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Junk Food

Deano’s Jalapeño Real Sliced Chips Sea Salt, Cheddar and Ranch

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A little while ago, I got an email from someone named Doehne Duckworth offering to send me some free samples to review.

That was it. No product name, no pictures. Just two sentences. Mysterious.

Thankfully, Mr. Duckworth (whose name immediately invokes childhood memories of Scrooge McDuck swimming in a pile of gold coins) had an email address that Google led me to his product’s website: Deano’s Jalapeños. (Editor’s note: since the writing of this post, Deano’s Jalapeño’s website has gone down for remodeling. Consider this an archive of the beauty that it was before remodeling!)

I was met by fire gifs running down the side of the home page, which is always a sign of awesome. I was also met by the headline, “The Newest and Most UniqueSnack Food Available in the Universe”.

Fire gifs and typos. Red flags for most websites, but I’ve learned to take these things in stride when it comes to most small business’s sites, especially when it comes to the food industry. If I’d judged every local restaurant by their poorly-constructed website, I would have missed out on some of the most delicious food in my area. They’re doing the best they can, and sometimes that means asking your nephew to set up your website.

Plus, I could not ignore the brazen claim of being the newest and most unique snack food available in the universe. Not just the country, or even the world. The universe. Eat your heart out, Curiosity rover. Whatever you wind up finding on Mars, it won’t be anything like Deano’s Jalapeño Chips. Deano knows this.

I still didn’t really understand what these chips were, though. At first glance, it doesn’t sound that new or unique at all. Jalapeño chips? Welcome to the rest of the snack aisle, Mr. Duckworth.

But as I read on, I discovered that Deano was on to something different. To quote their website, “…everyone was trying to make their potato chips taste like jalapenos. Why not just use a real jalapeno!”

Why not, indeed! To explain a little further: “The award-winning flavor of Deano’s Jalapenos comes from the fact that there are no potatoes involved. Instead, this handcrafted snack is made from fresh jalapeno peppers that are sliced paper thin, kettle fried to a spicy crisp, and given a dusting of sharp cheddar, ranch or sea salt. It’s a snack that packs a late-hitting heat with a warm, salty flavor that becomes just a little addictive.”

Fresh, fried jalapeños? I was sold. And just a few days later, I had a lovely little package in my mailbox. To my delight, this included one package of each flavor. Here we go!

Deano’s Jalapeño Real Sliced Chips Sea Salt

I like the package design, in terms of both aesthetics and practicality. First off, Deano has chosen to go the pouch route with a tear-off resealable top. The use of the resealable top in the snack world strikes me as fairly recent; off the top of my head, it seems most popular with things like beef jerky and…well, beef jerky is all I can think of right now.

I’ve only encountered one line of chips that employs the resealable top, and the first time I saw it, I thought, why isn’t every chip manufacturer doing this? The only answer I could think of is that they’re in with Big Chip Clip. It’s like cans that haven’t yet employed pull-tab top technology – I now get irritated any time I have to use a can opener, and it’s not just because I’m left-handed.

Deano’s is a small company, however, and they don’t kowtow to Chip Clips. Thus, the glorious resealable pouch.

Each of Deano’s three varieties of chips has a different design that ties in with the flavor. With Sea Salt, we are transported to a tropical island, complete with palm tree, waves, seagulls, and a wooden surfboard.

I want to lounge on a beach while my Deano’s Jalapeño Real Sliced Chips Sea Salt are served with a Mai Tai by a hunky shirtless man who does not speak English.

I wasn’t sure what to expect when I opened the bag. I had no idea what actual fried, sliced jalapeño chips would look like. Now that I’ve seen them? Well, they aren’t exactly pretty, but they do look pretty authentico.

Upon first glance, it was obvious that these are, indeed, real jalapeños, that have, indeed, been fried, and have also, indeed, been covered in sea salt. Truth in advertising, this is.

Deano’s Jalapeño Chips can rival any other chip in the crunch category, thanks to being fried, and they are also deliciously salty, thanks to the giant chunks of sea salt visible on each piece. Unfortunately, I had a lot less slices and a lot more broken pieces, which could have been due to shipping, but it also gave it the odd appearance of looking like fried seaweed.

While the salt and crunch were excellent, I struggled to find the true taste of the jalapeño pepper inside the chip. Oh, don’t get me wrong; Deano’s brought the heat. That part was unmistakable, and kept building as I ate, until I was wishing for that Mai Tai.

However, part of the reason I love fresh jalapeños is their flavor, and I had a hard time finding it here. Maybe it was the frying process. Maybe the heat overwhelmed it. But the true taste of the pepper got a little lost somewhere. While that was disappointing, I still found myself tossing these crunchy little critters in my mouth, even as that genuine pepper heat started to make my nose run. Snot just adds to the flavor!

Deano’s Jalapeño Real Sliced Chips Cheddar

Deano’s took a mildly different turn on their Cheddar Jalapeño Chip packaging. Added are the phrases “try a slice of spice” and “made in Vermont”, which should inspire confidence, because when I think spicy peppers, I think…Vermont.

Cheddar’s packaging has the standard Deano’s logo, but varies from Sea Salt in ways I find, frankly, confusing. Gone is the surfer/beach theme, now replaced with…flames? I don’t know what cheddar has to do with flames. They’re still jalapeño chips, which means they’re all hot, right? And what’s with the generic green tattered-edge cheddar logo? That would have been a good place to stick a cheese wedge or something.

I want to be surrounded by kokopellis and  cute little gecko lizards while I eat Deano’s Jalapeño Real Sliced Chips Cheddar. A man wearing a sombrero and poncho should bring me a margarita.

More slices and less broken pieces in this one. Also, a familiar friend – neon orange flavor powder!

Having eaten pretty much every one of Frito-Lay’s 2,000 “cheese plus spicy flavored” chip iterations, I was curious to see how Jalapeño Real Sliced Chips would compare. I was pleasantly surprised to find that the cheddar flavor tasted more like actual cheese than your run-of-the-mill cheese-flavored chips.

The spicy heat was present, just like with the Sea Salt variety, but I actually found more of the jalapeño pepper flavor itself present in in Cheddar chips. I have no idea why, but it was there, and it was welcome. The pepper flavor, the heat and the cheddar all worked in unison to create a delicious crunchy snack.

Deano’s Jalapeño Real Sliced Chips Ranch

Let’s call Deano’s Cheddar packaging a misstep, because Ranch brings it back around. Here we have a beautiful sunset as a backdrop to some cacti and desert brush. The flavor is announced on a perfectly appropriate wooden sign that is askew, because every ranch sign should be askew. And check out that jalapeño – it’s been lassoed. Yee-haw!

I want a dude to ride up on his horse and pull me up onto the saddle as a woman in a pearl-studded cowboy shirt rings a triangle, letting us know it’s time to eat some Deano’s Jalapeño Real Sliced Chips Ranch. I would also like to be served a mug shaped like a cowboy boot containing some Shiner Bock to compliment my chips.

The Ranch Jalapeño Chips looked remarkably similar to the Sea Salt variety; there was no dusting of little red and green flecks that I generally associate with ranch-flavored chips.

At first glance, I attributed this to Deano’s being a smaller company that used more “authentic” means of flavoring. Don’t ask me what authentic ranch flavor powder consists of; I was just giving them the benefit of the doubt.

Unfortunately, it seems that the ranch flavoring was hard to find because it wasn’t really there in the first place. I caught a bit of the familiar tanginess of typical ranch chip flavoring as an aftertaste, but for the most part, Deano’s Ranch Jalapeño Chips suffered the same problems as Sea Salt – nice heat, but little pepper flavor. At least with the Sea Salt variety you got a lot of saltiness to go with your heat; with Ranch, it was mostly just crunch and spice, through and through.

I had high hopes for Deano’s Jalapeño Real Sliced Chips. In the end, there were ups and downs. If you want to compare them to regular chips that claim to be spicy, Deano’s definitely wins. They’ve also got a great crunch to them. Out of the three varieties, I enjoyed the Cheddar the most, but the other two fell short on delivering the true flavor of jalapeño, and while the Sea Salt was, indeed, salty, the Ranch chips couldn’t bring the flavor.

Despite some their shortcomings, I still found myself liking Deano’s Jalapeño Real Sliced Chips in general. They are, indeed, quite the unique snack. You’re going to look way cooler eating a bag of Deano’s than a regular ol’ bag of Doritos. Even if looks like you’re eating fried seaweed while snot runs down your face.

(Editor’s Note: Deano’s Jalapeño Real Sliced Chips were provided for free courtesy of Deano’s Jalapeños. Thanks, Mr. Duckworth!)

Deano’s Jalapeño Real Sliced Chips Sea Salt, Cheddar and Ranch

  • Score (Sea Salt): 3 out of 5 people who think you’re eating fried seaweed
  • Score (Cheddar): 4 out of 5 missed cheese wedge opportunities
  • Score (Ranch): 2.5 out of 5 cowbells
  • Price: Free!
  • Size: 2.25 oz. bags/pouches
  • Purchased at: Received in the mail for free, but once Deano’s Jalapeños website comes back up, you should be able to purchase them there.
  • Nutritional Quirks: Real fried jalapeño slices. Beat that, Doritos! Also, the Ranch variety contains parsley. Parsley…ranch?
Junk Food

Disney Deliciously Wicked Gourmet Candy Corn Candied Apple and Blackberry Magic

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I’ve mentioned before that my mom sends me care packs full of goodies for pretty much every holiday. Yes, I am a grown woman, but that doesn’t make it any less awesome.

She always seems to have a little surprise up her sleeve, too. Nestled amongst every candy bar you could name morphed into a pumpkin, these lovely gems arrived: Disney Deliciously Wicked Gourmet Candy Corn.

I know, I know. Candy corn. Candy corn that claims to be gourmet, at that. But this ain’t no pound of Brach’s, we’re talking about here.

There are six products in Disney’s Deliciously Wicked line of candy. First off, “Deliciously Wicked” is a wonderful moniker. Second, each of the six gets its own evil Disney villainess to represent it.

I only have two, but they’re all so lovely that I felt they all deserved mention. Here are the other four: The Evil Queen’s Sour Green Apple Saltwater Taffy, Maleficent’s Fiery Cinnamon Saltwater Taffy, The Evil Queen’s Pumpkin Spice Candy Corn and Cruella de Vil’s Red Velvet Cake Saltwater Taffy. Check out this site to view them all in their lovely glory. Always glad to see Maleficent getting some love.

While I would have liked to sample some taffy, I’m happy with what I’ve got. My mom must have psychically known I was tired of seeing pumpkin-spice flavored candy, so she picked the other two candy corn flavors. Let’s check out what we’ve got, here!

Disney Deliciously Wicked Gourmet Candy Corn Candied Apple

Say what you will about Disney; for all their faults, they know how to make some motherfucking product packaging. Glossy box, beautiful fonts, cohesive design, and no lack of detail. It’s little touches like this on the back of the box that make such packaging so complete:

In case you’re just now breaking Amish or whatever, that really pissed-off lady on the front of the box is the Queen of Hearts from Alice in Wonderland.

As you can see, she’s quite the angry bitch. I won’t give you the whole background on her, assuming you have Google on your Internet, but they’ve captured the essence of her quite aptly on the package. You think you’ve got a sadistic boss? Feel lucky you didn’t accidentally plant some white roses instead of red ones. The Queen of hearts is very fond of decapitation, and I imagine this package captures her mid-screaming, “Off with their heads!”

What do caramel apples have to do with the Queen of Hearts? At first, I couldn’t really find a connection, but then I realized, hey – caramel apples – apples impaled on sticks – decapitated heads on sticks!

I have no idea if this was Disney’s intention, but I’m going with it.

Even less intentionally, quite a few of my Candied Apple Candy Corns seemed to be missing their heads, but that happens when you’ve got a candy with a thick base and a pointy end. The color scheme of the candy itself was very apt and self-explanatory; brown caramel base, bright red apple middle, and the classic candy corn white tip.

Despite their cuteness, my first whiff was not encouraging. The Queen’s Corn smelled like a caramel apple candy that had been stored inside a plastic ALF mask since 1987. One that a kid was so enamored with that he wore it and refused to take it off for two weeks before Halloween actually arrived. Not an encouraging introduction.

The taste was unfortunately much the same. Of course, most of candy corn is sugar, so that was definitely present, but the caramel and apple flavors were both off and overwhelmed by that plasticky taste. Out of what little I could taste of the intended flavors, the caramel was “eh”, but the apple was straight-up chemical-tasting and fake.

I demand the head of whomever created the flavors of Caramel Apple Candy Corn!

Disney Deliciously Wicked Gourmet Candy Corn Blackberry Magic

Another lovely rendering of a classic Disney villain. Quick look at her symbol on the back of the box:

“Aw, it’s an adorably rendered international symbol of poison, positioned right above the opening of a box full of candy! Nothing wrong with that!”

If you just escaped from a commune of Luddites, Disney helpfully lets you know that this is Ursula from The Little Mermaid.

The Little Mermaid is the very first movie I can remember seeing in a movie theatre. I was rather young, but I don’t recall being very scared of Ursula, despite her large and intimidating presence. Perhaps that’s because, in addition to being a scary mersoul-trapper, she was also sassy. It’s hard to be afraid of a fat lady with tentacles instead of legs when she’s singing catchy songs.

I’m pretty sure she’s also the only being with tentacles besides Cthulhu that doesn’t immediately make me think of horrible hentai. That’s a serious compliment, Ursula.

Again, lovely design on the box, and the portrayal of Ursula shows that she is both evil and totally embracing her obese sauciness. Girl knows she owns it.

These are “Blackberry Magic” candy corns, which is a pretty solid connection, since Ursula does employ what you could call black magic, and it gives Disney the perfect excuse to make a lovely Ursula-color-themed candy corn.

My camera apparently hates the color indigo, but this is a fair enough approximation of the color scheme. They couldn’t be more perfectly tailored for Ursula: deep purple base for her tentacles, a lighter indigo for her torso, and even the white tip fits with her hair! I feel like I should display them in my living room rather than eat them.

Sadly, my nose also agrees with this first impression. Blackberry Magicorns smelled like a Glade “approximation of berry” air freshener that had just been installed in a newly sanitized bathroom.

Ursula’s Corns fared a little better than the Queen’s upon tasting, but not by much. There actually was something of an approximation of blackberry flavor in there, but once again, it had to play second fiddle to the inescapable taste of chemical plastic. Ursula needs to go back to her cauldron and rethink this particular dark magic spell.

Disney is one of the masters of creating polished packaging, and these Deliciously Wicked Candy Corns are no exception. I wish I’d never opened the boxes and instead just set them on a shelf to admire the artistry and the fun candy corn colors.

Unfortunately, my job is to actually taste things, and that’s where these candy corns go wrong. The Queen of Hearts’s Candied Apple tasted like plastic upon bad caramel upon chemical apple, and Ursula’s Blackberry Magic tasted like plastic upon some approximation of blackberry that came somewhat close to succeeding, but failed again in the chemical territory.

As I’ve said before, I give big points to Halloween packaging, which I definitely have to factor into my score. Sadly, the R&D taste development department didn’t have the same luck as the marketing department, and therein lies the downfall of these candy corns, which taste anything but gourmet.

At least for a few days, the Queen and Ursula will be placed where they rightfully should be: on my shelf of Halloween decorations that are inedible.

Disney Deliciously Wicked Gourmet Candy Corn Candied Apple and Blackberry Magic

  • Score (The Queen of Hearts’s Candied Apple): 2 out of 5 decapitated heads on stakes
  • Score (Ursula’s Blackberry Magic): 3 out of 5 squirming tentacles
  • Price: Free!
  • Size: 9 oz. box
  • Purchased at: Somewhere in California
  • Nutritional Quirks: Made mostly of sugar and corn syrup, but it’s the artificial flavoring that spooks me.
Junk Food

Limited Edition Candy Corn flavor creme Artificially Flavored Oreo

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It’s only mid-September, so you may be wondering why I’m reviewing a candy corn-flavored cookie. Well, first of all, mid-September is Halloween time. I don’t care what you say; from now until October 31st, I will submerge myself in as many ghosts, ghouls, bats, witches, zombies and fake blood as I can, and I will do it with no apologies.

Second, the Internet seems to have exploded with Candy Corn Oreo mania. Why? I have no idea. As we continue to descend into oddly-flavored snack food madness, Candy Corn Oreos seem like a rather mundane thing to get crazy about. But hey, I go where the Internet goes. And here we are.

I’ve been calling them Candy Corn Oreos, but their official moniker is Limited Edition Candy Corn flavor creme Oreos. This irritates me for two completely trivial reasons. Shouldn’t that be “flavored creme”? And why is it spelled “creme” instead of “cream”? Is there a difference? I can’t seem to find one, beyond using French spelling to look fancy. You are Candy Corn Oreos. You are not fancy. You have flavored cream.

Actually, wait, the official official name is Limited Edition Candy Corn flavor creme Artificially Flavored Oreos. So maybe they didn’t want to have two “flavored”s in one…eh, I give up.

I know, I know. I’m being nitpicky. I think I’m just cranky because I’m all out of candy corn-related material. When I reviewed Candy Corn Dots, I noted that people either love or hate candy corn. A year later, I reviewed M&M’s White Chocolate Candy Corn, wherein I made the same observation, and also linked to the same Lewis Black skit on candy corn, in which he is much funnier than I am anyways, because he’s Lewis Black.

Please, everyone: stop making things that are supposed to taste like candy corn. For my sake. I’m starting to look like a schlub at open mic night over here, sweating and pulling at my shirt collar. Even the drunks are getting tired of my old material, and they’re already blacked out.

Well, let’s get this over with, then.

Jesus Christ, Nabisco, you are giving me no breaks, here. Look at this minimalist packaging. “Hey, here’s a cookie, and some CG candy corns of varying sizes, in case you did not understand that these are Candy Corn Oreos.”

Actually, the more I stare at it, I like the way the candy corns increase in size, giving the illusion that they are coming closer and closer to you. That big guy in front looks like he’s about ready to jump right off the package and fuck my shit up. The cookie and the Oreo logo can barely contain him. He’s all like, “Hold me back bro, hold me back!” I bet he wouldn’t even know what to do with himself if they let him go. All the candy corns in the background are just rolling their eyes. “Ugh, Gary does this every time he drinks.”

Upon opening the package, I was assaulted not by Gary, but by the overwhelming smell of sugar. I literally did one of those “whoah, back that shit up” moves, like when you sniff a carton of expired milk, except less gross and more “I think I just got a cavity through my olfactory senses”.

Heh. It looks like a candy corn butt.

I’d go on another inappropriate rant about how the white tip of candy corn is not properly represented, but I guess you could say the Golden Oreo cookies themselves serve that function. You slid by on a technicality, Nabisco.

What’s more important here is that the flavor of the candy corn is not properly represented. I tried, I really did. I ate like, four cookies. I licked the cream – er, creme. If I tried really hard, I thought I could maybe taste some residual candy corn flavor, but mostly it was typical sweet vanilla-ish Oreo frosting and Golden Oreo cookie.

My husband swore he could taste the candy corn, but try as I might, I just wasn’t getting it. And you know what? I’m pretty okay with that, because I think I’d rather have a regular Golden Oreo than a candy-corn flavored Oreo.

I appreciate the efforts of any snack company that makes special seasonal products, but if you’re going to put out some Limited Edition Candy Corn flavor creme Artificially Flavored Oreos, they should probably taste like candy corn. These Oreos won’t go to waste, but I also won’t feel much Halloweenier eating them, which means they’ve missed their mark. Maybe I’ll dunk them in a nice, tall glass of fake blood to get more into the Halloween spirit.

Spirit? Get it? I hope so because I’m going to use that joke about 50 more times before Halloween is over. Enjoy!

Limited Edition Candy Corn flavor creme Artificially Flavored Oreo

  • Score: 3 out of 5 candy corn butts
  • Price: $2.99
  • Size: 10.5 oz. package
  • Purchased at: Target (exclusive)
  • Nutritional Quirks: Does not taste like candy corn, but you’ll still get a hearty helping of sugar!

Dinosaur Dracula, GrubGrade and The Impulsive Buy also reviewed these cookies.

Fast Food

Taco Bell Cantina Bowl

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They did it.  They finally did it.  After years of jokes about Taco Bell just reusing the same half-dozen ingredients to create new menu items, The Bell flipped the bird in your face, teamed up with chef Lorena Garcia, and made a whole new line of products called the Taco Bell Cantina.
I bet you feel ashamed for making fun of them now, don’t you?

We’ve got a lot of ground to cover here, so let’s start with this mysterious chef Lorena Garcia. Who is she? What are her credentials? Let’s play Internet P.I.

First of all, she has no Wikipedia page. This immediately sets off red alarms. As far as I’m concerned, if it doesn’t have a Wikipedia page, it either doesn’t exist or isn’t worth mentioning.

Junk Food Betty notwithstanding, of course.

That said, she does have some credentials, if you could call them that. She was on season four of Top Chef Masters. She did not win. She is on the current season of Top Chef Masters. Results TBD. She was a judge on America’s Next Great Restaurant. It was canceled after the first season due to low ratings. She has a website. She owns? Is executive chef of? Lorena Garcia Cocina restaurant. It is located in the Miami Airport. Concourse D.

No word on how many Michelin stars it has received.

Speaking of Top Chef Masters, here’s a fun little tidbit: during both the first and second episodes (the only episodes that have aired as of this post), Bravo aired Taco Bell Cantina commercials that focused heavily on chef Garcia. Hmmm. The show also airs this fine-print disclaimer at the end of every episode: “Winning and elimination decisions were made by the Judges in consultation with the Producers. Some elimination decisions were discussed with Bravo.”

I’m not saying there’s a conspiracy here or anything. Just…pointing that out.

Ooooookay, so we know who we’re working with, here. Now let’s see what we’re working with.

Working off the Taco Bell press release, chef Garcia worked with Taco Bell’s food innovators to come up with 26 new recipes, which they then narrowed down to 8.

These aren’t just eight new “recipes” using the same ol’ Taco Bell ingredients, however. These are eight new recipes using eight new ingredients.

The ingredients: “Whole black beans, cilantro rice, 100-percent all-white meat chicken in a citrus and herb marinade, guacamole made with 100-percent Hass avocado, fire-roasted corn salsa, creamy cilantro dressing, romaine lettuce and pico de gallo.”

Well, those certainly are a departure from Taco Bell’s current ingredients! That sounds sarcastic, but I’m actually serious. Minus the pico de gallo, which sounds rather similar to Taco Bell’s Fresco Menu’s “fiesta salsa”, these are all brand new and sound very promising.

The recipes: Cantina Bowl, Cantina Burrito, chips and guacamole, chips and roasted corn & pepper salsa, chips and pico de gallo, and cilantro rice topped with black beans.

I’m no math major, but I only count six new menu options there. To indulge Taco Bell, however, I’ll count their chips as a “new recipe”, since they are prepared in-store daily (which they presumably were not before), and count the rice and beans as two separate recipes. Okay, there. That makes eight.

Reviewing all eight new items would make for a lengthy review, and my verbosity is already embarrassing enough as it is. Thankfully, Taco Bell has made it easy for me – they’ve stuffed pretty much every new item into their Cantina Bowl. The official description: “Experience our new citrus-herb marinated chicken, flavorful black beans, guacamole made from real Hass avocados, roasted corn & pepper salsa, a creamy cilantro dressing, and freshly-prepared pico de gallo, all served on a bed of cilantro rice. Also available in Steak or Veggie.”

Wow, that’s a lot of…everything Cantina. I don’t know whether to thank Taco Bell for making my job easier, or curse them for having to go through an excavation journey to unearth, photograph, and taste each of these unique individual items.

If you’re wondering about the Cantina Burrito, just take everything I say about the Cantina Bowl and dump it into a tortilla. Seriously. It’s the exact same stuff, but instead of using a fork, you can eat it while you drive, dumping creamy cilantro dressing on your crotch, which will make for an awkward situation when you’re talking to the cops after getting into a fender bender while picking corn and beans off the front of your shirt. “Officer, it’s creamy cilantro dressing, I swear! …No, that is not a euphemism!”

Here we have the bowl, in all its seven-new-ingredients glory. Actually, make that eight? While Taco Bell’s description of the Cantina Bowl makes no mention of lettuce, it is obviously present, luring you into thinking you might actually be eating a salad. The most crowded salad in the history of salads.

This, however, is no salad. ‘Tis a bowl. My bowl was handed to me at the drive-thru by a man with a large bandage on his finger, covered by a plastic glove. Apparently he was not competent enough to cut tortillas into triangles for their in-house tortilla chips.

Well, he didn’t do much better at the drive-thru, as my Cantina Bowl was sideways in the bag he handed to me, and the lid was also not secured, resulting in some of my citrus-herb marinated chicken spilling into the bag and everything shifting sideways. I shook the bowl back into place and put the chicken back in when I got home, giving no fucks that it had touched the probably-unsanitary bag. I’ve eaten off worse.

Okay, let’s break this shit down. For my own sense of organization, we’ll go from bottom to top.

Cilantro rice:

Described by Taco Bell as: “Our fluffy white rice contains an authentic hint of cilantro and perfectly compliments any Cantina Bowl or Burrito.”

My experience: The rice was indeed fluffy and well-cooked; it was moist and tasty, but they must really be emphasizing the “hint” part of cilantro, because I detected no cilantro taste at all. And I know my cilantro.

Black beans:

Taco Bell: Described as “tasty and flavorful”. Not much to say about beans, I guess.

Me: As you might be able to tell by the picture, the beans were rather mushy. I didn’t mind, though; I love black beans, and these were full-flavored. Plus, their juices mixed in with the rice, which only added to the rice’s moistness and flavor.

Roasted corn & pepper salsa:

TB: “Includes sweet roasted corn and bright, beautiful red and green bell peppers.”

Me: The corn does, indeed, look roasted, and I was surprised that it actually tasted roasted, too. I didn’t really see any green peppers, but the little bits of red pepper added some nice color and a detectible bit of flavor.

Guacamole:

TB: “Our enticing guacamole includes real Hass avocados, ripe tomatoes, onions, cilantro, and a little kick of lime.”

Me: I call bullshit on this one. The guacamole does have a strong, authentic, delicious avocado flavor, but it’s more like avocado purée than guac. There are no chunks, and no taste of tomatoes, onions, cilantro, or lime, that I could tell. Hell, I’d still put it on just about anything I order from Taco Bell just because I love avocados, but don’t expect much other than creamy avocado that’s probably been pushed through a pastry bag.

Citrus-herb marinated chicken (also pictured above):

TB: “Our grilled, premium white-meat chicken is marinated in a savory blend of lemon and fresh herbs.”

Me: I take issue with the word “premium”, here. My immediate thought upon eating the chicken was of those Foster Farms pre-cooked chicken strips that come in the red pouches. The chicken was moist, but had a processed texture to it. There was a hint of citrus flavor, but not as much as I would have liked, and I don’t know what kind of herbs they used, but I couldn’t taste any of them.

Pico de gallo:

Taco Bell and I pretty much agree here. Tomatoes, onions, and cilantro. The tomatoes were fresh and the onions were crunchy, which are pretty much the only places you can go wrong with pico. I didn’t bother taking a picture because if you can’t imagine chopped tomatoes and onions mixed with cilantro, you have no culinary imagination. Plus, I was pretty tired of taking pictures at this point.

Creamy cilantro dressing:

Taco Bell has no specific description of the dressing on their website, and neither do I, because I couldn’t find an appreciable amount to take a picture of, nor could I really taste a specific cilantro dressing-like substance.

After carefully partitioning and tasting each of the individual ingredients, I was finally able to eat the Cantina Bowl in what I assume was its intended form, and by that I mean, I took my fork and mixed all that shit together into a giant mass of Cantina ingredients. The result? In this case, I’d have to say the whole was greater than the sum of its parts. While some of the ingredients were disappointing by themselves, with everything mixed together, there were lots of different textures, from the crunchiness of the corn and onions to the creaminess of the “guacamole”. I have to believe there was actually some dressing in there, because everything was very moist.

Overall, I have to say Taco Bell’s Cantina Bowl was just okay. There were some hits, like the texture of the rice and the flavor of the beans, and some misses, like the processed feel of the chicken and the disappointing lack of cilantro flavor, despite it being a key part of several ingredients. Also, the Bell makes a big deal in proclaiming that the lettuce is romaine, but it looked and tasted just like regular shredded iceberg to me.

I might give some of the other Cantina Bell items a try – maybe the bean and rice bowl, heck, why not throw some of that avocado paste on top – but the next time I go to Taco Bell, I won’t be getting another Cantina Bowl. I appreciate the effort TB took in revitalizing their menu, but the overall execution was lacking in the flavors it promised.

Good luck on Top Chef Masters, Lorena Garcia. Perhaps you’ll fare better there than you did at Taco Bell. And if Bravo and its sponsors have anything to say about it, I’m sure you’ll do just fine.

Other Taco Bell Cantina Menu reviews: Brand Eating, Fast Food Geek, GrubGrade, So Good, The Impulsive Buy

Taco Bell Cantina Bowl

  • Score: 3 out of 5 totally-not-rigged reality TV cooking shows
  • Price: $4.79
  • Size: 1 bowl
  • Purchased at: Taco Bell #004989
  • Nutritional Quirks: I had this odd feeling I was eating something mildly healthy while consuming the Cantina Bowl. Sure enough, it has less calories and fat than the chicken Fiesta Taco Salad, weighing in at an impressive-for-fast-food 560 calories and 22 grams of fat.
Fast Food

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

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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

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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

M&Ms White Chocolate Candy Corn

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Candy corn. Love it or hate it, it’s been around for over 100 years, and it’s not going anywhere. It’s an iconic symbol of Halloween. It can be used to make impromptu vampire fangs, so hey, that’s something. I’m a big fan of Lewis Black’s take on the stuff. My take on candy corn? I don’t hate it, but let’s just say it never went into the “premium” pile of candy when it came time to sort out my trick-or-treat haul.

I had never even heard of M&Ms White Chocolate Candy Corn until it arrived in the Halloween package of love my mom sent me. Yes, two out of my three Halloween reviews have come courtesy of my mom. Yes, I am a grown woman, and I still get care packages from my mommy. Don’t act like you’re not jealous. I don’t care if you’re 15 or 50, getting a box full of goodies for Halloween is awesome.

I have to say, I’m loving the package. The bag subtly reflects the candy corn’s tri-color appearance, and there’s some corn stalks in the background, because everyone knows candy corn is made from corn. It’s going to be the next biofuel. Which is great, because the amount of uneaten candy corn in the world could probably get us by for a very long time.

And then, of course, there’s Red. Red looks pissed. Or…constipated? It’s hard to tell. Although, given his hand placement, it’s either intestinal distress or he hates how the costume makes him look fat. Regardless, he wants out of that fucking costume like right now. He must share Lewis Black’s views on candy corn.

Through pure chance or clever design on the part of M&Ms, the sample I took from the bag to photograph seemed to reflect the color ratio of an actual candy corn. Small white tip, large yellow middle, and an orange base that falls in between. They’re larger than regular M&Ms, but maintain the classic M&M shape.

I was already apprehensive about the idea of a white chocolate candy corn-flavored M&M, so when I caught a strong whiff of plastic off of them, my hesitance only increased. I’m on good terms with white chocolate, but…together with candy corn flavoring? It seems like a rather Frankensteinian pairing. My tongue shuddered. It was the wrong kind of Halloween scary.

Good news and bad news: M&Ms White Chocolate Candy Corns taste like…candy corns. Which, come to think of it, taste pretty much like how the M&Ms smelled. Like plastic. They really nailed the taste quite accurately. There’s a hint of white chocolate flavor at the end, and it has the texture of white chocolate with a candy shell crunch, but the flavor is strongly that of candy corn. Possibly even more than candy corns themselves. M&Ms out-candy-corned the candy corn. Take that, Brachs.

If you’re a fan of candy corn, M&Ms White Chocolate Candy Corns will delight your palate and look great in that bowl on your coffee table that has a zombie hand sticking out of it which moves and screams any time someone passes by it, annoying everyone in the room. If you’re Lewis Black, I assume you will shout incomprehensibly and throw them across the room while twitching violently. If you are Red, I guess you’ll just stand there looking annoyed. I’m assuming the cast of M&M characters don’t indulge in cannibalism.

If you’re me, you’ll appreciate the entertaining packaging and the accuracy of the replication of candy corn flavor. Unfortunately, like candy corns themselves, these M&Ms won’t be in my premium pile of Halloween candy. However, I always appreciate it when a company tries something new for Halloween. Even if it tastes like plastic.

M&Ms White Chocolate Candy Corn

  • Score: 3 out of 5 pissed off Reds
  • Price: Freeeeeeeee! (Thanks again Mom!)
  • Size: 9.9 oz. bag
  • Purchased at: I have no idea; somewhere in Southern California
  • Nutritional Quirks: One serving (about 1/4 cup) contains 35% of your daily recommended saturated fat. Brach’s candy corn contains 0 grams of any fat. Make the wise choice. (Eat a Fun Size Snickers bar.)
Casual Dining

Denny’s Tour of America: Midwestern Meat & Potatoes Sandwich

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I recently found myself sitting alone in a booth at Denny’s. This is unusual for me; I can’t even remember the last time I was in a restaurant by myself. I wasn’t there for the food; I was there to meet the private investigator I hired to sleuth out what the next crazy fast food trends would be. I also had him researching the best way to sneak the Chilito back onto Taco Bell’s menu.

Okay, that’s obviously a lie. (Or is it? Some people will go to great lengths to find a Chilito.) I was there because my car was across the street at the mechanic’s, and I figured it would be more comfortable to wait somewhere where I could sit in a comfy booth and have some food and coffee, rather than sitting on a hard chair in the repair waiting room that smelled like rubber tires and man sweat.

Out of all these reasons, food was, of course, the deciding factor in regards to where I’d be passing my time. (Coffee and the lack of man sweat were close seconds.) Furthermore, it was fate that this Denny’s happened to be right across the street from the only mechanic in this city open on Sunday (protip: don’t break your car on a Sunday), because it just so happens that Denny’s is currently showcasing its Tour of America menu, which had several items in which I was interested.

At the top of the list was the Midwestern Meat & Potatoes Sandwich. Here’s how Denny’s describes it: “A Cheddar bun stuffed with grilled prime rib and French fries, smothered in brown gravy and topped with melted Swiss and American cheeses and mayo. A side of creamy mashed potatoes and yet more gravy completes this culinary masterpiece!”

Now, when I read that, it screamed “crazy go nuts marketing ploy food” to me. Even Denny’s acknowledged this in their press release, saying in reference to it, “Adventurous eaters, who tried Denny’s Fried Cheese Melt and the Maple Bacon Sundae, won’t want to miss out on Denny’s latest indulgence…”

However, the rabbit hole goes much deeper. Upon reading about the MM&PS, a friend of mine who lives in Minnesota commented that it sounded a lot like a regional dish served in diners and truck stops and the like. I pressed him for information like he was a clove of garlic that I needed finely minced, and he told me that this dish actually has a name: the hot beef commercial.

Hot beef commercial? What the hell? I went on a Google quest, but apparently the hot beef commercial is Minnesota’s best kept secret. I could find a few discussions, and learned that the commercial (it could also be pork or turkey) seems to only exist in Minnesota, but no real solid definitions. I had to go back to my friend for help. According to him, the hot beef commercial is assembled as follows (from the bottom up): piece of bread, meat, taters (maybe some gravy) piece of bread, more gravy.

That does bear some resemblance to Denny’s offering, and MN is definitely Midwestern. Notable differences: the commercial has no mayo or cheese, white bread instead of a cheddar bun, and the mashed potatoes go on or in the sandwich. Apparently you can ask for fries inside, but that’s non-standard. I find all this most interesting just because there seems to be more questions than answers on the Internet in regards to the commercial. Minnesota must be hiding a dark secret. And that secret is hot beef.

I don’t exactly have the means to travel to Minnesota, so I’ll just have to go off of my experience with the Midwestern Meat & Potatoes Sandwich, and leave the comparisons to someone else.

There are a lot of things going on with this sandwich that many people would find unusual or even off-putting. French fries inside a sandwich? Gravy on everything? Madness! Neither of these things really bothered me, though. I’m all for pouring gravy on pretty much everything. As for the french fries, I’ve seen The Big Fat Ugly, and after that, french fries are bush league.

My biggest concern was the mayo. I was totally down with all the other ingredients playing together, but it seemed that mayonnaise was playing dodgeball while the rest were trying to enjoy a nice game of four square. The idea of mingling mayo and gravy in particular made my stomach say “aw hell naw”. My stomach likes tired Internet memes involving Barack Obama.

When I ordered my food, the waitress said, “Oh, isn’t that sandwich just delicious!” I smiled and nodded, not sure why she would assume I’d had it before, and also ambivalent about whether the Denny’s waitress’s seal of approval was a good sign or not.

When my plate arrived, I was encouraged by the aesthetics. The cheddar bun looked delicious and the fries and steak were peaking out as if to say, “Hey baby. You look like you could use some saturated fat.”

I immediately opened the sandwich up and took inventory. Yep, everything was there – meat, cheese, fries, gravy, and…yes, there behind the cheese, the mayo. I appreciate that slice of cheese trying to hide it from me, but I couldn’t be fooled. I knew it was there.

Cutting the sandwich in half with the giant knife provided was a messy process. Messy was a common theme throughout my meal; when you’ve got gravy on a sandwich you’re eating with your hands, you’re going to blow through a lot of napkins. I had to ask my waitress for a whole stack.

The steak was surprisingly tender for a diner chain, and there was a hearty amount of it. The cheese was creamy and melty, which always works well with steak. You may not expect cheese to go well with gravy, but it did, and the gravy, while messy, pulled all the flavors together. There was also just the right amount of it. While the sandwich was messy, it wasn’t soggy, but it also wasn’t too dry.

The fries were tasty enough on their own, but in the sandwich, they seemed like nothing more than a starchy filler. I understand that this sandwich is supposed to be hearty, representing the spirit of the Midwest and/or adult-onset diabetes, but I really could have done without them. The bites I liked the best were the ones with just the meat, cheese, and gravy.

The cheddar bun didn’t offer much noticeable cheese flavor, but it was just the right size and density to stand up to all the ingredients without falling apart. As for the dreaded mayo? I don’t know if I got an unusually small amount, but it completely disappeared amongst all the other flavors. It’s like it wasn’t even on the sandwich, and that was just fine by me.

As for the mashed potatoes, they were, well…mashed potatoes. Nice and fluffy. I felt like I didn’t get enough gravy on them, however. I actually think the gravy worked better on the sandwich than the mashers. When tasted by itself, it had a weak brown gravy flavor, but in the sandwich, it melded with the steak and cheese, which made it seem more flavorful. The mashed potatoes seemed almost like an afterthought; an add-on designed to push the meal over the edge of excess. I would have liked the fries and the mashed potatoes to switch places, so the mashers were in the sandwich, like a real hot beef commercial.

So, it turns out Denny’s Midwestern Meat & Potatoes Sandwich isn’t so crazy after all, and it does actually represent the Midwest, in a roundabout way. As I said, I wish the fries had switched with the mashed potatoes, but the meat was tender and tasty, and, in combination with the cheese and gravy, it made for a hearty sandwich. I would order this sandwich in the future, but without the fries (and the mayo), thus ruining the theme of the meal. I don’t want to mess with Denny’s Tour of America like that, so maybe I’ll just get a California Club Salad instead.

  • Score: 3 out of 5 gravy-soaked napkins
  • Price: $6.99
  • Size: 1 sandwich; 1 pile of mashed potatoes and gravy
  • Purchased at: Denny’s #1970
  • Nutritional Quirks: No nutritional information available on Denny’s website, but an independent website clocks the meal as containing a rather staggering 2,826 milligrams of sodium. Minnesota!
Fast Food

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

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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.
Junk Food

Tabasco Fiasco!

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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!