Adam – Page 27 – The Impulsive Buy

REVIEW: KFC Hot Shot Bites

Adam / July 22, 2013 / Reviews / 4 Comments

In the ever changing fast food world, there are still a few things you can take to the bank. Aside from the universal appeal of McDonald’s French fries and the undisputable fact that Taco Bell always tastes better after a few beers, you can pretty much count on whatever is being billed as the latest “spicy” item to be not really that spicy. Sure, there are a few exceptions (I’m looking at you, Chick-Fil-A Spicy Chicken Sandwich), but for the most part, the fast food execs calling the shots know many of us are wimpy gringos who really can’t handle the flaming stuff.

That, or they know their employees would find a way to screw it up when it came time to serve it.

Hence, the case of KFC’s new Hot Shot Bites. You matriarchs out there can relax, because these are not, as they say in the Dixie, “slap yo mamma silly” hot. In fact, depending on the KFC you walk into, you might find them even less seasoned than their Original Recipe Bites.

Which brings me to perhaps the most tried and true hallmark of fast food: consistency, or lack there of. Yes, you might as well fetch the cheese board, because I’m about to do some whining when it comes to KFC’s remarkable record of inconsistency.

I went to two separate KFC’s to buy the Hot Shot Bites, and in both cases was presented with something that was being sold as the authentic Hot Shot Bites. The first occasion found me receiving what looked more like Popeyes Rip’n Chicken than anything else; with dry, stringy meat that displayed no red hue, absolutely zero heat or spice, and more cornflake-like breading than actual meat.

We’ll get back to those impostors later, because my second trip (to a completely different KFC) at least managed to turn up the Mars red-hued nuggets that matched the promotional photo.

The good news was the batch I received on the second trip contained moist and juicy meat right out of the fryer. The bad news? The breading, which was oily and falling off as soon as I touched the Bites. While I’m sure eating the Bites is healthier this way, it definitely also reduced the heat level. However, the problem with these Bites is that heat level wasn’t high to begin with.

Crunching on the exterior breading, I detected a noticeable but very restrained cayenne and black pepper flavor that you might associate with Tabasco sauce. True, it’s got a kind of buttery-Buffalo style aftertaste because of how oily the Bites are, but unless you’ve been living in the Arctic Circle, I doubt you’ll find the Bites hot and spicy.

Now, back to those impostor Bites. Remember those? I actually returned to the KFC selling the impostors after buying what I’ll call the real Hot Shot Bites (“hot” being used in the most liberal of applications), and I brought along one of the real Bites to compare.

After asking the manager about the discrepancy, I was assured the Bites I received from the first store were “up to standard,” and was shown, much to my amazement, the exact same impostor Bite I received on my first trip (lack of red hue and all). What do I make of it? Well, you’ve got me. All I can opine is what I’ve noticed to be a record of inconsistency at KFC franchises, a record which makes getting something truly spicy akin to playing the fast food lottery.

All things considered, the real KFC Hot Shot Bites aren’t bad. No, they’re not very spicy or hot, but they’ve got enough flavor to eat sans sauce, and when cooked properly, are succulent and juicy. Still, they’re not nearly as good as Chick-Fil-A’s now discontinued Spicy Nuggets from a few years back, and that’s assuming you get a good batch.

In that case, perhaps the best question isn’t, “Can you take the heat?”, but rather, “Are you feeling lucky?”

(Nutrition Facts – Not available on website.)

Other KFC Hot Shot Bites reviews:
Grub Grade
Brand Eating

Item: KFC Hot Shot Bites
Purchased Price: $3.99 (combo with a side and drink)
Size: 6 pieces
Purchased at: KFC
Rating: 5 out of 10
Pros: Moist and succulent white meat. Has buttery Buffalo sauce aftertaste thing going on. Crunchy breading. KFC’s Sweet Kernel Corn (the most underrated fast food side in the world, if you’re asking me).
Cons: Inconsistent spicing and cooking by location. Not actually slap-yo’-mamma hot. One note in cayenne heat. Breading falls off too easily. A bit oily. Fast food manager rage.

REVIEW: Armour Syrup Flavored Vienna Sausage

Adam / July 16, 2013 / Reviews / 11 Comments

There are certain cravings that make sense.

I want an ice cream cone on a hot summer day. Watching Chris Davis go yard at the Yard, I feel a sudden urge for peanuts and Cracker Jack.

Other cravings are a little more “out there,” but understandable given extenuating circumstances. It’s what excuses adding pork rinds to your milkshake after a night at the bar, or what allows pregnant women to justify eating Pillsbury brownie mix right out of the bowl. Some cravings, though, just make no sense whatsoever.

Take me and canned meat. Growing up with a bountiful supply of, well, your typical American upper-middle class food, I always had the blessing of fresh meat to eat during my formative gastronomic years. Likewise, in college, I enjoyed an all-you-can-eat dining hall which, despite being a young man with a plan, did not leave me with a necessary reliance on any sort of can. And having never lived through a natural disaster, been subjected to a dinner party at a Doomsday Prepper’s home, nor decided to engage in any kind of cross-oceanic voyage that would make canned food a necessity, you might surmise that I should have no attraction to the canned meat aisle to begin with.

You, my friend, would be wrong.

Quite the opposite, really. My fixation on canned meats knows no limits, which is probably why the 53 cent can of the new Armour Syrup Flavored Vienna Sausage captured my imagination.

First, a word on perspective. My romanticized version of canned meat aside, I’m still a realist when it comes to these kinds of products. At less than a pack of the really cheap gum (you know, the one with the multicolored striped zebra), I realize I’m getting something which probably has no taste whatsoever of the chicken, beef, and pork which I’m told make up each sausage. By the same token, I can dull my expectations of full bodied maple flavor when it comes to “syrup type sauce.” Just a quick recap of the hierarchy of syrup and such:

1) Maple Syrup

2) Pancake Syrup

3) Syrup-Type Sauce

Clearly we fall below the gourmet line. Actually, we even fall below the school cafeteria line, but who’s judging? Well, besides me. Now, about this aroma. There really is no experience short of a career as a dump truck driver that will prepare you for the initial waft of a freshly opened can. “Fresh” is the operative word here.

Overall, the smell strikes boldly of truck stop leftovers. Not just your generic Route 66 truck-stop leftovers, mind you. I’m talking Western Pennsylvania scrapple drowned in a weak corn syrup liquid which proudly claims a hue bordering on Diesel brownish-yellow and “if your pee is this color, please consult a doctor immediately.” Yeah, that kind of leftovers.

If you’ve never had a Vienna sausage, the best way I can describe it is like a cheap hot dog, only the size of your thumb. It’s a bit slimy on the outside, with an initial rubbery bite and a bit of pasty consistency on the finish. It doesn’t really taste like meat, but bad smell and all jokes aside, it’s not completely objectionable.

If you’re not averse to eating highly processed meats you might even find it “meh.” That said, you probably will need something to jazz it up. That’s where the “syrup type sauce” comes in. But who are we kidding? Calling this stuff a sauce is like calling watered down Pepsi a sauce. The consistency is that of water, with no body in texture and little, if any, flavor to the sweetness. It’s just kind of there, and what’s more, only has seeped into the sausages in moderate amounts. What it creates is a mildly sweet-salty combination, but only one on the atomic level. All things considered, it tastes exactly like you’d expect; a mini cheap hot dog with some sugar poured on it.

While the epicurean toothpick method is highly preferred in most “snack from the can when nobody is looking” occasions, consider that the fine folks at Armour want you to remember that these are “Great with Breakfast!” To this end, I must admit, they are not.

And should you take it upon yourself to whip sliced pieces of Syrup flavored sausage into your favorite waffle batter, you will in fact yield an utterly insipid waffle with burnt pieces of said Vienna Sausage. Unless you prefer your waffles burnt on the outside, chewy on the inside, and just kinda weird tasting all over, I recommend passing on this cooking application of the product.

At 53 cents a can, Armour’s new Syrup Flavored Vienna Sausages might be the most economical way of getting your sweet and salty fix on this side of pouring a Splenda packet and salt packet in your mouth simultaneously. Nevertheless, the latest and greatest creation from Armour serves as a tried and true reminder that you get what you pay for.

I can forgive highly processed meat that doesn’t taste like meat. I mean, that’s what canned food is all about. But I was really expecting more from the syrup. to this end, I have to proclaim this bold innovation in canned food a failure. Oh well. I guess there’s always SPAM.

(Nutrition Facts – 3 sausages with syrup – 120 calories, 70 calories from fat, 8 grams of fat, 2.5 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 40 milligrams of cholesterol, 510 milligrams of sodium, 8 grams of carbohydrates, 7 grams of sugar, and 5 grams of protein.)

Item: Armour Syrup Flavored Vienna Sausage
Purchased Price: 53 cents
Size: 4.75 oz. can
Purchased at: Walmart
Rating: 3 out of 10
Pros: Not completely detestable. Extremely cheap. Has kind of the salty-sweet thing going on, albeit in a leftover truck-stop diner food kind of way.
Cons: But, why? Syrup looks like gasoline. Not desirable by any means. Syrup lacks body, depth, or noticeable flavor outside of high fructose corn syrup. Sausages taste like cheap hot dogs out of a can, which technically they are. Cravings that make no sense.

Armour Canned Food Misc Foods

REVIEW: Ruffles Cheese Crispy Fries

Adam / July 2, 2013 / Reviews

Ah, summer.

A time for ice cream cones, days at the beach, and jealousy for all of us who didn’t take that career path known as “public school educator.”

If you’re anything like me, chances are you’ll be embarking on another rite of the All-American summer again this year. And no, I’m not just talking about attempting to fit a triple-double s’more into your piehole.

It’s the road trip, of course!

Whether to your nearest recreational and beachy abode of choice, or just to your buddy’s cabin at the lake, we’re all entitled to venturing out for a little R&R this time of year. Having graduated from backseat “are we there yet?” queries and being forced to hold in a bladder the size of a nine month pregnant woman (it’s OK, we’ve all been there) because of families’ totalitarian pit stop policies, it’s likely you and I will use the power of discretion by stopping for replenishment on these sojourns.

Junk food is a prerequisite, but logistics are not on your side. Take what the Golden Arches have called “Frydration.” Sure, sustaining your vigilance behind the wheel is all the easier with a container of French fries at your side, but from the moment you pull into the drive-through to that first dip of spud into ketchup, your food clock is ticking.

Too much time in the bag and your steaming, already inconsistent fries turn to soggy mush, while any attempt to postpone your trip for a proper chowdown could leave you fighting rush-hour traffic once you hit the road again. And besides, plain fries can be boring. But throw in finger licking, guilty pleasure toppings like cheese and you’re starting to deal with a seriously gross steering wheel.

Thankfully, Ruffles has come up with a cheesy French fry in potato chip guise, and 7-Elevens across America have been given exclusive license to carry them.

Granted, Ruffles new Crispy Fries aren’t the first potato chip/fry hybrid on the market, but unlike brands like Snikiddy, Ruffles isn’t giving me any of this “baked” bullshit. Let’s get one thing straight: the only baking I want to do on my summer vacation is on the beach.

As for my road trip munchies, that sacred territory is reserved for fried and chemically engineered flavors that only heavy hitting brands like Ruffles can come up with. And do they ever with these little guys.

The cheese seasoning is applied very liberally to each side of the fries, and aside from an addictive buttermilk and processed cheddar cheese taste, there’s a nice kick of black pepper and garlic powder that conjures up pleasant memories of T.G.I. Friday’s French fries. I was pleasantly surprised by the authentic French fry vibe, right on down to the skin-on ends of a number of the fries.

I like how they have a crunchy nature, although I do find myself missing the fluffy interior that comes with perfectly fried fries. Considering how many fast food places screw that up, though, makes it easier to forgive and forget.

As for the insides of Ruffles’ Crispy Fries, they’re interesting; at first I was expecting a hollow interior, but instead the insides are filled with hardened fried potato “stuff.” As you chew the fry, you find that potato “stuff” less like a potato chip and more like, dare I say, reconstituted mashed potatoes. I like it. It works. It shouldn’t, but it does, and it’s surprisingly potato-ey on the backend.

I have to admit, these are really good, and it’s not just the hyperbole-laced pep talk from the bag talking (although points for referring to me as “champ”). They’ve got good cheese flavor, a little bit of sweetness, plenty of crunch, and a similar finish to actual fries despite the lack of a fluffy interior.

I even liked that there were some especially crispy and oily fries, which gave off the whole horrible-for-you but oh-so-tasty vibe you get from fast food. If you’re a fan of anything crunchy and cheesy, these are definitely something worth making a detour for during bathroom break stops when you hit the open road this summer.

(Nutrition Facts – 1 bag – 230 calories, 140 calories from fat, 15 grams of fat, 2.5 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 0 grams of polyunsaturated fat, 0 gram of monounsaturated fat, 0 milligrams of cholesterol, 210 milligrams of sodium, 430 milligrams of potassium, 20 grams of carbohydrates, 2 grams of fiber, 2 grams of sugar, and 2 grams of protein.)

Other Ruffles Crispy Fries reviews:
Food Junk (Original)

Item: Ruffles Cheese Crispy Fries
Purchased Price: $1.09
Size: 1.4 oz. bag
Purchased at: 7-Eleven
Rating: 8 out of 10
Pros: Crispy potato chip texture in French fry guise. Good cheese fry flavor. Surprisingly strong potato taste. Tasty black pepper kick. Mashed potato vibe. Not as messy as actual cheese fries. Being called a “champ.” Not having to be subjected to my father’s totalitarian car rules and bathroom stop criteria any longer.
Cons: Lacks the fluffy interior of perfectly fried French fries. Only available in small bags at 7-Eleven for a limited time. Road trip traffic to get to the beach.

Chips Ruffles

REVIEW: Kellogg’s Froot Loops Treasures Cereal

Adam / June 25, 2013 / Reviews / 4 Comments

If one man’s junk is another man’s treasure, then the new Froot Loops Treasures are something I would expect to find at a Bald Eagle’s garage sale.

Mind you, a Bald Eagle, if he were having a garage sale, would have some really good ‘junk.’ What with being the symbol of America, freedom, and numerous sports teams, but when you get right down to it, it’s still selling stuff considered junk.

Kind of like the new Froot Loops Treasures, which with a veritable rainbow of artificial food dyes and 12 grams of sugar per completely unrealistic one cup serving, could be either junk or treasure in the eye of the beholder.

If the concept behind Froot Loops Treasures looks familiar, then award yourself a +1 in the nostalgia department and consider the case of Hidden Treasures.

It was a General Mills cult favorite that had an otherwise unimpressive two year run during the early days of the Clinton administration. The gimmick behind the corn cereal with a fruity center was that not all of the squares contained actual fruit (and I use the term ‘fruit’ incredibly loosely; as in anything with color). Thus, eating Hidden Treasures was like going on a treasure hunt in cereal bowl. Man, the early 1990s were some wild times indeed.

Froot Loops Treasures avoids such trickeration completely and just packs each red square with strawberry-flavored filling. While I didn’t verify the exact ratio of standard Froot Loops rings to strawberry squares with an exhaustive hand count, I’d put the ratio at about 8:1 or so.

In other words, you’re still getting plenty of that standard Froot Loops goodness. The loops aren’t as crunchy as they were back before the days when Kellogg’s made them slightly healthier with multigrain elements, but they’ve still got the cloying-in-a-good way taste that’s vaguely coconutty and fruity with a slightly glazed mouthfeel. If you love them, you love them; and oh how I love them.

The red squares lack that faux-donut glaze that the loops have, and when nibbled plain, they don’t have any taste. The good news is the filling actually has a bit of discernible strawberry flavor and even a backend note of tartness.

It’s a strawberry goo/puree deal that has become standard for fruit-filled cereals like the Frosted Mini-Wheats Touch of Fruit in the Middle varieties. It’s not quite as candylicious as the filling of a gusher and has a little more viscosity than fruit leather. I’m sure it would make a fine spread for tea and crumpets and somesuch.

The problem – and it’s a major one – is the same problem most filled-cereal pieces have: there’s just nowhere near enough filling to make a major impact. Given the over-the-top and one note sweetness you either love or hate with Froot Loops, the addition of a berry-flavored kick on the backend just doesn’t do much enough to make you feel like you’re eating a different kind of cereal.

I will say the filled-pieces are more enjoyable in milk than eaten plain. There must be something about the addition of moisture that draws out the texture of the filling, and breaks up the monotony of the standard Froot Loops flavor. To that end, I’ve become increasingly less enthusiastic about Froot Loops eaten in milk since a reformation of the formula to a multigrain texture a few years ago. They just don’t seem to stay crunchy enough, unlike, say, Malt-O-Meal’s Tootie Fruities.

If you’re a fan of Froot Loops, then you’re going to find a trove with the new Froot Loops Treasures. They’ve got everything regular Froot Loops have plus a welcomed change-of-pace that actually gives the cereal a bit more flavor and texture than the classic.

But if you’re like me, and you’re the kind of person who feels like each expedition down the cereal aisle is a search for a new and sugary treasure, then the lack of strawberry filling and textural contrast in the latest Froot Loops don’t mark the spot.

(Nutrition Facts – 1 cup – 110 calories, 10 calories from fat, 1 grams of fat, 0.5 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat*, 0 grams of polyunsaturated fat, 0 gram of monounsaturated fat, 0 milligrams of cholesterol, 140 milligrams of sodium, 35 milligrams of potassium, 26 grams of carbohydrates, 3 grams of fiber, 12 grams of sugar, and 2 grams of protein.)

Item: Kellogg’s Froot Loops Treasures Cereal
Purchased Price: $2.99
Size: 10.5 oz. box
Purchased at: Target
Rating: 7 out of 10
Pros: No change to the super sweet taste of standard Froot Loops. Red squares all come with at least some strawberry filling. Noticing an actual tartness and genuine strawberry taste in a cereal with more food colorings than a paining supply store. Now with fiber!
Cons: Not enough strawberry filling to make me feel like I’ve found a cereal treasure. A standard bowl mostly tastes just like regular Froot Loops. Froot Loops rings lack crunch of the good old days. Not remembering what Hidden Treasures tastes like. Animal garage sales.

Cereal Froot Loops Kellogg's

REVIEW: Dunkin’ Donuts Glazed Donut Breakfast Sandwich

Adam / June 10, 2013 / Reviews

Throughout the course of human history, it becomes necessary, at certain times when the illusion of progress has been reached, to stretch culinary creativity even further.

Especially in fast food lest we become too far accustomed to dry hamburger patties on stale sesame seed buns or rubbery egg byproducts adorned with nothing more than cold, unmelted processed “cheese.”

In 2009, it was the Double Down. More recently, it was the fusing of chip and taco for Taco Bell’s Doritos Locos Tacos. Shocking, innovative, delicious, and perhaps even life threatening in copious amounts? No doubt. But completely freaking worth it.

But has such innovation been available before 10:30 AM?

No.

So with an eye towards pushing the envelope of acceptable gluttony at the breakfast table even beyond the realms of Fruity Pebbles consumed with half-and-half while sitting naked in front of reruns of Looney Tunes*, Dunkin’ Donuts has unveiled the Glazed Donut Breakfast Sandwich.

To be honest, I wasn’t surprised when I heard about it. Don’t get me wrong, I was excited to try the sandwich, but not in the OMG shock-and-awe kind of excitement that resonates in middle school text message conversations. Personally, I’ve been eating salty and meaty things on donuts for years.

What with the proximity of Burger King and Krispy Kreme in Salt Lake City Airport’s Terminal B, it was inevitable during my money-strapped and homesick college days that those two worlds would collide in a surprisingly tasty combination. And given the burgeoning popularity of any number of Luther Burger designs, I know I’m not the only one who has been waiting for the mainstream acceptance of using a donut as a bun.

Boasting a pepper-fried egg and cherrywood-smoked bacon, the sandwich comes out just like any of Dunkin’s other toasted sandwiches — an employee zaps the egg and bacon in a microwave/toaster oven/silver box I presume cooks (or at the very least warms) the food, and then the contents are assembled on the bread of choice. I didn’t ask if I could get the sandwich with another type of donut, but the Original Glazed is a no brainer.

However, Dunkin’s Glazed Donut has its flaws. Namely, it’s a bit on the petite side, and doesn’t have the kind of homemade rise that really, really good donuts have. But it’s still light and airy with that sweetly rich taste of fried dough that makes eating a donut much more pleasant than eating…Well, celery or some crap like that.

I especially liked how the flavors of the fried egg and bacon, oozing their own buttery and pork fat juices, respectively, seeped inside of the donut. It’s like someone decided to put sweet cream butter on a donut. Why has no one thought to do that before?

Anyways, the glaze, while slightly chipped in places and not boasting 100 percent topside coverage, had been warmed in the radiant heat of the wrapper, resurrecting it to a fresh baked, slightly gooey, and stick-to-your-fingers texture that will leave you licking your lips hours after finishing.

As for the pepper fried egg and cherrywood bacon, both were good, but not that good. The egg had a decent flavor with some saltiness and butteriness. It didn’t, however, have a crisp fried egg texture. And the only thing the black pepper specks added to the party was a hint of disjointedness with the donut’s sweetness.

The bacon was good, but limp. They were the standard fast food precooked strips that (ironically) many fast food restaurants are moving away from these days. Lacking crunch or a pronounced smoke flavor, I didn’t pick up on the cherrywood and missed what could have been a real textural contrast with the donut. Worse yet, I even managed to pick up a slightly burnt taste on the edges of one the stripes.

However, despite the bacon’s faults and it being cliché to say sandwiches scream for more bacon when all other attempts at improvement fail, this donut sandwich needs more damn bacon!

I also have to admit the sandwich is already a bit awkward to eat given its construction. Wrapped tightly in paper, the donut itself is compressed and somewhat steamed by the warm contents of the egg and bacon. That combination causes the donut’s underside to break down like a helpless burger bun battling against too much fat and moisture from a seeping patty.

Thusly, attempting to pick it up and eat it like an actual sandwich is a recipe for getting donut goo on yourself. I don’t mind so much because I think donut goo could make an attractive moisturizer or cologne.

Dunkin’ Donut’s new Glazed Donut Breakfast Sandwich is innovative, but messy. It’s good, but not great. It’s well thought out, but not executed well. In short, it’s not all that it could be, and not all that fast food junkies demand it should be. Still, for those spurred on by a bit of impulse and a hankering to try something new for their morning (or afternoon) routine, it’s an enjoyable bite of sweet and salty.

*Hypothetically speaking, of course.

(Nutrition Facts – 360 calories, 180 calories from fat, 20 grams of fat, 13 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 60 milligrams of cholesterol, 720 milligrams of sodium, 32 grams of carbohydrates, 1 gram of fiber, 13 grams of sugar, and 13 grams of protein.)

Other Dunkin’ Donuts Glazed Donut Breakfast Sandwich reviews:
Grub Grade
Junk Food Guy

Item: Dunkin’ Donuts Glazed Donut Breakfast Sandwich
Purchased Price: $3.39
Size: N/A
Purchased at: Dunkin’ Donuts
Rating: 7 out of 10
Pros: Another affirmation of team sweet ‘n salty in the fast food world. Glazed donut gets resurrected in an gooey way. Egg patty has surprisingly good flavor. Tastes like a buttered glazed donut. Less calories than Dunkin’s “healthy” Turkey Sausage Sandwich.
Cons: Doesn’t go big or bold enough. Bacon lacks crunch or cherry smoke flavor. Pepper fried egg is not actually fried in butter, but instead infused with “Natural Sautéed Flavor.” Messy. Awkward to eat. Doesn’t feel quite worth its price tag.

Dunkin Dunkin Donuts Fast Food

REVIEW: KFC Hot Shot Bites

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REVIEW: Armour Syrup Flavored Vienna Sausage

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REVIEW: Ruffles Cheese Crispy Fries

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REVIEW: Kellogg’s Froot Loops Treasures Cereal

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REVIEW: Dunkin’ Donuts Glazed Donut Breakfast Sandwich

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