with the Tabasco.

As for Creole, can’t say I was sold on that one. First off, “Creole” is not really a flavor, it’s more of a style of cuisine. I gave Zapp’s a pass, however, because you could argue that they meant “the flavors of Creole cuisine”. Unfortunately for Zapp’s, I can’t give them a pass on actually representing the flavors of Creole. There were hints of onion, and yeah, there’s some spiciness, but I feel like Zapp’s thinks they can get away with throwing “Creole” in with impunity because they’re from Louisiana. I would have been perfectly fine with just “Spicy Tomato Spiked with Tabasco”.

Nitpicking aside, I did enjoy ZPCSCTSwT overall. While the spiciness never reached the height I was expecting, the more I ate the chips, the more I found that I enjoyed that level of heat and it was pretty spot-on with Tabasco, as was the level of vinegar. That, along with the underlying flavors of tomato and onion, as well as a satisfying crunch, make Zapp’s Potato Chips Spicy Creole Tomato Spiked with Tabasco an enjoyable snack. It’s a shame and also dangerous that the only way I can get these chips again is by going on the Internet. Explaining to my parents that I have to move back in with them because I went broke buying Tabasco products online would be pretty embarrassing.

Tabasco Lollipop

Speaking of embarrassing, we come to the final impulse item, the Tabasco Lollipop. But listen, I can explain.

I have a serious oral fixation (save the jokes) and self-diagnosed Restless Hand Syndrome, which means I’m constantly fiddling with things and have to choose between chain smoking, constantly eating and thus becoming too fat to fit through my doorway, chewing gum, or sucking on hard candy. My lungs already hate me, I like being able to see my toes, and I don’t have a sweet tooth. I’ve found myself occasionally wishing someone would make a gum that tasted like meat, but quickly realized that would be a horrible idea.

So, when I saw the Tabasco Lollipop, I thought, perfect! A hot sauce hard candy that will keep both my hands and my mouth occupied (again, with the jokes) while filling my mouth with delicious spiciness.

That did not work out. From my very first suck (STOP IT) I knew exactly what this “Tabasco” sucker really tasted like:

ATOMIC FIREBALLSSSSS!

I loved Atomic Fireballs as a kid. At some point, I was in a class where the teacher handed them out as rewards for stuff like good grades or generally not acting like an asshole. We would all sit around, seeing who could keep the candy in their mouths the longest before giving in. For those unfamiliar with Atomic Fireballs, they taste like cinnamon and burn like hell. That may not sound fun, but somehow, it is.

One problem I have with this sucker is the size. I know I have a small mouth, but I think most people would have a hard time fitting the whole thing in (SHUT UP). On the plus side, the large size means that you’ll get a lot of candy bang for your buck. Two bucks, in this case. Plus, you’d have to have a pretty strong constitution to keep it in your mouth for any long period of time.

So, Tabasco Lollipops taste absolutely nothing like Tabasco. That’s a pretty big fail. On the other hand, they taste like Atomic Fireballs, which is great. Makes it difficult to grade. I think I’ll split the difference and call it fair.

Thus ends our tour of the Tabasco Fiasco. Turned out pretty okay, if you ask me. I have a new favorite buffalo sauce, some tasty chips, and a lollipop that will probably take me a month to get through. Some impulsive Internet purchases end in regret; this one resulted in some surprisingly good stuff. And a really long review.

Oh, and the Tabasco Garlic Pepper Hot Sauce? Pretty darn good.  The garlic adds an interesting dimension.  3.5 out of 5.

Tabasco Buffalo Style Hot Sauce

  • Score: 4.5 out of 5 “horns above the rest”
  • Price: Free! (With purchase)
  • Size: 5 oz. bottle
  • Purchased at: Tabasco Country Store
  • Nutritional Quirks: No surprises here, just a solid buffalo sauce!

Zapp’s Potato Chips Spicy Creole Tomato Spiked with Tabasco

  • Score: 4 out of 5 embedded MIDI banjo songs
  • Price: $1.25
  • Size: 2 oz. bag
  • Purchased at: Tabasco Country Store
  • Nutritional Quirks: Creole suspiciously missing from chips made in Louisiana

Tabasco Lollipop

  • Score: 3 out of 5 Atomic Fireball contests
  • Price: $2.00
  • Size: 1 lollipop
  • Purchased at: Tabasco Country Store
  • Nutritional Quirks: Does not taste at all like Tabasco, but does taste just like an Atomic Fireball!
Junk Food

Fun Sweets Cotton Candy Teddy Bear Vanilla

2 Comments

Happy Valentine’s Day! What better way to say “I love you” than a tub of cotton candy? When I first saw this in the Valentine’s section in the grocery store, I thought to myself, “What an odd choice for a Valentine’s candy.” When I think Valentine’s Day, I of course think chocolate. When I think cotton candy, I think of the fair. When I picked it up and turned it around, I decided I needed to have it. You’ll see why in just a second.

I thought that this was just a one-shot deal on the part of Fun Sweets, a company I’d never heard of before. When I went and looked up their website, I was disappointed to see that cotton candy is the only thing Fun Sweets makes. It just re-purposes its product into different holiday-themed tubs.

But that’s okay, because check this baby out:

Earlier I stated that a tub of cotton candy was the best way to say “I love you.” I’ve changed my mind. Nothing says “I love you” like a terrifying bear face with a heart nose that looks like it wants to eat you, but in the happiest of ways. Maybe I’m jaded; maybe other people just see a cute bear face. I see a veneer of cute with sinister undertones.

There’s more than just Cute Creepy Bear to this cotton candy, however. There’s a Smile Guarantee!

Scientifically proven! Guarantee! Oh, but there’s a disclaimer: if I’m a major grouch who doesn’t smile at a puppy or a rainbow, then even Fun Sweets Cotton Candy can’t help me. There have been times I haven’t smiled at puppies, like when they’re running across a busy street and I’m like, “Hey puppy! Stop being stupid! Get out of the street!” I don’t want to see a puppy get run over. That wouldn’t make me smile at all.

I suppose there are also times I haven’t smiled at rainbows, like when it’s just stopped raining and I’m coming home with a handful of groceries, and nobody thought to put a gutter on the roof above the staircase leading to my apartment, so I have to walk under a waterfall of roof runoff that’s probably full of pigeon poop. There are times I can be a major grouch in the morning, too, especially if there’s no coffee. I guess my guarantee is void. Sad face.

I’ve never had packaged cotton candy before. I’ve had cotton candy at fairs; I’ve even made it once, at the Orange County Fair or Oktoberfest or something. I was volunteering for Girl Scouts or maybe forced into high school community service. Who cares; all I know is I started with a sour puss because I didn’t want to be there but wound up having a lot of fun. Maybe there’s hope for my Smile Guarantee yet.

I just realized from reading Fun Sweets’ website that this is actually called Fun Sweets Cotton Candy Teddy Bears and that the flavor is vanilla. If I’d bothered to read the side of the tub, I would have learned that white = vanilla, pink = cherry, and yellow = banana. Well, huh. I’d been going with straight-up Fun Sweets Cotton Candy this whole time. I had no idea there were other flavors. The title of this post just got three words longer.

This is the clump that came out when I pulled a piece out of the tub. It’s a little denser than the cotton candy you’d get from a vendor at a fair, but that’s to be expected. Hand-spun is obviously going to be different from cotton candy that was probably mechanically stuffed into a tub.

Even though it’s denser, it still has the fun tear-apart characteristics of cotton candy, as you can see. It also immediately gets stuck all over your fingers, like fresh cotton candy. I hate sticky fingers, but cotton candy is so fun, I’m willing to give Fun Sweets a pass. The jury is still out, however, on Sticky Fingaz. I’ve got my eye on you, sir. Just because you were on The Shield doesn’t mean you get a free ride.

As for taste and texture in the mouth, Fun Sweets Cotton Candy Teddy Bear Vanilla is as close to fresh cotton candy as you can get. It starts out as fun fluff, then immediately dissolves into a tiny clump of sugar crystals. I can taste a hint of vanilla, but really, it’s just all sugar, all the time.

Frankly, I expected pre-packaged Fun Sweets’ Cotton Candy to suck. I wasn’t sure how it would suck, I just thought it would. As it turns out, it’s the next best thing to fresh, hand-spun cotton candy as you can get. Tearing those pieces off and shoving them into my mouth, I felt like a kid again. And, obviously, this product is made for kids. When it’s February and there’s snow covering the ground, receiving Teddy Bear Cotton Candy for Valentine’s Day would make any kid with good sense squee. There’s even little hearts on the tub to write your “To” and “From” on.  And for just one dollar apiece, if you want your kid to be a god, even if just for a day, have them hand these out instead of stupid Dragonball Z Valentine’s cards.  Bulky, but totally worth it.

I guess I won’t have to worry about my Smile Guarantee, because Fun Sweets Cotton Candy Teddy Bear Vanilla did, indeed, make me smile. I would have preferred a less vaguely unsettling form of teddy bear, but any kid eating this would be too busy shoving sugar in her mouth to notice.

  • Score: 4.5 out of 5 Cute Creepy Bear hugs
  • Price: $1.00
  • Size: 1.5 oz. tub
  • Purchased at: Fry’s Foods
  • Nutritional Quirks: The ingredients are simple: sugars, artificial flavors and artificial color (red #40, yellow#5). But the product is as white as newly fallen snow. What’s with the colors?