All posts by Kelley

Fast Food

Quiznos Chicken Bacon Dipper

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Food News: McKFC Double Deuce Deluxe

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

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

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

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

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

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

Fast Food

Arby’s Angus Three Cheese & Bacon

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

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

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

LISA
Oh my gosh!

NELSON
That IS hungry.

LISA
REALLY hungry…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Chester’s Fries Chili Cheese Flavored Corn & Potato Snacks

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Food News: Taco Bell Crunchwrap Supreme for 88 Cents

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

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

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

Junk Food

Limited Edition (No More!) Retro Doritos Taco Flavor Tortilla Chips

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Confessions: Junk Food Betty Edition.

When I was around nine years old, I stole a pack of stickers from a Hallmark store. I don’t even remember what the stickers were; probably Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles or something. I have never told anyone about this before.

Oh, shit, wait – that was the wrong confession! Oh well; I’m pretty sure the statute of limitations has run out on that crime. What I meant to confess is that I’ve been putting off reviewing these Retro Doritos Taco Flavor because I never had the original Doritos Taco Flavor. The best I can do is treat it like any other product I review, offering my opinion on the flavor and leaving it at that. But after I read the comments on The Impulsive Buy’s news announcement, I became even more intimidated. It seems those who actually ate the original Taco Doritos are rather polarized; some say it tastes just like the original, and some are OUTRAGED at the fact that it does not.

Of course, all taste is subjective. Since I can’t give a comparison, I’d like to ask any JFB readers who have eaten both the original and retro Taco Doritos to leave a comment telling me what you think about the two. Also feel free to tell me I got the flavor profile all wrong. You know, whatever.

With that out of the way, let’s take a small exploration into the history of Taco Doritos. Introduced in 1967, it was the second flavor of Doritos to ever hit the streets. The first was Toasted Corn. That’s a pretty prestigious position to be in. Taco went away at some point, not sure when. In the 1990s, there was a flavor called Taco Bell Taco Supreme, which was later just called Taco, and then there was a Zesty Taco flavor in the Collisions line, but then there was also the Late Night line that had Tacos at Midnight, which apparently did not taste-

You know what, I’m basing all of this information off of Wikipedia, which, of course, you can’t cite as a source in your book report, so just read this and try to sort it all out. Long story short: lots of different taco flavors in Doritos throughout the years.

No matter what they taste like, I’m tempted to empty the bag and frame it. Doritos got me on the packaging; as part of the Nostalgia Generation, whenever I see something like this bag, I think back to my childhood, when my worst problems were making sure I didn’t miss Saved by the Bell and nagging my dad to put air in the tires of my Huffy bike. Simpler times, simpler packaging. I love it.

I find the taste of the chips simpler, too. Again, I never had the original (that I can remember), but these Doritos have a nice, clean flavor profile. I’ve never had a taco that didn’t contain some kind of meat before, but these chips have no meat flavor whatsoever, and for that I am grateful. 1967 – simpler times, when people didn’t have to worry about things that weren’t meat tasting like meat.

What it does taste like, however, is Doritos Nacho Cheese with hints of onion, garlic, and maybe a little tomato. That’s it. No crazy extra stuff, no weird aftertaste I can’t quite explain. Just a nice cheese chip with some pleasant complimentary flavors.

Given, that’s not really what a taco tastes like, and it’s not exactly a mind-blowing flavor, but I don’t care. I still like them, and have been shoving them in my mouth for almost this entire review, so that says something. I wasn’t alive in 1967, but maybe this was a mind-blowing flavor back then. Either way, I think it’s a solid chip. And I would hug the retro bag if it didn’t mean crushing all the chips.

Update: Since it took me so long to write this, Doritos has announced in their Snack Chat that Retro Taco Doritos will stay around for good! Now I can hug my bag, because I can just go get another one!

Update the second: As of me putting the finishing touches on this post, there has been TREACHERY! If you read the Snack Chat link in the first update, you will see that I was correct in saying Taco was the second Doritos flavor ever, and that it debuted in 1967. A few days ago, when I started this post, The Wikipedia link I posted reflected this fact. But look what the Wikipedia article says as of 12:37pm MST, 2/28/11: “The first flavor of Doritos was Toasted Corn followed by Nacho Cheese (known for a time as Nacho Cheesier) flavor was released in 1972 while Cool Ranch (known for a time as Cooler Ranch) flavor was released in 1986.”

THIS IS NOT TRUE! DO NOT BELIEVE WIKIPEDIA! BELIEVE SNACK CHAT! Just more proof that on Wikipedia, “any jackass could have written that”. And this is why Wikipedia isn’t allowed as a citation for book reports! Or my website, apparently!

  • Score: 4 out of 5 sombreros
  • Price: $3.29
  • Size: 12 oz. bag
  • Purchased at: Fry’s Foods
  • Nutritional Quirks: Despite being taco flavored, Doritos Taco does not taste like meat.  GOOD.
Junk Food

Fun Sweets Cotton Candy Teddy Bear Vanilla

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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?
Beverages

ChocoVine

14 Comments

Hey dudes, looking for something special to get your ladyfriend for Valentine’s Day? Maybe a box of chocolates, a nice bottle of red wine? Wouldn’t it be awesome if you could kill two birds with one stone? Then ChocoVine is the gift for you! Especially if you want your girlfriend to break up with you after she’s done vomiting. (Protip: hold her hair back like a gentleman.)

Maybe that’s not fair. Maybe ChocoVine will actually get you laid. We’ll just have to wait and see.

When something makes me do a literal double-take at the grocery store, I know that I must own it and probably write about it. Usually this fills me with dread and excitement, two emotions that really shouldn’t go together. Such was the case with ChocoVine. It was seated at the end of the wine aisle in a small display setup. When you see something that looks like Yoo-Hoo in a wine bottle, it’s impossible not to investigate further. And that I did.

The front of the bottle reads “The taste of dutch chocolate and fine red wine”. I don’t know whether to laugh or cry.

The back of the bottle has some interesting tidbits, also. First of all, it is encouraged that you shake it well, which is something I never thought I’d read on a wine bottle. Actually, I was surprised at how little chocolate sediment settled at the bottom of the bottle. The chocolate looks pretty evenly distributed. I don’t know if that’s a good sign or a bad sign.

It also advises, “Do not mix with acidic drinks!” Uh, isn’t red wine already acidic? I don’t understand!

When you go to ChocoVine’s website, the first thing you see is a black page with the words “You have to be 21 year [sic] old!” We’re off to a fine start.

There’s so much to quote from their website, so I’ll just let you read it for yourself. Here’s some choice quotes, in case you’re lazy:

“[Chocolate and wine] are also both incredibly complex and pairing them has always been a daunting process, often leading to dreadful results.”

I bet.

“The right chocolate paired with the perfect wine can create a near-orgasmic taste experience.”

I’ve had what I guess you could call near-orgasmic taste experiences before, but for $11.99 , I’m betting they didn’t exactly use the “perfect wine” and my vagina will not tingle with culinary pleasure.

“But the wrong wine opposite a too-sweet chocolate creates nothing but horror. Many have taken the challenge…and have failed.”

It’s like they’re setting me up. I don’t even need a punchline.

I have to be honest though, minus the typo on their website, there’s some other stuff on there that’s reaaaally trying to make me believe ChocoVine actually tastes good. It apparently won a gold medal from the Beverage Tasting Institute. I could take two seconds to see if this is actually a legit thing, but eh. There’s also a clip from some show on the Lifetime channel that almost made me die of boredom. The host acted like she was being paid to pretend to enjoy it, but she didn’t vomit and she kept a straight and cheery face as she drank it, so it can’t be that awful. Right? I mean, you can only suppress your gag reflex so much…right?

Okay ChocoVine, your website has done its job. I no longer expect to puke after my first sip of chocolate wine. Maybe my second, but probably not my first.

I feel I should insert a caveat here: I’m neither a chocolate snob nor a wine snob, so I’m not going to be talking about bouquets and woodsy vs. fruity and all that shit. I’m just a regular uneducated asshole and I will try to describe it to the best of my ability as a normal shlub.

First off, the smell. Scent? What do wine snobs call that? Whatever. Anyway, it smelled a lot like how it looks: Yoo-Hoo, except with an underlying tone of alcohol. It was a little disconcerting, because the smell of chocolate dominated about 80%, but then there was this alcohol finish that I would have expected to make me feel repulsed, like it had gone bad, but somehow the alcohol smell worked with the chocolate. It’s thicker than Yoo-Hoo or wine; it’s about the consistency of milk. It felt kind of weird, drinking such a thick liquid out of a wine glass.

I kind of hate to say it, but ChocoVine tastes…well, it tastes pretty good, actually. As with the smell, the chocolate dominated the flavor. I hate to keep using this analogy, but it really tasted similar to Yoo-Hoo, while having the consistency of chocolate milk. ChocoVine claims that it has the taste of dutch chocolate, but it tasted more like a chocolate analogue. Which is not unpleasant, but it lacked the depth of flavor of true chocolate. That said, it is rather rich, which is a good thing and a bad thing. I have a low tolerance for sweets, so I don’t think I could down more than what was in the glass pictured above before reaching my sweetness tolerance level.

As for the wine…again, I’m no wine connoisseur, but if I didn’t know it was red wine in there, I would have guessed it was a chocolate drink mixed with a little vodka. The booze flavor hit on the back end, but there was nothing wine-like about it. It just tasted like alcohol. Again, I would have expected that to be repulsive, but I enjoyed it. In reality, the mixing of chocolate and booze is not unusual at all. Since the explosion of flavor-infused vodkas (which I think has grown out of control), brands like Three Olives even make chocolate-infused vodkas. I’ve never had Three Olives Chocolate Vodka, but I’d imagine it tastes a lot like ChocoVine, except less viscous.

Okay, you got me, ChocoVine. You taste pretty damn good. I wouldn’t choose ChocoVine as an accompaniment to a meal, but it would make a nice dessert cocktail. I tend to prefer my liquors straight, but if you’re into chocolate and getting drunk, ChocoVine would be a fine choice. I would recommend serving it to your ladyfriend after a nice cozy dinner on Valentine’s Day. Ladies love chocolate, so serve her enough of it and you may just get lucky. I can almost guarantee she won’t puke – at least, not until the next morning.

  • Score: 3.5 out of 5 hair-holding gentlemen
  • Price: $11.99 (on sale; regularly $12.99)
  • Size: 750 ml
  • Purchased at: Albertson’s #980
  • Nutritional Quirks: “Ingredients: grape wine with artificial flavor, cream and artificial colors.”  Grape wine, that’s all you have to say? Also, the lack of chocolate in the ingredients is telling.  By the way, ChocoVine is 14% ABV.
Junk Food

Ruffles Loaded Chili & Cheese and Molten Hot Wings Potato Chips

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Ruffles are not one of Frito-Lay’s products that gets a lot of new family members. Doritos seem to fuck like rabbits, producing a new flavor every two seconds, and Cheetos get a lot of play, but Ruffles are just…Ruffles. Ridged and thicker than Lay’s, original Ruffles are the perfect chip for dipping. There’s a few flavors, like Authentic Barbecue and Sour Cream & Onion, but they’re pretty pedestrian. I do have to say, I love their Cheddar & Sour Cream. But generally, Ruffles have been one of the quietest of all the Frito-Lay children.

Until now! Ruffles has come out with not one, but two new Ruffles flavors, and I’m excited about both of them. Molten Hot Wings and Loaded Chili & Cheese? Hells yeah, sign me up for flavor country! I would have just been happy with Hot Wings, but these are Molten Hot Wings. Chili & Cheese gets my blood pumping (Fritos Chili Cheese chips rock), but these are Loaded Chili & Cheese. How are they loaded? Onions on top? Sour cream? Or just really drunk? It is a mystery, and I hope it’s a delicious one.

You might be thinking that Frito-Lay just up and decided to give Ruffles some love. But there’s an ulterior motive going on here. A sinister ulterior motive.

Okay it’s not that sinister. It’s just silly.

If you read Frito-Lay’s Snack Chat blog, and I know you don’t, you would know that there’s a theme going on here. Ruffles Molten Hot Wing and Loaded Chili & Cheese are being released with a buddy, Doritos Pizza Supreme. Are you seeing a theme here? Have you noticed that, on some recent Sundays, there’s suddenly the smell of grilling and the sound of yelling in the air? Did you perhaps wonder when church got so damn exciting? If so, you’re probably a nerd who doesn’t watch sports. This means you probably didn’t know the Super Bowl is happening this Sunday. A friend of mine called the Super Bowl a “football contest” today. I’m pretty sure he didn’t get the theme.

In other words, yes: Frito-Lay is trying to convince you that, instead of making (or ordering) real hot wings, chili cheese dip, and pizza for your big Super Bowl party, you should just lay out three big bowls full of these chips. Don’t take it from me, they pretty much lay it out like that in the blog: “The crunch of Ruffles Original with the bold, hearty flavors of chili cheese and hot wings. Who needs a meal when you’ve got these to snack on?”

I NEED A MEAL. If I were to go to someone’s Super Bowl party and see nothing but Ruffles laid out on the coffee table, I would overturn the table in a fit of rage, break a bottle of beer over it, and stab the party host in the face. Motherfucker trying to just feed me chips. I bet the beer is non-alcoholic, too. Bitch be trippin’.

Leaving behind any talk of food/chip substitutions and physical assault, let’s just see how they taste.

Loaded Chili and Cheese

After looking at the back of the bag, I now see what they mean by loaded: “You know that dream where all your favorite food is piled high and ready to go? It’s not a dream. It’s Ruffles Loaded Chili & Cheese Flavor. Chili? Check. Cheese? Heck yeah. Onions and peppers. Bingo. Now put all that on a chip. Pinch yourself, you’re really awake. Okay, now hit yourself. Oh well, it was worth a shot.”

I want to find the person that wrote this little gem. I’ve seen some pretty out there back-of-bag descriptions, but this one is just plain funny. First of all, I don’t think I’ve ever had that dream. And if I did have that dream, it would look more like a steak smothered in onion dip, artichoke dip, pesto and cheese sauce, bangers and mash, all topped off with a pickle. Somehow that doesn’t sound too appetizing.

By the way, I punched myself in the face after I finished reading the bag. I always obey the bag.

Unsurprisingly, Loaded Chili & Cheese Ruffles taste a hell of a lot like Chili Cheese Fritos. Heck, they probably just used the same flavor powder with some minor modifications. But you know what? I don’t care. I love Chili Cheese Fritos and I love Chili Cheese Ruffles. They don’t taste exactly the same, since Ruffles are potato chips and Fritos are corn chips, but it works either way.

If you’ve never had Chili Cheese Fritos before, let me explain the Ruffles for you. They basically taste like chili powder mixed with cheese powder. There’s also a little onion and garlic flavors thrown in there, too. The Ruffles do have some different ingredients than the Fritos, which results in a larger depth of flavor, particularly in the onion region. I couldn’t really taste any peppers, but that’s okay. I don’t really consider peppers to be a standard in chili cheese dip, but maybe that’s just me.

Loaded Chili & Cheese Ruffles get a thumbs up in my book. The chili flavor is pretty aggressive, which may not appeal to some pussies people, but I found it to be just right.

Molten Hot Wings

Let’s check out what kind of crazy is on the back of this bag! “You. Your buds. The game… What’s missing? One word, “Wings.” Dripping with sauce and ready to wash down with your favorite beverage(s). Wait, it gets better. It’s Ruffles Molten Hot Wings Flavor and it’s all on a chip. So now what’s missing? Two words, ‘personal cheerleaders.’ Dream big, chief.”

First of all, you’re not doing a very good job of selling these chips as a replacement for hot wings. “What’s missing? Meaty chicken wings covered in delicious sauce. You know what’s better? Eating potato chips.” Not exactly the same experience.  Most guys would choose meat over potato chips.

Speaking of guys, what kind of sexist fuck wrote this blurb? Personal cheerleaders? “Chief”? Don’t call me chief. I am a motherfucking lady, you punk-ass little bitch. How dare you assume that only guys are going to eat Molten Hot Wings? My outrage is palpable.

I wouldn’t mind some hot personal cheerleaders, however. The more vapid, the better! Honey I ain’t paying you to talk, I’m paying you to cheer me on every time I finish another beer. Or someone makes a touchdown or something. Whatever.

Given the picture on the bag and the whole “molten” angle, I expected these chips to be fire engine red. Not so much. Don’t be deceived, however; these chips pack a surprising punch. They’re pretty fierce, but in a buffalo sauce sort of way more than say, a jalapeño spicy sort of way. My mouth puckered. That signature vinegar component of buffalo sauce is definitely there.

There was an underlying flavor that I had trouble identifying, until it finally hit me: chicken. Son of a- I’M TIRED OF BEING AMBUSHED BY MEAT-FLAVORED CHIPS! DAMN YOU AND YOUR FLAVOR SORCERY, FRITO-LAY!

Honestly though, once I got done shaking my fist in the air and yelling at a snack food manufacturer while standing alone in the middle of my kitchen, I gave them a second try and really didn’t find the chicken undertone all that bad. I would say it’s the least disturbing of all the meat-flavored chips I’ve tried. Molten Hot Wings Ruffles would hit it off pretty well with some ranch dip. While not exactly molten, they do pack some heat, and I’ll forgive Ruffles just for using the word “molten”. I’m a big fan of creative adjectives in snack foods. And it sure as hell beats “XTREME”.

I’m glad to see Ruffles getting more flavors. Fortunately, I actually enjoyed both Loaded Chili & Cheese and Molten Hot Wings, even though the former seems to just be a slightly different iteration of Chili Cheese Fritos and the latter has an undertone of…chicken. I’d still cut a bitch if I went to a Super Bowl party and all they had was Ruffles, but the cuts would require less stitches. I’d even leave some chips for them after they got back from the hospital.

(Note: Brand Eating also reviewed Ruffles Loaded Chili & Cheese Potato Chips and The Impulsive Buy reviewed both of them.)

Ruffle Loaded Chili & Cheese Potato Chips

  • Score: 4 out of 5 sexy food dreams
  • Price: $0.99
  • Size: 1 7/8 oz. bag
  • Purchased at: Fry’s Foods
  • Nutritional Quirks: Contains red and green bell pepper powder, even though I couldn’t taste it. I’ve never seen bell pepper powder before. More Frito-Lay sorcery!

Ruffles Molten Hot Wings Potato Chips

  • Score: 3.5 out of 5 personal cheerleaders
  • Price: $0.99
  • Size: 1 7/8 oz. bag
  • Purchased at: Fry’s Foods
  • Nutritional Quirks: Contains chicken fat, chicken broth and chicken powder. Chicken powder sounds ominous, but is probably just bullion. I’m a little disturbed that my potato chips have chicken fat in them, though.
Fast Food

McDonald’s Chipotle BBQ Bacon Angus

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McDonald’s has already introduced three other Angus burgers, and I have somehow managed to skip out on all of them. That’s about to change, because they’ve just launched a fourth one, the Chipotle BBQ Bacon Angus, and I have it in my hungry little hands.

From the mouth of Ronald McDonald and his marketing team, “Make time for the bold taste of a third-pound* 100% Angus beef smothered in sensationally sweet ‘n smoky Chipotle BBQ sauce, kicked up with crisp red onions, sliced pickles and two slices of American cheese, all on a toasted sesame seed bun.”

For the sake of full disclosure, the asterisk leads to this message: “*weight before cooking at least 5.33 oz (151.1 gms). At participating McDonald’s.” Valuable information I’m sure you wanted to know.

I love chipotle. Chipotle is really hot right now (har har), which usually annoys me, because once a flavor gets hot it sneaks itself into every food possible. I wouldn’t be surprised to see pomegranates on top of a hamburger at some point, since pomegranate is so in at the moment. I imagine marketing departments scrambling around, trying to figure out how to incorporate the latest fad flavor into every single item on the menu.

I just realized something. Fast food is a lot like fashion. That’s creepy.

Anyway, I can’t fault McDonald’s for putting chipotle on a hamburger. My husband has been using chipotle in his hamburgers for years. Chipotle and meat go together great. I’m glad to see they’re finally dating publicly. I even saw chipotle wearing hamburger’s Letterman’s jacket in home room the other day. They seemed happy together.

Let’s start with the good: McDonald’s Chipotle BBQ Bacon Angus is hefty. The Angus beef patty was large, juicy and flavorful, which was a surprise to me, compared to a regular McDonald’s burger. The Angus really steps it up on quality and flavor. Also, the red onions were fresh and added a good crunch.

Sadly, those are about the only good things I can say about this burger. The BBQ sauce was okay, but there was nothing chipotle about it. Chipotle has a very distinct flavor – spicy, smokey goodness – and I worked hard, but just could not find it. Sure, there was some smokiness, but it was the kind that comes with BBQ sauce, not chipotle. If you’d blindfolded me and handed me the burger and asked me to describe it, I would have said it’s a burger with BBQ sauce on it. The word chipotle would have never passed my lips.

Actually, I would have said it’s a BBQ burger with Limp Bacon Syndrome. The bacon was plentiful, but it was the same sad little floppy strips you usually come across. I’ll revise my blindfolded evaluation one more time: I would have said it’s a BBQ burger with Limp Bacon Syndrome and a strangely overwhelming amount of pickles. Yes, that’s right – the pickles. They were the most prominent flavor on the burger. I thought maybe it was just a fluke, so I asked my husband, who had also ordered a Chipotle BBQ Bacon Angus. He said he had been thinking the exact same thing. I didn’t count the amount of pickles on the burger, but I should have. Perhaps it had the standard amount of pickles and they just didn’t jive with the sauce, which made their flavor stand out. I don’t know what it was. All I know is pickles, pickles everywhere. I don’t think I’ve ever had such a pickle problem with a burger before, but there you have it.

I was really disappointed in McDonald’s Chipotle BBQ Bacon Angus. I loved the hamburger patty and will probably try one of the three other Angus burgers as a result, but when you have something in the name that is impossible to detect (at least to me), sad bacon on what is supposed to be a high(er)-quality burger, and strangely overpowering pickles, you don’t have a successful burger concept. Especially not for the price. I expected good things from the Chipotle BBQ Bacon Angus, and I didn’t get what I wanted. I have to end this review now, because I have to go McDonald’s and throw an inappropriate tantrum in the middle of their restaurant.

(Note: The Impulsive Buy, GrubGrade, We Rate Stuff and An Immovable Feast also reviewed this burger.)

  • Score: 2 out of 5 so many pickles
  • Price: $3.99
  • Size: At least 5.33 oz. before cooking
  • Purchased at: McDonald’s #1[number didn’t print on receipt]427
  • Nutritional Quirks: Pickles provide 10 mg of calcium.  Who knew?