REVIEW: Burger King Smooth Roast Coffee from Seattle’s Best Coffee

Burger King Smooth Roast Coffee

Like many Americans, I consider myself completely incapable of functioning without the glorious benefits of caffeine. I’ll kick around a couple Coke Zeros a day and maybe even an energy drink now and then, but by far, my shaking, yet functioning, hands rely on a strong cup of coffee every morning to get me through the work day.

Being that coffee seems to be one of the few beverages left that science says can actually lengthen my life and not just send me to an early, morbidly obese (if not cancerous) grave, I don’t feel too bad about this otherwise breath-killing addiction.

Embracing this habit, I figure I might as well be drinking something reasonably good and affordable too. I fancy myself something of an everyman when it comes to coffee, mind you, but I do recognize an objective hierarchy in the kinds of roasted beans I want to ingest. And no, I’m not just talking about Jelly Belly Cappuccino jelly beans.

I really don’t think about Burger King when it comes to coffee. At least, I haven’t thought about it much since that one time when I actually had their coffee. Perhaps slightly better than stale DMV coffee but not quite up to the level of West Virginia roadside truckstop brews, Burger King’s previous BK Joe was, at best, a black substance that was (sometimes) hot.

But with the chain deciding to take one step closer towards becoming McDonald’s by ditching its traditional burgers and fries only lineup in place of something bordering on vaguely café-ish, I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to see if the new Seattle Best Smooth Roast Coffee could take the bitter taste (pun completely and egregiously intended) of my past experience from my mouth.

Burger King Smooth Roast Coffee Cup

Seeing that my local Burger King just happens to be right next to my local McDonald’s, I figured a side-by-side comparison was in order. I’ve never been wowed by the “100% Arabica beans” of the Premium Roast from the Golden Arches, but it seems popular enough amongst those who frequent fast food for breakfast.

The first thing I noticed about Burger King’s coffee was, like McDonald’s, the lack of control you have over flavoring. True, ask for a few creamers (thankfully of the real variety) and sweeteners of your choice and each chain is happy to provide them, but when it comes to spices like cinnamon, nutmeg, or vanilla (like Starbucks or Einstein Brothers provides) you’re out of luck. You’re also out of luck for multiple cream/milk options, although I guess you could always purchase a kid’s meal milk separately.

Advantage? It’s a draw, with both chains clearly not catering to the consummate coffee drinker.

Burger King Smooth Roast Coffee McDonald's Coffee Lids

While both chains serve iced coffee with a variety of flavors, when it comes to keeping coffee hot, and not just lukewarm, both did the trick. But where McDonald’s coffee was served in a scalding hot manner that left a nasty little burn bump on my upper lip, Burger King’s was just right. It really doesn’t help that the McCafe cups come with an awkward lid that doesn’t funnel hot beverages so much as it releases liquid in the coffee equivalent to a surging river. It’s a point I probably wouldn’t have noticed had it not been for Burger King’s more drinker-friendly lid, which funneled the just-right Smooth Roast Coffee into my sleep deprived system.

Advantage? This one goes to Burger King.

Now, on to flavor. The Seattle’s Best Coffee is indeed smooth, especially when compared to McDonald’s “Premium” McCafe blend. Taking initial sips from each chain’s coffee, I find the McCafe coffee bland, bitter, and a touch watery, with no substantial flavor notes or earthy characteristics. Burger King’s blend is naturally a bit sweeter, slightly nutty, and noticeably less bitter, and has a higher drinkability factor all on its own. I didn’t pick up any of the advertised “chocolaty,” notes, but on its own it came across as sharper and better tasting than McDonald’s blend.

After initially tasting both coffees black, I added the prerequisite cream and sweetener (Splenda). Here again I enjoyed the Seattle Best Coffee more, and felt like the smooth and light flavor complimented the cream better than McDonald’s coffee, which still came off as watery and underwhelming to me.

Advantage? Clearly, the King did something right here.

Burger King Smooth Roast Coffee Closeup

Is Burger King’s coffee something that a serious coffee drinker should seek out? Only if you’re a serious coffee drinker in a town full of truckstops offering stale tasting coffee. But even though I wouldn’t take the Smooth Roast over chains like Starbucks or even my own favorite, Einstein’s Brothers, Burger King’s Smooth Roast Coffee from Seattle’s Best Coffee is a real improvement over Burger King’s previous java attempts.

(NOTE: For a limited time, you can get a small cup for just a quarter and, according to the worker taking my order, you can get a shot of flavor for free.)

(Nutritional Facts: 0 calories, 0 grams of fat, 0 grams of saturated fat, 0 milligrams of cholesterol, 0 milligrams of sodium, 0 grams of carbs, 0 grams of sugar, 0 gram dietary fiber, and 0 grams of protein.)

Other BK Smooth Roast Coffee reviews:
Brand Eating
Man Reviews Food (Iced Mocha version)

Item: Burger King Smooth Roast Coffee from Seattle’s Best Coffee
Purchased Price: .25 cents (limited time only price)
Size: 12 ounces
Purchased at: Burger King
Rating: 6 out of 10
Pros: Caffeine! Better than McDonald’s “Premium” coffee. Not watered down. Mellow and slightly sweet flavor. Not overly bitter. User-friendly lid. Free flavor shot.
Cons: Won’t appease serious coffee drinkers. Only comes in one flavor. Not very bold or complex. Add-ins like cinnamon or cocoa not available. Costs extra for whipped cream. Not as tasty as Jelly Belly Cappuccino jelly beans. Contemplating burger and coffee pairings.

REVIEW: Lay’s Do Us a Flavor Finalist Chicken & Waffles Potato Chips

Lay's Do Us a Flavor Chicken & Waffles Potato Chips

I was pretty stoked when Lay’s first introduced their “Do Us a Flavor” contest last summer. I mean really. It was about time one of these snack food giants gave me the chance to take my dream of country pate and crusty baguette chips and make it a reality.

Alas, the folks at Frito-Lay decided to crush my dreams by going with three other flavors as their finalists. I can’t say I’m surprised by two of them. I have nothing against Sriracha or Cheesy Garlic Bread, but really, we’ve seen spicy and cheesy when it comes to chips before.

What we haven’t seen before (at least not in America) is chicken & waffles. At least not in fried spud form. Syrup? Yes. Denny’s breakfast platters? Of course. But not potato chips. That’s just crazy talk.

Well, I guess we might as well call Lay’s crazy because they’ve decided to milk this soul food classic for all its “Upcoming Food Trends” list-generating hype is worth.

I’m sure a more prolific writer would resign any poultry puns before embarking on such a review, but there’s really no other way to describe my first reaction when opening the bag; my God, these chips smell foul!

It’s this funky, almost mildew-inducing stench which borders somewhere between brown sugar oatmeal and leftover KFC, as if each chip has been cooked in oil leftover from the original Wells Supper Club in Harlem…circa 1938.

Lay's Do Us a Flavor Chicken & Waffles Potato Chips Closeup1

For as bad as the chips smell, they actually look quite appetizing. They appear thicker and more robust than your standard potato chips, and have a kettle-cooked type hue with real, skin-on edges. The seasoning, while smelling just awful, didn’t look unappetizing. Aside from a stick-to-your finger coating of brown sugar and “chicken and waffle seasoning,” there’s even your prerequisite unidentified herb coating each chip. 

If you don’t like herbs, you might like these chips because they don’t have any herby taste whatsoever. Of course, you might also like these chips if you enjoy a really funky, if not altogether, off-putting pungency that hangs in the roof of your mouth like Luke Skywalker dangling in the Wampa’s cave during The Empire Strikes Back.

I really don’t know how to describe the taste other than clashing and vaguely reminiscent of mold. There’s something about the initial zip of brown sugar; followed by the artificial chicken taste; some fake butter flavor thrown in there just for good measure; and the onion, garlic and chicken bullion that make for a really, really strange flavor.

Lay's Do Us a Flavor Chicken & Waffles Potato Chips 2

Oh, who am I kidding?

These are horrible. They taste old and rotten. And while there’s a nice crunch that’s more substantial than your standard Lay’s chip, there’s no taste of a potato whatsoever. Even the artwork on the bag looks unappetizing – like a Play-Doh reconstructed waffle and the kind of chicken drumette they stick in working kitchen displays in IKEAs. Forget that foodie-inspired wisdom you think you know because, after eating these, I never want to encounter brown sugar, chicken broth, and onion powder in this close proximity ever again.

And that aroma. I just can’t get past it. The only thing that compares is sticking your face into an amusement park trash can and taking a gigantic whiff of stuff.

I was completely prepared to admonish Lay’s for picking two “safer” flavors when it came to their Flavor Finalists, but Sriracha and Cheesy Garlic Bread now look really good. I can’t fathom them being any worse than these chicken & waffles chips. And to think, they could have totally struck it rich with that country pate and crusty baguette flavor…

(Editor’s Note: We reviewed the other two Lay’s Do Us a Flavor Finalists. Click here for the Cheesy Garlic Bread flavor and click here for the Sriracha flavor.)

(Nutrition Facts – 28g/about 17 chips – 160 calories, 90 calories from fat, 10 grams of fat, 1.5 grams of saturated fat, 0 milligrams of cholesterol, 135 milligrams of sodium, 320 milligrams of potassium, 15 grams of carbohydrates, 1 grams of fiber, 2 grams of sugar, and 2 grams of protein.)

Item: Lay’s Do Us a Flavor Finalist Chicken & Waffles Potato Chips
Purchased Price: $3.00
Size: 9.5 oz. bag
Purchased at: Weis Market
Rating: 1 out of 10
Pros: Crunchier than a normal Lay’s chips. Smells slightly better than sticking your head into an amusement park trash can. 
Cons: Heavy doses of brown sugar and ‘savory’ spices come together worse than blindly pouring an entire spice cabinet into a bowl. Moldy smell comes across in the seasoning. Can’t taste the potatoes. Quite possibly the least appetizing potato product I’ve ever eaten.

REVIEW: Nabisco Limited Edition Mega Stuf Oreo

Mega Stuf Oreo

Update 1/19/2019: If you’re looking for Oreo The Most Stuff, click here to read our review.

Believe it or not, there was a time when the Double Stuf Oreo was considered the pinnacle of modern mass-produced cookie engineering. Long before the Manning brothers failed to translate their quarterbacking prowess in a misguided career move to make history with the Double Stuf Racing League, and way before Double Stuf Oreos morphed into the template for every flavor filling this side of red velvet cake*, the concept of an Oreo cookie with twice the normal crème filling was something to marvel at.

*Calling it now, within the next five years, we will see an Oreo with this filling.

Those days are long gone, however, as the Double Stuff Oreo has become, in essence, the default Oreo. I mean really. Aside from sentimental old people who meticulously stick to a pre-bedtime routine of dunking exactly three Oreos in milk, does anyone really think they’re getting the full cookies and cream experience by eating the “original” Oreo cookie?

I sure as hell don’t.

What’s more, those who favor the cream element of cookies and cream are feeling shortchanged. You know how I know that? Because there’s a crapload of perfectly sane people out there who’ve resorted to hacking Oreos for the sake of maximizing their Oreo creme to cookie ratio. Heck, I’d probably be one of those people if I didn’t feel so bad about wasting all those chocolate wafer leftovers or incessantly worrying about straining my jaw muscles in an attempt to shove a Duodecuple Stuf Oreo into my mouth.

Mega Stuf Oreo Closeup

I guess Nabisco has finally noticed. Like Kurt Bozwell calling for bigger Mondo Burgers in the 1997 smash-hit Good Burger, the company has responded for our insatiable appetite for more creme filling by introducing the Limited Edition Mega Stuf Oreo.  Considering it’s been about a month since the whole Birthday Cake Oreo thing came out in Golden Oreo form, you might just say Nabisco has killed two birds with one stone by fulfilling their need for a new monthly Limited Edition flavor. Alas, and here I was hoping we’d be getting a triple dark chocolate ganache filling in honor of Valentine’s Day…

Being both the Oreo aficionado and failed investigative journalist I am, I was quite intent to take the Mega Stuf Oreo to task and see if it really would withstand more licks to dissolve the filling than the classic Double Stuf Oreo. Because I have the patience of a pre-snap read Peyton Manning, however, I was completely unable to subject my tongue to the kind of attrition needed to lick through both a Mega Stuf Oreo and Double Stuf Oreo in one sitting. So I just decided to weigh each Oreo to make it easier.

Mega Stuf Oreo vs Double Stuf Oreo

The Mega Stuf Oreo weighed in at the advertised 18 grams per cookie, while the Double Stuf Oreo comes in at 15 grams per cookie (slightly above advertised weight.) After separating the creme fillings from the wafers, I discovered the Mega Stuf filling weighs in at 12 grams, while the Double Stuf filling packs only 7 grams. That’s a 52.6% increase in filling right there, which, if you ask me, is a pretty big deal if you find yourself squarely on the side of the crème side of the cookies vs. crème debate.

Thing is, this is exactly the kind of cookie to push me to the opposite side of the debate, because I just don’t see the point in having a Mega Stuf filling over a Double Stuf filling. I also don’t see the point in spelling “stuff” with only one “F,” but that’s a different story for the next Limited Edition Oreo review.

Mega Stuf Oreo In Package

As for the Oreos themselves, forget for a second that the fillings, and the cookies, taste exactly the same. Never mind for a moment that by biting into a single Mega Stuf Oreo you’re getting as much sugar as a bowl of Peanut Butter Toast Crunch. Put aside, if for only a moment, the overly crumbling nature of the cookie wafer, and the fact that it splits apart too easily with that annoying overstuffed sandwich syndrome that renders the chocolate cookie pretty much useless. How about just considering that a single package of Mega Stuf Oreos contains ten fewer cookies than a package of Double Stuf Oreos?

I don’t care where you fall on the crème vs. cookie side of the fence, because as far as I can tell, ten less cookies means bad for all of us Oreo lovers.

With that being said, I still liked the Mega Stuf Oreo a lot, mostly because they taste exactly like Double Stuf Oreos. I just wish I wasn’t getting shortchanged on my cookie count per container, because as any Oreo lover with tell you, bigger only means better if it means a bigger box of cookies.

(Nutrition Facts – 2 cookies – 180 calories, 80 calories from fat, 9 grams of fat, 3 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 1 gram of polyunsaturated fat, 4 grams of monounsaturated fat, 0 milligrams of cholesterol, 95 milligrams of sodium, 40 milligrams of potassium, 25 grams of carbohydrates, 1 grams of fiber, 18 grams of sugar, and less than 1 gram of protein.)

Other Mega Stuf Oreo reviews:
Junk Food Guy

Item: Nabisco Limited Edition Mega Stuf Oreo
Purchased Price: $2.98
Size: 13.2 ounces
Purchased at: Walmart
Rating: 7 out of 10
Pros: Classic Double Stuf Oreo taste is preserved. Crunchy chocolate cookie. More lickable filling than Double Stuf Oreos. Real world math applications. Making history.
Cons: Probably too sweet for some. Cookie has a tendency to shatter quite easily. Still not understanding the difference between ‘cream’ vs. ‘crème.’ Spelling “stuff” with only one “F.” Grumpy old people set in their cookie ways. Ten fewer Oreos per package than Double Stuf Oreos.

REVIEW: 7 Up Ten, A&W Root Beer Ten, Sunkist Ten

7 Up Ten, A&W Root Beer Ten, Sunkist Ten

According to basic high school chemistry, which I managed to somehow retain despite frequent non-approved nap breaks during 10th grade, a single gram of carbohydrates contains exactly four calories*.

*3.9 if you want to get all technical about it.

According to even simpler preschool math, I have also managed to remember (although in this case, I credit school-sponsored naps) one plus one equals two and four plus four equals eight. So with two grams of total carbohydrates, it’s perfectly reasonable to think the eight calories per can of the new 7 Up, and Sunkist low-calorie sodas would take on names like 7 Up Eight or Sunkist Eight. Likewise, you might think the folks at RootBeer.com would piggyback “Twelve” onto the end of the name for their new low calorie, three carbohydrate version of A&W Root Beer.

Except they didn’t, mostly on account of the FDA having this whole rounding thing going when it comes to calories, but also because saying you’re an “eight” is like wearing a pin that sports how moderately above average but not spectacular you are.

It makes sense when you think about it. I mean, when was the last time you bragged to your friends about scoring that “eight” at the bar or walked into an interview touting the fact that you earned the equivalent of a B- grade point average? Face it. An eight is like losing in the divisional round of the NFL playoffs. It’s not horrible, but nobody really cares or remembers. And 12? Don’t even get me started on 12. Hyperbole might be all well and good for cartoons, but when it comes to superlatives in my food, I can see right through that marketing fallacy.

So we’re left with rounding up on two new sodas and rounding down on one new soda to get us to the magic ten calories which give the new 7 Up Ten, Sunkist Ten, and A&W Ten sodas their names.

It’s not the first time a “Ten” soda has been released. Aside from their calorie (or lack thereof) content, the only thing the new flavors of “Ten” sodas have in common with the previously released Dr. Pepper Ten is that they’re owned by the same company. Otherwise, I would have pegged them as the last sodas to get an upgrade in flavor. Popular Coke or Pepsi products, or something otherwise legendary and iconic? I could see that. Who wouldn’t kill for a Cheerwine 10? But 7 Up, A&W, and Sunkist? This is like the cast of characters that come back for reality shows like Rachel Vs. Guy Celebrity Cooks. But considering this is the most play 7 Up has gotten since Spot Goes to Hollywood hit the Sega Saturn and the most love any flavor of orange soda has gotten since Kel Mitchell went all PG-13 on that bottle in All That, well, I guess it was time for something different.

7 Up Ten

I started with 7 Up Ten because that seemed like the soda that could be the least offensive of the three. Or as I like to say, boring. Go figure, boring is exactly how it tasted. It has your characteristic diet soda body in that it didn’t leave any syrupy sensation going down, and it lacked the “bite” or harshness which something like Sprite Zero or Diet Sierra Mist has. The carbonation meter on 7 Up is still on the wimpy side, while the taste lacks any zing or pizzazz or other onomatopoeic word you would use to describe soda. It’s terribly typical, and almost indiscernible from Diet 7 Up. I was not a fan.

Sunkist Ten

Next, I moved on to Sunkist Ten because the taste of 7 Up Ten left me feeling pretty plain about my soda drinking and because I thought it would help my self-esteem to be kist by the orange sun of celestial citrus goodness. Of course, I’ve had Diet Sunkist plenty of times in my life and have found it to be about as dull and exciting as getting kist by a grey sun peeking through the fog on a cloudy day.

Sunkist Ten, for some reason completely unexplainable to me, has a much greater intensity and brighter orange flavor than Diet Sunkist, putting it closer to our image of an actual sun kisting you. The carbonation walks the line of being just enough to give you a few quiet burps but not enough to make embarrass you at the office lunch meeting, while the sharper flavor of the orange and citrus do a much better job at covering up the harsh aftertaste of aspartame. Quite frankly, it’s about damn time we got low calorie orange soda that didn’t suck, and would give me cause to consider why someone like Kel Mitchell would kist it back.

A&W Ten

With two flavors of ten sodas down (that’s 16 calories, for those keeping track) I moved on to A&W Ten, which prides itself on having aged vanilla flavor.  I’m going to have to take their word for it because I don’t think I’ve ever had aged vanilla before, unless you count the pint of nine-month expired Ben and Jerry’s I once bought at a thrift grocery store.

I thought the taste was a moderate improvement over regular Diet A&W, with the actual liquid having a bit more body and the vanilla and sassafras flavor coming across as sharper and better defined. It’s a good low calorie root beer, although it’s still not nearly as good as Barq’s Zero, which has a serious bite and no calories, but is only available through Coke Freestyle machines. I don’t think they sell those in 12-packs though, so I consider A&W Ten an acceptable substitute for the time being.

The cynic in me wants to back up the assertion that making sodas out of two of the most hated ingredients – high fructose corn syrup and aspartame – isn’t going to please anyone in the regular soda vs. diet soda debate, and if I was going off of 7 Up Ten alone, I’d probably just tell you to buy regular Diet 7 Up or 7 Up depending on your preference.

But as I lifelong diet soda drinker who occasionally dabbles in the empty sugar rush of HFCS-sweetened beverages, I can say there’s a real improvement of flavor and body in both Sunkist and A&W Ten that makes them highly preferable to their zero calorie predecessors.

(Nutrition Facts – 12 ounces – 7Up Ten – 10 calories, 0 grams of fat, 45 milligrams of sodium, 2 grams of carbs, 2 grams of sugars, and 0 grams of protein. A&W Root Beer Ten – 10 calories, 0 grams of fat, 80 milligrams of sodium, 3 grams of carbs, 2 grams of sugars, and 0 grams of protein. Sunkist Ten – 10 calories, 0 grams of fat, 130 milligrams of sodium, 2 grams of carbs, 2 grams of sugars, and 0 grams of protein.)

Item: 7 Up Ten, A&W Root Beer Ten, Sunkist Ten
Purchased Price: 25 cents each
Size: 12 ounce cans
Purchased at: Safeway
Rating: 3 out of 10 (7 Up Ten)
Rating: 7 out of 10 (A&W Ten)
Rating: 8 out of 10 (Sunkist Ten)
Pros: Low calorie. Sunkist Ten is like being kist by the sun without the risk of skin cancer. Aged Vanilla in A&W Ten actually tastes more defined and sharper than in diet version. Busting out the Sega Saturn references. School sponsored naps.
Cons: None have heavy bite and carbonation that will get you through the first half of burping the alphabet. 7 Up Ten tastes just like Diet 7 Up. Contains a whole bunch of chemicals that the internet says will give me cancer. Still have Diet Soda body, and not the body you get from abstaining from regular soda, if you know what I mean.

REVIEW: Häagen-Dazs Cappuccino Gelato

Ha?agen-Dazs Cappuccino Gelato

The last time The Impulsive Buy reviewed a Häagen-Dazs product, fellow writer Jasper came up with a groundbreaking, but ridiculously simple hypothesis for why one of the company’s premium ice cream varieties has never received below a “7” score on a TIB review.

Let’s take a look back, shall we?
 

Häagen-Dazs routinely comes out with interesting and well-executed new products but, look, when your product’s primary ingredients are sugar and cream, you’re set up for success

I couldn’t agree more. Taking a look at your standard Häagen-Dazs container, you almost always see cream as the first ingredient listed, followed by skim milk and then sugar. To make things even richer, Häagen-Dazs also adds egg yolks to many flavors. But what happens when they pull the old switcheroo on the first two ingredients, adding more skim milk than cream, and then adding a little corn syrup to act as the main sweetener instead of sugar? While were at it, let’s just take out those yolks as well. What kind of machination of frozen dessert wizardry does that leave poor schmucks like me with?

Apparently something vaguely Italian. Don’t get me wrong. Häagen-Dazs’ new line of Gelato keeps with the gut-busting ethos of premium frozen dairy products that pack more than 200 calories per 1/2 cup serving, but seriously, by inverting the first two ingredients of their standard ice cream the company is taking the ice cream equivalent to a fall from the Majors to Single A. That’s a big gamble for something that promises a “taste of Italy” and comes in similar, if not identical, flavors as your standard ice cream. God knows I love a good pizza and could totally use some one-on-one kitchen pointers from Giada, but I was skeptical that this new line of frozen desserts could live up to its gourmet billing.

The new line of Gelato comes in seven flavors, but because my local Walmart isn’t exactly a café in the streets of Florence, only Vanilla Bean and Cappuccino were in stock. I chose the later, mostly because my stops into Walmart tend to occur before the sun rises, and I felt like getting a proper caffeine kick to compliment my breakfast of a Chick-fil-A Chicken Biscuit.

When judging frozen dairy, I like to borrow a page from Jasper’s playbook and apply the Pint Test. You may recall the Pint Test judges an ice cream/gelato’s quality on whether or not you would sacrifice your better health sense to finish the pint (or 14 oz. container) all in one sitting.

But I propose a corollary to the Pint Test. Any bastard with the willpower of a child in Toys “R” Us (like myself) can finish a pint on a hot summer day without thinking about it. The true test is whether or not someone like Jillian Michaels would finish a pint during a 14 degree morning after topping off a gargantuan church/fire department/community club sponsored breakfast of all-you-can-eat pancakes and sausage.

For that to happen, you know it’s good.

Unfortunately Jillian didn’t respond to my request for assistance in this review, but thanks to an 18 degree morning, I was able to capture an ethos that doesn’t exactly benefit gelato eating*.

Ha?agen-Dazs Cappuccino Gelato Closeup

I was expecting the kind of intense roasted espresso flavor one gets when shoving a handful of those chocolate covered espresso beans into one’s face, but I was instead greeted by a mellow coffee flavor and a milky-sweet taste. There’s a real freshness with each spoonful, thanks to the milk, but nothing else helped make it stand out beyond your standard coffee ice cream. If anything, the cappuccino “swirl” gives you inconsistent mouthfuls. Sometimes you’re getting a jolt of flavor, other times a whimper. 

Ha?agen-Dazs Cappuccino Gelato Spoon

The gelato was certainly smooth, but at the same time it lacked the frothy texture and almost whipped mouth feel that makes a cappuccino more than just espresso beans and milk. If anything, it reminded me of a condensed form of reduced fat ice cream, with the flavors dissipating rather than lingering (as an exceptionally rich ice cream would). The gelato melts quickly, and instead of holding its shape when scooped out, it sags back into a puddled indentation of sweetened cream, corn syrup, and yes, skim milk. My God, I just got a sickly but remarkably accurate image. This gelato develops old lady boobs. 

Jillian Michaels may not have been on hand to test my corollary to the Pint Test, but suffice to say, her iron will wouldn’t have crumbled beneath a few tasting spoonfuls. Make no mistake about it, there’s nothing particularly Italian about Häagen-Dazs’ venture into gelato, and nothing over-the-top or memorable about each spoonful.

It’s good, but so is every coffee ice cream I’ve ever had, many of which have not developed old lady boobs. I hate to be the guy who finally has to break the company’s impeccable record of product reviews here, but this is one Häagen-Dazs product which you won’t actually feel compelled to eat in one sitting.

*Despite outside photography, I didn’t actually eat said Gelato outside. That would have just been cold as balls.

(Nutrition Facts – 1/2 cup – 230 calories, 90 calories from fat, 10 grams of fat,62 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 90 milligrams of cholesterol, 45 milligrams of sodium, 32 grams of carbohydrates, 0 grams of fiber, 23 grams of sugar, 4 grams of protein, and 10% calcium)

Other Häagen-Dazs Gelato reviews:
Serious Eats
On Second Scoop

Item: Häagen-Dazs Cappuccino Gelato
Purchased Price: $3.86
Size: 14 ounces
Purchased at: Walmart
Rating: 5 out of 10
Pros: Clean and sweet coffee flavor. Smooth and creamy base with zero grit. Not finishing off an entire container and living with a day’s worth of self-disgust as you contemplate whether or not buying another pint is in order.
Cons: Not really a pint. Nothing exceptional or robust about the coffee flavor. Price per spoonful sucks. Cappuccino identity crisis. Melts too fast. Sags in your spoon like old lady boobs.

Scroll to Top