REVIEW: Dot’s Homestyle Pretzels Buffalo Seasoned Pretzel Twists

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Even though my weather app tells me it was 95 degrees this past weekend, the store shelves and the calendar tell me we’re in the thick of Pumpkin Spice season. Excessively seasoned pretzel purveyor Dot’s, however, didn’t get the message. Instead, it’s choosing to fight off the impending Autumnal chill with the tangy heat of a new Buffalo version of its popular twists.

When it comes to Dot’s, I’m mostly a purist. I’ve tried the Garlic Parmesan and the Honey Mustard, and while I enjoy both, the original is still my favorite. I’ll also posit that there’s always a bit of trepidation that accompanies taste-testing a new flavor; these things ain’t cheap, and if they’re bad, well, it’s hard knowing you could’ve had two bags of Doritos for the same price. (At least in Walmart money.)

So when I tried the first one, I thought to myself, “What the hell is this?” I was a bit let down. Like a punch-drunk boxer with a costly Faberge egg habit, however, I don’t know when to quit. And so I had another. And I went, “Hey, this is pretty okay.” And by the third, I was thinking, “Oh, wow, okay. This is nice.”

The “Buffalo” seasoning is all that it claims to be via the top of the packaging: “spicy ’n tangy.” The spice isn’t anything the weakest of spice wimps wouldn’t be able to handle, but it’s definitely noticeable. The vinegary punch of the buffalo seasoning really shines, though, and in classic Dot’s fashion, there’s plenty of coverage along the whole twist. There’s even something that evokes the tang of bleu cheese, but I think that’s just my overheated 95-degrees-in-the-middle-of-September imagination working overtime.

In the end, I really liked these. But having said that, I feel like I’ll only buy again if I can find them in the 5-ounce bag. A 16-ounce pouch is just a lot of Buffalo for an itch that a couple of servings can scratch.

Purchased Price: $6.17
Size: 16 oz pouch
Purchased at: Walmart
Rating: 7 out of 10
Nutrition Facts: (1 oz) 140 calories, 6 grams of fat, 0.5 gram of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 0 milligrams of cholesterol, 340 milligrams of sodium, 19 grams of carbohydrates, less than 1 gram of fiber, 0 grams of sugar, and 2 grams of protein.

REVIEW: King Krumb Cookies

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At some point in the last year or so, Walmart decided that it needed to attract a more highbrow clientele. No longer content with simply being the place to get into a fistfight in the flip-flop aisle or play “see who can grab the last can of Great Value ravioli first” with an online shopper, it introduced its “Bettergoods” line, sophisticated fare for a more discerning palate. The line has seemingly been met with good accolades— for the most part, at least from what I’ve seen on the internet— and I can attest to the enjoyability of the “wood-fired” pizza offerings. (Seriously— all of them are surprisingly legit.)

And although the new King Krumb Cookies (all I can think about is how the Simpsons dealt with inadvisable alliteration specifically as it pertained to “Klassic” episodes of Krusty’s “Komedy” show) are not branded as Bettergoods, they are another attempt at self-improvement. I have seen it posited that the KKCs are Walmart’s attempt at luring in customers of Crumbl, a popular national cookie chain. And that may be, but here’s the thing: Crumbl is Crumbl for a reason. Their cookies are large, chewy, soft, and taste freshly made. There is an endless variety of inventive flavors to ensure that hardcore Crumblrs (I made that up) come back with each new fun release and/or seasonal return. The order size is customizable, from a single cookie to a 12-pack, ensuring that you can give yourself a treat or impress a small gathering (or, you know, get the 12-pack yourself and spend a weekend filling yourself with sugar and self-loathing).

On that same token, Walmart is Walmart for a reason, and its King Krumb’s are not Crumbl. They are big, and… well, that’s about where the comparison ends. There are three varieties, and they come in packs of two. For this review, I went with the two-pack featuring Decadent Chocolate Chunk (DCC) and Triple Chocolate Fudge (TCF) (The DCC is also paired with a Confetti Birthday Cake version.)

Upon my first bite of the DCC cookie, my first thought was Chips Ahoy because that’s exactly what it tasted like— a chewy Chips Ahoy. It was, put in the simplest possible way, a generic chocolate chip cookie. The TCF was a little better straight out of the box, set apart by a distinctly fudgy undertone. The box suggests wrapping them in a paper towel and microwaving for 20 seconds. Never one to disobey a box— and as a firm proponent of warm cookies— I did just this. And while it DID make each cookie considerably more enjoyable, it also turned them both into soggy, nearly impossible to eat messes. Even still, the improvement bump from microwaving did little to set them apart from any of Walmart’s other pre-packaged bakery cookies.

In the end, this feels like just another stretch in Walmart’s effort to make themselves something that they’re not. They’d be better served leaving big, warm cookies to the Insomnias and Crumbls of the world.

Purchased Price: $5.97
Purchased at: Walmart
Rating: Decadent Chocolate Chunk 6 out of 10, Triple Chocolate Fudge 7 out of 10
Nutrition Facts: (1/3rd cookie) DCC – 220 calories, 11 grams of fat, 5 grams of saturated fat, 0 gram of trans fat, 5 milligrams of cholesterol, 150 milligrams of sodium, 33 grams of carbohydrates, 1 gram of fiber, 21 grams of sugar, and 3 grams of protein, TCF – 220 calories, 10 grams of fat, 4.5 grams of saturated fat, 0 gram of trans fat, 5 milligrams of cholesterol, 115 milligrams of sodium, 30 grams of carbohydrates, 2 gram of fiber, 19 grams of sugar, and 3 grams of protein

REVIEW: Cheetos Flamin’ Hot Cheddar BBQ

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Some BBQ purists are disgusted by the inclusion of cheese with BBQ. I come from the undisputed BBQ capital of the world (take a hike, Texas) and disagree with this sentiment. A nicely melted slice of cheddar does wonders on a burger featuring BBQ sauce. One of the most popular menu items from one of the best BBQ spots in my city (and so, by default, one of the best BBQ places in the world) is the “Z-Man,” a sandwich featuring smoked, sliced brisket, onion rings, a dab of BBQ sauce, and a beautifully smoked slice of provolone cheese all on a Kaiser roll.

So, what I’m saying is that cheese and BBQ are a winning flavor combination, and you can’t convince me otherwise.

It was with this in mind that I had high hopes for the new Flamin’ Hot BBQ Cheddar Cheetos. Well, except for the fact that I never eat Cheetos. It’s not that I don’t like them — it just never crosses my mind to buy them. Oh sure, if I’m on a gently swaying pontoon under a blistering summer sun, and you hand me a bag, I’ll dabble. But left to my own devices in the snack aisle, nine times out of ten, I’m choosing either some sort of Doritos or a potato chip. However, if Frito Lay keeps these around, that may change.

Everything is upfront with these crunchy little curls of deliciousness — the heat, the rich cheddar flavor, the mildly sweet tang of the BBQ sauce, and there’s even a noticeable smokiness that imbues within each piece a degree of unexpected complexity. There is no nuance here — you get what you get in each bite and I appreciate that.

I also appreciate the uniformity. We all know that not every Dorito is created equal; while some triangles are coated with a thick dust of powder, others are as dry as a recently Lasik’d eye. With these Cheetos (and maybe it’s all Cheetos? I may need to dig a little), every bite is as fulfilling as the bite before, and there’s a commodity in the known. I was also surprised by the seemingly muted heat. I’ve had “Flamin’ Hot” things before, and I often find it a stupid heat — hot for the sake of hot. I’m not sure if the smoky BBQ cheesiness balanced these out or what because although there was a nice, mild burn, it wasn’t aggressive or obnoxious.

If you’re an anti-cheesian with regard to BBQ, these may not be for you. But if you hold no such prejudice, or you’re at least open to experimentation, I’d highly recommend snagging a bag of these when you see them. I don’t think you’ll regret it.

Purchased Price: $4.43
Size: 8.5 oz bag
Purchased at: Walmart
Rating: 8 out of 10
Nutrition Facts: (28g) 150 calories, 10 grams of fat, 1.5 gram of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 0 milligrams of cholesterol, 140 milligrams of sodium, 16 grams of carbohydrates, less than 1 gram of fiber, less than 1 gram of sugar, and 2 grams of protein.

REVIEW: Ragu Supreme Pizza

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When I first stumbled upon the new Ragu Frozen Pizza at a local grocery store, my first thought was, “Oh, now why is this a thing?” A random couple standing nearby echoed my confusion. The guy said, “Honey, look— Ragu frozen pizza.” To which the lady replied, “Um, nasty. No.”

And, like, I get it. Though the idea of the world’s most popular (or second most popular? I don’t know how Ragu stacks up against Prego, sales-wise) jarred spaghetti sauce putting its pizza sauce on a frozen pizza shouldn’t be repulsive, it is a little — pardon the pun — jarring. But the thing is, this is actually a Palermo’s pizza product.

If you’re not familiar with Palermo’s Pizza, well, actually you are, I promise. You’ve probably seen — if not eaten — either a Screamin’ Sicilian, a Connie’s, an Urban Pie, a Surfer Boy (lo of the Stranger Things tie-in), or, god forbid, the recently released Cheez-It Pizza. I’ve had and enjoyed many Screamin’ Sicilian pizzas (they used to have some great specialty ones), and a couple of the Urban Pies and the Surfer Boy pies generally receive pretty favorable reviews. The point is there’s a decent track record.

But, so, what does the Ragu bring to the table in this engagement? Is whatever it adds any better (or worse) than standard frozen pizza sauce?

The new Ragu Pizzas come in four flavors — Cheese, Combination (Italian sausage and pepperoni), Pepperoni, and Supreme (Italian sausage, pepperoni, green, yellow and red peppers, onion, and black olives) — and all are served on “a flaky, pizzeria-style crust.” Weirdly enough, they make sure to call out that all use a “Ragu-inspired” sauce, and not just, you know, Ragu. Interesting distinction! For this review, I tried the Supreme.

This was one of the most boring, uninspired frozen pizzas I’ve ever had. It wasn’t bad; it wasn’t good. It was utterly unforgettable. The crust was bland, of medium thickness, and devoid of any real flavor. The cheese was the same. The toppings were standard, mid-tier frozen pizza fare; I didn’t notice any punch from the onions or peppers — they were mostly just mushy. The pepperoni and sausage chunks were salty and chewy. I think the whole thing had, like, five black olives on it. Ho-hum. But what about the star of the show, the Ragu-inspired sauce? It was… there. It tasted red. It was a little sweet, I guess, but not oppressively so. It was, in a word, generic.

And really, that’s the tale of this pie: the most generic-tasting frozen pizza I’ve had in quite some time. I wouldn’t buy one again; with 8,000 frozen pizza alternatives available — some of which are actually good — there’s no point in this one existing. Sorry, Palermo’s. Better luck next time. (PS. How about “next time” means bringing back the Screamin’ Sicilian that had jalapeños and bacon and chicken with a ranch sauce? That thing was worth buying.)

Purchased Price: $5.99
Size: 23.15 oz
Purchased at: Hy-Vee
Rating: 4 out of 10
Nutrition Facts: (1/5th pizza) 320 calories, 16 grams of fat, 6 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 30 milligrams of cholesterol, 680 milligrams of sodium, 32 grams of carbohydrates, 2 grams of fiber, 3 grams of sugar, and 12 grams of protein.

REVIEW: Limited Edition Miller Lite Beer Pringles (Grilled Beer Brat, Beer-Braised Steak, and Beer Can Chicken)

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It’s almost Memorial Day, aka the unofficial start of Summer, aka prime grilling season (you know, if you’re the type to relegate your outdoor meat cooking to only one particular time of year).

In the spirit of the season, Pringles is teaming up with Miller Lite beer to bring a few different types of beer-inspired grilled meat potato crisps to store shelves: Grilled Beer Brat, Beer-Braised Steak, and Beer Can Chicken. (If you’ve never had beer can chicken, it’s where you stick an opened can of beer up a chicken’s butt before grilling it, ostensibly to… infuse the chicken meat with the essence of beer? It doesn’t actually make it taste like beer in my experience. Maybe it keeps the chicken moist, I’m no food scientist.) Anyway, although I don’t drink beer nowadays, I DO eat Pringles — and chicken, brats, and steak — so I tried all three.

Beer Can Chicken: The worst of the bunch. Not bad, but not good. Very neutral, in other words. These tasted like regular Pringles, honestly, that were maybe just a little… off. I heard someone online suggest that they tasted like chicken ramen packets, and someone else excitedly agreed, but I didn’t get that sense AT ALL. A Pringle flavored with chicken ramen seasoning would have been much better (though probably not accurate for Beer Can Chicken and chicken ramen seasoning Pringles have already been done). I found myself tired of these after two crisps.

Beer-Braised Steak: Interesting, and better than the BCC, but I wasn’t in love with these, either. There was definitely more of a meaty essence with these — even, dare I say, steak-meat — and a decent charcoal hint at the beginning, but it felt like it was all right up front on the chip, with no nuance or longer-lasting flavor.

Grilled Beer Brat: The best of the bunch, if only because it felt the truest to its intention. Though I still didn’t get any “beer” flavoring, this one nicely mimicked an actual grilled brat. My only complaint was the same as with the Beer-Braised Steak version — the flavoring could’ve used a little more oomph. All of the seasoning seemed to be at the beginning of the tasting, and I didn’t really feel like it warranted eating a bunch to get that good initial taste.

Because I wanted to know if I could trust my taste buds — and the Pringles food scientists to get it right — I blind taste tested each to see if I could pick out which one was which. The Chicken’s blandness was unmistakable — I guessed it on my first go-round. The other two took a bit more work. I initially mixed up which was which, but after having about three of each, I got them correct. Additionally, I tested them on my daughter, who went in with zero knowledge of the intended flavors. She thought the Chicken was “regular Pringles,” Steak was “garlic,” and Brat was “mint.” She also declared that she didn’t like any of them, and was scandalized that I tried to give her beer. Kids, am I right?

Purchased Price: $2.00 (each)
Size: 5.5 oz cans
Purchased at: Walmart
Rating: 5 out of 10 (Chicken), 6 out of 10 (Steak), 7 out of 10 (Brat)
Nutrition Facts: (14 Crisps) 150 calories, 9 grams of fat, 2.5 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 0 milligrams of cholesterol, 170 milligrams of sodium Brat/Steak 180 milligrams of sodium Chicken, 17 grams of carbohydrates, less than 1 gram of fiber, 0 grams of total sugars, and 1 gram of protein.

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