Tag Archives: cheeseburger

Pepperidge Farm Goldfish Cheeseburger Crackers

Pepperidge Farm Goldfish Cheeseburger Crackers PackageWho doesn’t love a good cheeseburger? Well, I guess the answer to that would be vegetarians. But still. With it being July 4th, and on a Saturday no less, you can bet that grills all over the country are going to get fired up and many cows shall be sacrificed to the barbecue gods.

Which means, of course, that it’s the perfect time to break out…Goldfish crackers?

Yes, that’s right, Pepperidge Farms has a new flavor of Goldfish, and it’s Cheeseburger. Showing my age here, but I seem to remember a time when Goldfish were just cheese. Maybe pretzel? Now they have an actual section in the cracker aisle, complete with sweet flavors and foil-lined FLAVOR BLASTED varieties.

As you can see by the picnic-themed package, while the flavor is technically Cheeseburger, there’s actually three different fish flavors involved: ketchup, cheddar and burger. Does this sound gross to you? Well, it’s probably supposed to. Goldfish Cheeseburger Crackers has “intentionally outrageous” written all over it.

Speaking of packaging, I can’t help but comment on the weirdness I found on the back of the bag:

Pepperidge Farm Goldfish Cheeseburger Crackers Package Back

The caption above this picture reads, “They took a trip to Grandma’s house through hills and over dale, it’s always fun wherever they go. Now tell us your Goldfish tale.”

While that sounds innocent and all, I’m getting a real The Hills Have Eyes vibe from the picture. I feel like the convertible is filled with a group of carefree Goldfish teenagers on a summer road trip. The two in the front are probably a couple, feeling good after just engaging in some full-on out-of-wedlock canoodling just minutes earlier, while the three in the back passed a joint around.

Oh, sure, that Goldfish sitting on the porch in the background looks innocent, but when those teen fishies drive up to ask for directions, they’re going to be in a world of trouble. If you’ve never played Fallout 3 or seen Six String Samurai, let’s just say that the smiling, happy family living out in the sticks wants to have you for dinner, if you catch my drift.

Back to our less-doomed Goldfish. Well, not so much, considering I will be eating them. As I mentioned before, these seem to exist purely for their wtf value. But when you break it down, are they really that outrageous?

The cheddar ones are obviously just regular Goldfish.

Ketchup may seem weird, but only if you’re an American living outside of the Mid-Atlantic area – Herr’s, based in PA, makes Heinz Ketchup Potato Chips, which I was able to try thanks to MunchPak and actually found quite delicious (even though I don’t like actual ketchup). And if you live in Canada, you can probably find a bag of Lay’s Ketchup right next to the original flavor.

Burger is obviously the real yuck-factor flavor here. But is it really that far-fetched? Chicken in a Biskit has existed since 1964. Ritz has Bacon Crackers on store shelves, which I consider the spiritual successor to Nabisco’s tragically discontinued Bacon Thins. I could go on – Doritos has ventured into the world of meat-flavored chips several times.

The long-winded point I’m making here is that YOU DON’T SCARE ME, GOLDFISH! When I first picked them up, I had the knee-jerk hesitance anyone would have regarding Cheeseburger crackers, but now that I’ve broken it down, I feel a sense of relief.

Of course, I haven’t actually tried them yet.

Pepperidge Farm Goldfish Cheeseburger Crackers

When you eat a Cheeseburger, you don’t lick the bun, peel the cheese slice off and then bite the burger separately, but I felt like I should try each one separately before putting the whole thing together.

The smell when I opened the bag was very much…cheeseburger. Cheap cheeseburger. McDouble cheeseburger. I’ve encountered this phenomenon before, with Doritos Cheeseburger chips. Which was honestly encouraging, as I didn’t throw up after eating those, so hey. Not throwing up is always a plus when doing a review.

All ideas of trying each flavor separately went out the window as soon as I carefully picked out my first cheese-flavored Goldfish. I should have expected this, because obviously the flavor dust of the three respective flavors is going to mingle as they wiggle around in the bag. So, despite trying all three flavors separately several times, they all tasted pretty much the same.

I was surprised that burger wasn’t the overwhelming flavor – instead, there was mostly a traditional Goldfish cheese taste, with hints of tomato and something vaguely beefy. Honestly, the smell was much more reminiscent of cheeseburger than the actual taste.

What was most notable was the weird, bitter aftertaste that followed each handful of Cheeseburger Goldfish. I have zero explanation as to why it was there, but it definitely was, and it detracted greatly from my bizarro cheeseburger cracker experience. This was the most disappointing part of Goldfish Cheeseburger Crackers, which sounds strange when you’re talking about little burger fish.

I looked to the ingredients list for possible explanations for the bitterness, but was met only with more questions. I assume “grill flavor from sunflower oil” was meant to create the burger flavor, but what does that even mean? Tomato paste” accounts for the ketchup taste, but what the hell are juice concentrates of watermelon and apple doing in there? What is going on?

Another odd tidbit – a while after I’d put the Cheeseburger Goldfish away, I suddenly felt like my breath smelled like a pound of raw onions. I mean, there’s both onion powder and onion juice concentrate (ew) listed, but I never really caught that as a dominant flavor while I was eating the crackers.

I guess my final takeaway from Pepperidge Farm Goldfish Cheeseburger Crackers is confusion. They smelled so promisingly cheeseburger-y, but they didn’t taste nearly as strong, and the bitter aftertaste ruined the experience. That part became even weirder than the idea that I was eating burger fish. And what’s with the onion breath? How does sunflower oil turn into grill flavor? Watermelon juice?

I think I’ll just leave you with that question.

Pepperidge Farm Goldfish Cheeseburger Crackers

  • Score: 1.5 out of 5 cannibalistic Goldfish
  • Price: $1.99
  • Size: 6.3 oz. bag
  • Purchased at: Target
  • Nutritional Quirk: With so many weird ingredients, it’s hard to pick just one. I do wonder why they didn’t use beef bouillon for flavoring, however.

Wendy’s Spicy Chipotle Crispy Chicken Sandwich, Spicy Chipotle Jr. Cheeseburger and Natural-Cut French Fries with Sea Salt

Please welcome special guest reviewer Robert (Not Bob).  A little while back, GrubGrade broke the news that Wendy’s had some new items in test markets. One of these items was being tested in the Dallas area. My friend Robert lives around there, so I asked him if he would try it out and write a review for me. To my astonishment, he actually did! Enjoy this sneak peak of what may someday come to a Wendy’s near you!

To me, Wendy’s seems to be the “Red Haired Step-Child” of fast food chains. They’ve even acknowledged this by choosing a red haired, and presumably gap-toothed, hayseedish-looking child as their mascot.

Unlike your usual reviewers, I’m not a habitual frequenter of fast food restaurants. But the 3 or 6 times a year I do consent to go to one, I never even consider Wendy’s. Hell, they can’t even make their hamburger patties the right shape.

A quick look at the Wikipedia page for Wendy’s tells me that it’s the third largest hamburger chain after McDonald’s and Burger King, which surprises me, because I personally can’t find anyone that’ll admit to frequenting their establishment. As for myself, I honestly think that the last time I visited one was about 20 years ago, when I was dirt-poor and in college, and discovered their cheap-and-surprisingly-good chili. Most of the people I talked to about Wendy’s seemed to share the same opinion, which is “They have a couple of things that are pretty good, but when I want a burger, I go elsewhere.”

At this point, I’ll pause to point out that the sole qualification I have for writing this review is that I live in North-Central Texas, where Wendy’s is test marketing a couple of new menu items.

Like every other chain, Wendy’s is rolling out a spicy chicken sandwich. Since chipotle is the “go-to” spicy of fast food, they’ve jumped on that bandwagon too, resulting in the “Spicy Chipotle Crispy Chicken Sandwich”.

The first thing I noticed when I stepped into a local Wendy’s is that the average age of their patrons appears to be hovering around the 65~70 mark. Maybe that’s the secret of their success. The geezers don’t want to dodge the kids at McDonalds and they don’t want to associate with the potheads at Taco Bell, so they’ve made Wendy’s their destination restaurant. Hey, they actually have “Old Fashioned” as part of their subtitle, so that may actually be the market they’re playing for.

The second thing I noticed was that my target sandwich is a 99-cent item and has a companion menu item, the 99-cent Spicy Chipotle Jr. Cheeseburger. I decided to take one for the team and try them both. I also decided to give their much-hyped Natural-Cut French Fries with Sea Salt a shot, so you get a bonus review, even though it’s a review of something that’s been around for six months.

Let’s take a look under the hood of the Spicy Chipotle Crispy Chicken.

As expected, there’s the orange-y chipotle sauce that shows up so often on “spicy chipotle” fast food items. A quick by-itself taste test reveals that it’s not as spicy or tangy as most. In fact, it appears that the main thing it brings to the party is “orange”. The chicken looks to be a standard, un-spicy pre-formed patty and the cheese is maybe white American or Swiss.

The real surprise is the jalapeños. Didn’t see that one coming. As a food item billed as “chipotle”, it’s supposed to get it’s spicy from a sauce or seasoning from dried, smoked jalapeños, not from fresh or pickled ones.

After tasting the sandwich, I can say that it’s a good thing they’re there. The chicken patty itself is fine, although you’d never mistake it for the vastly superior chicken of Chik-Fil-A. As expected, the sauce really didn’t add much spice, just kept the overall sandwich from being overly dry. Even in that function it didn’t do very well, since its application was a little sparse for my taste. The jalapeños, however, held up their end of the bargain and added a decent amount of bite. Much like the presence of Patrick Warburton in a substandard kiddie movie, they made a mediocre offering palatable, even mildly enjoyable.

Ok, time to look at the Spicy Chipotle Jr. Cheeseburger, which features the exact same ingredients, but with the weird square patty instead of the chicken.

After only one bite I finally, instantly understood why Wendy’s hamburger patties are square.

It’s a warning. Like the brilliant colors on a poison dart frog, it’s nature’s way of saying “Don’t Touch”. The meat had an unhealthy, “off” taste that seriously made me unable to even taste the jalapeños, let alone the bland chipotle sauce.

Shuddering at the memory, I cleansed my palate and moved on to the Natural-Cut French Fries with Sea Salt.

I’m not a big french-fry eater. I honestly think they’re an over-rated side, and that their success is mostly due to their portability and America’s love affair with salt and dipping food into other food.

However, I must say, these were some pretty tasty fries. The left-on skin gave them a hardier, more potato-y flavor than you usually get out of a fast food fry, and the use of sea salt instead of table salt was noticeable, if only slightly. Wendy’s got it about right on these.

In conclusion, I’ll say that the Spicy Chipotle Crispy Chicken is a fairly decent offering for a 99-cent value-meal item (even if it’s name is a lie) and the Natural-Cut French Fries with Sea Salt live up to their name. However, the Spicy Chipotle Jr. Cheeseburger is literally uneatable, due to the nasty-tasting beef that Wendy’s apparently uses. However, if you decide to try any of them, I recommend bringing along this if you actually want to taste anything that even vaguely resembles chipotle.

Spicy Chipotle Crispy Chicken Sandwich

  • Score: 3 out of 5 surprise jalapeños
  • Price: 99-cents
  • Size: 1 sandwich
  • Purchased at: Wendy’s, Fort Worth, Texas
  • Nutritional Quirks: Sauce apparently more ornamental than functional.

Spicy Chipotle Jr. Cheeseburger

  • Score: 1 out of 5 poisonous amphibians
  • Price: 99-cents
  • Size:1 burger
  • Purchased at: Wendy’s, Fort Worth, Texas
  • Nutritional Quirks: Square hamburger patties preferred by the geriatric.

Natural-Cut French Fries with Sea Salt

  • Score: 4 out of 5 Lot’s wives
  • Price: 99-cents
  • Size: 1 value-size container
  • Purchased at: Wendy’s, Fort Worth, Texas
  • Nutritional Quirks: Sprayed with sodium acid pyrophosphate, dusted with dextrose corn sugar and boiled in oil containing dimethylpolysiloxane.  Oh, and there’s presumably some sea salt in there somewhere.

Sonic Drive-In Ched R Pepper SuperSONIC Cheeseburger

I’m going to murder whoever designed Sonic’s website and hunt down every last relative of that person with a Bowie knife clenched between my perpetually gnashing teeth.

Perhaps that’s not the best way to start out a review, but it’s how I feel right now, after having attempted to do the bare minimum research on the product about which I will be talking. If I’m lucky, after ten minutes the home page for Sonic Drive-In’s website will load. If I’m unlucky, I get a server error page. I’m unlucky more than I’m lucky. C’mon, people, you’re a national fast food chain. Make a fucking website that works, for Christ’s sake.

Nerd rage aside, I was finally able to struggle through the steaming, fetid bog of Sonic’s site to find the information I needed. First, I wanted to write a statement along the lines of “I never saw a Sonic before I moved to Arizona; apparently, my home turf of Orange County thought itself too good to allow them.” I figured I’d fact check that last part before dozens of angry, well-tanned OC residents left outraged comments. It turns out that while my former comment remains true, there was a Sonic within two miles of the house I spent the first 22 years of my life living in. Apparently, I’m just a clueless, unobservant fuck.

That aside, I’ve now lived within THREE miles of a Sonic for the last six years of my life, and the only thing I’ve ever ordered from there was a SuperSONIC Breakfast Burrito (the only breakfast burrito I’ve ever found that could support itself as a decent food item when you order it without eggs) and a blue Powerade Slush. Both are great for hangovers, by the way. I’m sure the flavor of the slush is not actually “blue”, but really, you all know what I mean. Nobody actually identifies sports drinks by flavor. Yellow, blue, purple, orange. These are your choices.

All this blathering about NOT going to Sonic has a vague purpose, in that I’ve never actually had a Sonic burger. Until NOW. Sonic recently released a limited edition burger called the Ched R Pepper SuperSONIC Cheeseburger. I’d seen the commercial for them a few times and gave it a dismissive wave of the hand, figuring Sonic thinks they’ve reinvented the wheel by adding a little more cheese and maybe some jalapeños to whatever regular goddamn burger they’ve got on the menu. But then I saw the commercial again one day and something caught my eye, so much so that I had to rewind my DVR and pause it at this moment:

Holy shit, they put jalapeño poppers on a burger! More specifically, “Ched R Peppers”, which I didn’t even know were on Sonic’s menu, since they’re not listed on the website. First of all, what a fucking terrible name. Ched R Peppers? Really? Not even gonna, you know, maybe throw an apostrophe in there? Fuck Ched R Peppers. I reserve the right to call them poppers throughout the rest of this review.

Furthermore, on their official YouTube video of the commercial, they call it a “Cheddar Pepper Burger” several times. Even Sonic itself is embarrassed.

I was repulsed and intrigued at the same time. On the one hand, putting random snack food inside a burger is ridiculous. On the other hand, putting random snack food inside a burger is awesome, and I love ridiculous. So, I knew I had to try one.

First of all, the burger is MASSIVE. It’s also probably the messiest burger I’ve ever eaten, due, in part, to the bottom bun falling apart in my hands. Poor bottom bun, it just couldn’t handle the responsibility of two giant patties, AND a ridiculous amount of cheese, AND two Ched R Peppers. It was doomed from the start. Actually, I think the real problem there is that they put all the lettuce, tomatoes, dressing, and everything else underneath the meat and poppers. There’s probably a reason they’re usually on top.

Aw, look! There they are!

Epic battle with sliding toppings and chipotle mayo-covered hands aside, I quite liked the burger. The meat was superior to McDonald’s but probably wouldn’t hold up to In-N-Out’s standards. I’d give it a medium on the scale of rat meat patties to hand-grilled burgers at a barbeque. The cheese, well, the cheese was plentiful. Between the two thick slices on the burger and the cheese inside the poppers, ooey gooey goodness was everywhere. The chipotle mayo added a muted flavor and was pretty abundant, which was nice, except I think I licked more of it off of my hands than I actually ate inside the burger, once again due to the bottom bun rolling a crit fail. Bottom bun is Black Leaf.

I have to say, I was pleasantly surprised with how well the poppers played with the burger. The deep-fried breading on the poppers gave it a nice crunch, sort of like the way onion rings would, except on most burgers I’ve had with rings, the rings are so soggy that they deliver no crunch at all. Maybe that’s why the condiments were all on the bottom of this burger. Keeping the poppers dry preserved that crunch. So, both a good call and a bad call on Sonic’s part. You can’t win them all.

Actually, I just realized that there’s a burger on top already protecting the poppers, so putting the condiments on top wouldn’t have made a difference. It makes no sense. Ched R Peppers.

The jalapeños add their delicious flavor and a little bit of heat, but not as much as if you’d put a bunch of jalapeño slices on the burger. This could be because the fat in the cheese binds to the capsaicin molecules in the pepper, thus reducing their potency. SCIENCE!

Or it could be because Sonic buys milder jalapeños, because all fast food chains think Americans can’t handle actual spicy food. Whatever.

Sonic wins points for the Ched R Pepper SuperSONIC Cheeseburger being insa- uh, creative, but loses points for being poorly constructed, resulting in a burger you should never, ever eat in your car, on your way to an important interview. Then again, if you’re eating a cheeseburger on your way to an interview, you’re probably applying at Sonic Drive-In, so have at. I was pleasantly surprised at how well the poppers played with the burger, and I also liked how plentiful and complimentary the chipotle mayo was. The meat and the abundant cheese were also satisfying. Putting jalapeño poppers on a burger may seem ridiculous, but consider that they’ve been doing it in New Jersey for about 40 years, so maybe it isn’t so crazy, after all. As a matter of fact, I’d like other fast food chains to start stepping up their game and stuffing their burgers full of various kinds of bar food. It’d keep me in business for months!

  • Score: 3.5 out of 5 Fat Kokos (Don’t know what that means?  You’re the jerk who doesn’t click the links!)
  • Price: $4.69
  • Size: 1 burger (418 grams)
  • Purchased at: Sonic #3517
  • Nutritional Quirks: 1,899 milligrams of sodium.  Suck it, Double Down!

Doritos Late Night All-Nighter Cheeseburger Tortilla Chips

Doritos Late Night All-Nighter CheeseburgerI have to start out this review by saying that it would not have happened were it not for the courageous efforts of the man who mailed this bag of Doritos Late Night All-Nighter Cheeseburger Chips to me.  A friend of mine alerted me to this new flavor of Doritos, saying that his friend had recently consumed them.  Soon afterward, said friend emailed me, urging me to review them.  I was more than willing to do so; alas, due to my location, which gets no love from the test market homies, I was unable to procure this product.

All hope was not lost, however.  This friend-of-a-friend generously offered to mail me a bag, and so I gave my mailing address to a man that I had corresponded with via email exactly twice, relying on my friend’s word that he is a reputable member of society.  Don’t tell my mother; she’ll have a heart attack.

A box arrived in my mailbox soon after the email.  I have to mention that I am amused to no end at the image of a big city District Attorney, on his lunch break, resplendent in his pressed business suit, possibly with his DA ID tag still hanging off his lapel, going down to his local Post Office and declaring to the employee at the counter that yes, I am mailing a bag of Doritos Late Night All-Nighter Cheeseburger Tortilla Chips.  I’m sure it was one of the prouder moments in his life.  I thank you, good sir, for debasing yourself on my behalf.  Your efforts are greatly appreciated.

Doritos Late Night All-Nighter Cheeseburger Bag Front

Fortunately for me, the box did indeed contain a bag of chips, and not a decomposing severed head, or a bomb, or a decomposing severed head with a bomb in it.  That would have been a much more difficult review.   Maybe.  I haven’t actually tried the chips yet, so we’ll see.  We’ll also see if the bag contains actual chips and not just a mass of crumbs, due to its travel cross-country courtesy of the US Postal system.

I’ve commented on the insanity of Doritos’ marketing team before, and I’m sure that they will continue making bizarre products that will cause me to comment on it again.  However, in all fairness, I have to say that their Late Night line of chips was the impetus that finally motivated me to stop just talking about making Junk Food Betty and actually get it up and running.  You see, this is not the first Late Night offering.  Before All-Nighter Cheeseburger, there were two other offerings – Tacos at Midnight and Last Call Jalapeño Popper.  You can read a review of the former here and of the latter here.  I’d love to be able to link you to my own reviews of both of these chips, but back then, I was doing reviews on my sad little LiveJournal account, and I have too much pride to link you to that.  Suffice to say, writing about these two Late Night offerings finally convinced me that the world needed to see the insanity that is the junk food world, and LiveJournal was not the way to make that happen.  Thank you, Doritos, for being so insane.  You inspired me to make a real website that makes me spend money on ridiculous foods and brings in zero income.  Thanks.  Really.

Doritos’ press release for All-Nighter Cheeseburger actually sheds a little light on how the Late Night line was born.  “We’ve learned that snacking at night is important to our loyal consumers because they’re usually hungry after a night out with friends, and it serves as a key social occasion to relax and unwind with those friends…The trick was to find out what they were eating at night and then turn those foods into delicious Doritos flavors.”  This comes from the mouth of Associate Marketing Manager Julia Wells.

A well-worded explanation.  However, I think I can translate this comment into what really happened:

“Kids these days,” said some middle-aged white guy sitting in a meeting room full of other middle-aged white guys at 8am on a Monday, “Kids these days, they stay out all hours of the night, drinking their Jaegermeisters and their tequila, whooping and hollering and carrying on.  We need to find out what these drunken layabouts eat before they crash out on the bathroom floor at 4am, and we need to turn it into chips, and give it a hip name that will make them say, ‘Hey, these chips have a name that sounds like you should eat them when you’re drunk!  And the flavor sounds like things I eat when I’m drunk!  I need to buy these chips!’  That is what we need to do to bring in those no-good lushes.”

And so, Tacos at Midnight, Last Call Jalapeño Popper, and now, All-Nighter Cheeseburger were born.  I’m on tenterhooks waiting to see what they come up with next.  Let’s be honest, here; drunken college-aged kids will eat anything when they stagger home late at night.  I’d like to see some more realistic offerings in the future.  Here are just a few of my suggestions:

Late Night 24-Hour Diner Greasy Bacon and Eggs
Late Night Lost Pants Cold Can of Refried Beans with a Spoon
Late Night Sleeping Roommate Pizza That’s Been Sitting on the Stove for Three Days (although, to be fair, they already have that flavor in Collisions Pizza Cravers and Ranch)
Late Night Didn’t Score Improperly Microwaved Ramen

Doritos, if I see any of these flavors on grocery shelves in the future, I’m expecting some serious kickbacks from you guys!

Doritos Late Night All-Nighter Cheeseburger Bag Back

The night is calling, people, and you better answer the damn phone before it goes to voicemail, or else the night is going to be super pissed, because it knows you’re home, and it’s tired of you blowing it off to hang out with the daytime.  What’s so fun about daytime, anyways?  Ohhh, she’s got a sun, and the mall is open.  Big fucking deal.

Oh, no, wait, I read that wrong.  You’re supposed to satisfy your craving with these chips.  Phew, close call.  Anyway, I always obey the back of chip bags, so let’s get on with this.

Doritos Late Night All-Nighter Cheeseburger Chips

Hooray!  Lots of chips, not so many crumbs!  I had my doubts when I was handling the bag.  Way to pack, big city District Attorney!  If that whole prosecuting criminals thing falls through, you have a bright future at The UPS Store.

The flavor powder is pretty consistent with other Doritos; some get an over it, some are underflavored, but the majority have a fairly even coating.  The smell when you open the bag is overwhelmingly of ketchup and pasteurized processed cheese product.  Which is good coming from the angle of replicating a shitty burger bought at 2am, but not so great when you realize that these are chips.  Not a good chip smell.  Not good.

I forgot to mention earlier that this is not the first time Doritos has produced a cheeseburger-inspired chip.  In 2007, Doritos introduced the “X-13D Experiment”, another crazy-ass marketing gimmick wherein you have an “objective”.  The bag was simple and black, and had a little hint on the front that said “Tasting notes: All-American Classic”.  Basically, they were implementing the “guess the mystery flavor” trick.  On that other website I don’t like to talk about, I described them as tasting like “crappy McDonald’s hamburgers”.  Which is exactly what All-Nighter Cheeseburger chips smell like.  Will I be reliving that wonderful experience I had in 2007?

Answer: yes.  I have to say, they really did nail what a shitty cheeseburger tastes like.  As soon as you start chewing, there’s a bouqet of flavors assaulting you.  The ketchup hits first, then the crappy cheese, along with an unsettling meaty flavor that makes you seriously wonder what ingredients have been added that would give a tortilla chip the ability to taste “meaty”.  That’s just wrong.  There’s even an faint onion/pickle finish as you break the chip down.  How are they doing this?  There’s only one answer: Doritos has finally turned to the dark arts.  God help us all.

I gotta hand it to Doritos, black magic or no, they fucking nailed cheeseburger.  I don’t know how they did it, but it’s all there.  During some of the more destitute times of my life, I relied heavily on the $1 double cheeseburger from McDonald’s Value Menu in order to, well, not die.  I am intimately familiar with how that burger tastes, and this chip tastes like that hamburger.  I happen to appreciate the taste of McDonald’s shitty double cheeseburger, but I can see how other people would not.  There’s just something about that crappy, terrible burger that I really enjoy.  Now that I’m moderately less poor, I can afford bigger and better hamburgers for sustenance, but the shitty burger is still an occasional guilty pleasure.

So, you’re thinking to yourself, Junk Food Betty is all thumbs up on the Doritos Late Night All-Nighter Cheeseburger Chips, right?

Answer: no.  Here’s the long and short of it: just because you can make something, doesn’t always mean you should.  These chips are literally unsettling.  It’s like that scene in Alien Resurrection where Ridley comes upon that room with all those fucked-up clones of herself.  These chips are an abomination that never should have happened.  It’s not about tasting bad; it’s about tasting wrong.  Good for you, Doritos, you made a tortilla chip taste just like a cheeseburger.  Except now your creation is writhing around on the floor, its deformed  and contorted body leaving a trail of bloody mucus behind it as it struggles just to move, dragging its unnatural form pathetically as it cries out in a garbled voice, “kill me”.  Doritos Late Night All-Nighter Cheeseburger Tortilla Chips, you’re  making everyone very uncomfortable.

  • Score: 1.5 out of 5 decomposing severed heads with bombs inside
  • Price: Free!  I don’t know whether to thank big city District Attorney again or track him down via the return address on the box and beat him with a sock full of Doritos and batteries.
  • Size: 11 1/2 oz. bag
  • Purchased at: My mailbox
  • Nutritional Quirks: I could read the back of the bag and find out exactly what ingredients make a tortilla chips taste meaty, but I fear for my sanity.  Some things are better left unknown.

Note: Foodette Reviews also a review of All-Nighter Cheeseburger Doritos.  She favored them much more than I did.