Reviews – Page 508 – The Impulsive Buy

REVIEW: Great Value Late Night Cravings Double Decker Chicken & Bacon Sandwich

Marvo / September 7, 2016 / Reviews / 2 Comments

Great Value’s Late Night Cravings Double Decker Chicken & Bacon Sandwich looks like it belongs under the heat lamp at a gas station convenience store. The KFC Double Down-inspired sandwich features smoke-flavored bacon and American cheese between two breaded crispy chicken breast patties.

After microwaving it, cheese oozed out from almost every angle and down onto the plate. The sandwich’s cheesiness is because there are actually three slices of American cheese stuck together to make it look like one. BONUS!

With every bite there’s a little bit of everything initially — some seasoning from the chicken patty’s breading, a bit of smokiness from the bacon, and a little tang from the cheese. But that gets shoved aside by a wave of saltiness.

My dogs, who like to lick my arms after a run, would say this sandwich is way too salty. One has over 2,000 milligrams of sodium. The KFC Double Down is a healthier option with 1,380 milligrams of sodium. Yes, I just typed the words “KFC Double Down is a healthier option” and you are not in a bizarro dimension.

With every bite, all I could think of was salt. Salt shakers. Salty sea water. A horse salt lick. The Morton’s Salt Girl. Veruca Salt. Salt from Salt-N-Pepa. I’ve had fast food burgers with more than 2,000 milligrams of sodium, but they didn’t taste as salty as this sandwich. But, let’s be honest, it shouldn’t be surprising the combination of breaded chicken, three cheese slices, and bacon would create culinary salt lick.

But there’s more to complain about than its saltiness. The chicken patties along their edges were as dry as stale bread; it’s pricey for just two small sandwiches; and its microwave instructions are more complex than they should be. It involves taking apart the sandwich, heating just the chicken, reassembling the sandwich, heating the whole thing, and letting it stand for a minute to cool and to allow you say “YOLO” or push aside any doubts, regrets, or doctor’s warnings.

If there’s one major plus it’s the addition of the paper sleeve with each sandwich. I thought it was for crisping the chicken in the microwave, but it’s just a plain paper one to help hold the sandwich as I ate it, since the “bread” is freshly microwaved chicken patties.

But a courteous attachment isn’t enough for me to recommend the Great Value Late Night Cravings Double Decker Chicken & Bacon Sandwich.

(Nutrition Facts – 1 sandwich – 610 calories, 380 calories from fat, 42 grams of fat, 15 grams of saturated fat, 0.5 grams of trans fat, 11 grams of polyunsaturated fat, 13 grams of monounsaturated fat, 115 milligrams of cholesterol, 2090 milligrams of sodium, 280 milligrams of potassium, 27 grams of carbohydrates, 1 gram of fiber, 1 gram of sugar, and 34 grams of protein.)

Purchased Price: $6.44
Size: 2 sandwiches
Purchased at: Walmart
Rating: 4 out of 10
Pros: Paper sleeve included to prevent burnt fingers. A flash of decent flavor with every bite.
Cons: Salty. Pricey. Salty. Dry chicken patties. Salty. Its microwave instructions. Salty. Too much cheese. Salty.

REVIEW: Totino’s Supreme Stuffed Nachos (2016)

Brandon / September 7, 2016 / Reviews / 8 Comments

If ramen noodles are the Usain Bolt of cheap eats for students, drunkards and poor folks the world over, then Totino’s is surely…whoever happens to be the second fastest guy in the world.

Okay, now some of what I’m going to say will sound made up, but unless Wikipedia is riddled with errors (which has never happened), this is the God’s honest: Totino’s was founded in Minneapolis in 1951 (!) by Rose and Jim Totino (!!) as a take-out pizza joint (!!!). They eventually expanded to a full-service restaurant (!!!!) that finally shuttered its doors in 2011 (!@#$%!!).

I know, right?

Anyway, in 1993, Pillsbury-owned Jeno’s pizza rolls (first created by Jeno Paulucci in 1968 as “an egg roll filled with pizza ingredients”), were rebranded as Totino’s, and the rest is history.

If you are alive, and human, you have had a Totino’s Party Pizza (the idea of throwing a party involving Totino’s never ceases to make me laugh). You have also had Totino’s Pizza Rolls.

The “pizza” is by no means a real pizza; now, that’s not to say it’s bad. It is a small, crispy disk of bread-like material covered with an amalgamation of hydrogenated oil-based cheese substitutes, flavorless ketchup, and salt-bits masquerading as various types of meat toppings. It regularly retails for $1.39 in my area, and can often be found as a 10/$10 deal.

It has its place as a late-night regret.

It is also a wildly successful brand, producing 240 MILLION discs per year.

So it is no wonder that they would also try to corner the market on another beloved American institution, the frozen, pocket-based delicacy. Not that this is their first attempt. The ORIGINAL Stuffed Nacho from Totino’s was introduced in 1996 and then discontinued, leaving a trail of heartbroken and hungry snack aficionados in the wake.

The Totino’s Stuffed Nacho is a triangle pizza roll filled with nacho-inspired ingredients. For the sake of this review, I went with the “supreme” variation. The box promised me “taco seasoned chicken and beef pizza topping, red bell peppers, jalapeños and cheddar cheese rolls in a crispy crust.”

The first thing you should know is that you can’t taste ANY of it. There was no heat from the jalapeño, no sweet tang from a red bell pepper, no possible way a chicken ever saw the killing room floor. There may have been cheese, but only in the way that we know God loves us.

The shell was different from a standard pizza roll in that it was corn-tasting. Not in an ACTUAL corn tortilla respect — and not even in a corn chip way — but in the way that Nestle manages to conjure a vague corn-ambiance from its Beef Taco Hot Pockets effort.

The beef too was not unlike the aforementioned BTHP. It was a chewy approximation of meat, but if you received something like it anywhere other than here (Taco Bell included), you’d curse out the proprietor and demand a refund. It has that signature taco taste, though, achieved through “spice” (a real ingredient on the label), as well as onion and garlic powders.

Anyway, does this taste like an elf in the Totino’s factory magically impregnated a pizza roll with a plate of delicious nachos? Not a chance.

Would I buy them again, however? Eh, maybe. They seriously weren’t awful — in the same way that pizza rolls and Totino’s pizza discs aren’t awful. But at $4.59 (!) for a 34 count box (NOBODY NEEDS THAT MANY OF THESE THINGS!!), it’s prohibitively expensive. You know, for the target demographic: students, vagabonds, and drunks.

(Nutrition Facts – 6 rolls – 220 calories, 70 calories from fat, 8 grams of fat, 2 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 10 milligrams of cholesterol, 420 milligrams of sodium, 29 grams of carbohydrates, 1 gram of dietary fiber, 2 grams of sugar, and 7 grams of protein.)

Purchased Price: $4.59
Size: 17.4 oz box
Purchased at: Hy-Vee
Rating: 4 out of 10
Pros: Vague taco qualities. You don’t have to think much about it. Nice face-stuffing quotient
Cons: Pretty one-note. Idea of “nacho pocket” isn’t a bad one, but execution on this offering lacks. Per Wikipedia, Consumer Reports rated Totino’s as “only fair for nutrition.” Because, duh.

Frozen Food Totino's

REVIEW: Hostess Limited Edition Caramel Apple Cupcakes

Margaret / September 5, 2016 / Reviews / 6 Comments

I love festivals.

I can’t help it.

I haven’t encountered a pig race, funhouse, or merry-go-round I don’t enjoy. Bring on your strong man contests, your ring tosses, your wooden roller coasters of questionable integrity. Why, between the bells, balloon animals, and clinkity clank music, there’s enough joy here to make a circus look like a film noir.

So it should come of no surprise that I was drawn to these Hostess Caramel Apple Cupcakes. I always, always, always make a moment of having caramel apples at Fall Festivals. I once consumed five of them before going into the corn maze, where I proceeded to get lost for three hours…BUT I survived! All credit goes to caramel apples.

Out of the gate, these cupcakes are lookin’ fine. There are smells of cider, crackles of caramel frosting, and red squiggles, all squished in an authentic “I got shipped in a truck and thrown on a shelf” way. Everything is perfect. Resistance is futile.

And, ladies and gentlemen, this is one peculiar cupcake. It’s admirably different, in its own pudgy, small, charming way. There’s the spongy, floury cake, which has bits of woodsy, warm cinnamon and some sort of tanginess that feels like a moderate hint-and-nudge toward the apple, although it speaks more toward a blend of the formerly mentioned cider and melted Jolly Ranchers.

Next up to bat is the crackly top glaze, which tastes of honey and caramel and molasses and vanilla and the burnt top of crème brulée all smooshed together. It’s like an unpaid syrup-harvesting intern got lost in the woods and decided to mix all the sugars. It’s confusing and brilliant, much like interns themselves.

And then there’s the caramel filling. In a color that’s not nearly as terrifyingly brown as the cover portrays, it seems Hostess has repurposed the light, extremely sugary caramel fluff from the Sea Salt Caramel Cupcakes and smashed it in here. Fluffy and sugar-forward, this stuff is less discreet than a mammoth in the knitting aisle. Its strong blast of Cool-Whip-like sugariness levels out the cinnamon of the cake quite nicely. Between these fluffy insides and the caramel-frosted top, caramel becomes the star of the show.

Just one thing: what happened to the apple?? Sure, there was that Jolly Rancher cider thing, but it came without chunks. It came without dices. It came without nibbles, pieces, or slices. What a tragedy. The cake could’ve benefited from a Hulk smash of tart apples. Even real applesauce or apple juice would do. This hint of flavoring? Would make an apple-loving Hulk cry. Don’t make Hulk cry!

But let us not dwell on the tears of giants. As it seems to go, the simplest pattern for my enjoying something usually goes 2 moments of curiosity + 1 dose lack of self-control x 8 tons of the positive or negative feedback on tastiness, and these? Are good. The cake is soft and cinnamony, the crackly frosted top stays true to its caramel name, and the inner frosting is a delicious, crazy sweet fluff, and, if you close your eyes and make a wish, it all has a slight echo of something apple-y (although you have to wish really, really hard). Can these be a little too sweet sometimes? Are they a little unbalanced? Would I like to see more apples? Sure, but, on the whole, these cupcakes are peculiar and delightful.

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to eat five of them and go find a corn maze I can get lost in.

(Nutrition Facts – 1 Cupcake – 160 calories, 50 calories from fat, 6 grams of fat, 2.5 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 5 milligrams of cholesterol, 210 milligrams of sodium, 26 grams of carbohydrates, 1 gram of dietary fiber, 18 grams of sugar, and 1 gram of protein.)

Purchased Price: $2.99
Size: 1 box/8 cakes
Purchased at: Target
Rating: 8 out of 10
Pros: Soft, cinnamony cake. Crackly caramel frosting top. Fluffy, sweet insides. Syrup-harvesting interns gone amok. Corn mazes. Roller coasters of questionable integrity.
Cons: Where be the apples, yo? Questionable presence of “Hydrogenated beef tallow.” May make Hulk cry. Getting lost in a corn maze for three hours.

Hostess

REVIEW: Quaker Limited Edition Pumpkin Spice Life Cereal

Kyle / September 2, 2016 / Reviews / 2 Comments

Let me be honest with you all – I think I’m basic.

Each year I eagerly anticipate the arrival of the cool autumn air and the changing of the leaves. Fall brings with it an excuse to wear my large collection of flannel shirts, strap on my boots (they’re not Uggs….yet), and head out to the countryside to pay extra money to pick my own apples that end up being smaller than anything I could buy at the grocery store.

And while some folks may believe that apple cinnamon is the quintessential fall flavor of choice, I am here to proclaim my love for anything and everything that is pumpkin spice. Sure, the latte has run through my veins from September through November in the past, but the grocery aisles have been my go-to for orangey and spicey products in recent years. 2015 brought us pumpkin spice kale chips (for basic vegans), pumpkin spice eggnog (for basic holiday combiners), and even pumpkin spice vodka (for basic drunks), and if you’ve read TIB in the past few weeks, you know that 2016 is shaping up to offer even more nutmeggy goodness.

As such, I jumped at the opportunity to review Pumpkin Spice Life Cereal. To be honest, I found it hard to believe that such a classic cereal would get on the pumpkin spice train, but the more the merrier. Next stop, my mouth. CHOO CHOO!

Life was never my first choice of cereal as a kid. I mean, when you’re competing with Cap’n Crunch and Count Chocula, a picture of wheat squares on the box wasn’t really appealing. As I grew older and wiser, my palette learned to appreciate Life and its cooler younger brother, Cinnamon Life. I eagerly dove into Pumpkin Spice Life, hoping that I’d be able to welcome it to the family with open arms.

Upon opening the box, I was concerned that I’d mistakenly grabbed a box of traditional Life in error. Pumpkin Spice Life is relatively dull in the package, even though the box screams OMG THERE’S FALL IN HERE. The cereal offers nothing that will remind you of a pumpkin pie baking in the oven or the colors of the changing leaves. In fact, I was only able to discern any sort of cinnamon or nutmeg scent when I brought a spoonful of cereal right under my nose, and it was a very weak smell at that.

My bites of the cereal were similarly bland. The flavor of Pumpkin Spice Life, like regular Life, is very grain heavy, with notes of oats and wheat at the forefront. The tastes of cinnamon and nutmeg are only faintly evident, but become amped up with the inclusion of milk. A word to the wise though – once you add milk, you’ll need to finish your bowl quickly, lest you enjoy cereal that is the consistency of mashed potatoes.

The best part about pumpkin spice flavored products is that they typically bring a strong punch of cinnamon, nutmeg, and allspice right from the beginning. You want to feel like you’ve been slapped in the face with your Thanksgiving dessert spread, and Pumpkin Spice Life isn’t going to give you any of that. Unless you’re a fan of muted fall flavors, I don’t suggest you play the game of Pumpkin Spice Life.

(Nutrition Facts – 3/4 cup – 120 calories, 15 calories from fat, 1.5 grams of fat, 0 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 0 milligrams of cholesterol, 160 milligrams of sodium, 25 grams of carbohydrates, 6 grams of sugar, 3 grams of protein.)

Purchased Price: $2.99
Size: 13 oz box
Purchased at: Star Market
Rating: 3 out of 10
Pros: Witty board game references. Good for fans of regular Life. Flannel shirts worn unironically.
Cons: Hey Mikey, he hates it! Barely discernible pumpkin spice flavor. Mushy in milk.

Cereal Life Cereal

REVIEW: Limited Edition Cinnamon Donut Chewy Chips Ahoy Cookies

Dan / September 1, 2016 / Reviews / 2 Comments

The judge pounds his gavel: “I hereby call this court to order. Today we’ll handle the case of Dan vs. Nabisco. The prosecutor may present his case.”

I’ve decided to represent myself. No lawyer would understand: “Your honor, I’m suing Nabisco’s new Chewy Cinnamon Donut Chips Ahoy! cookies for their misleading packaging design.”

The judge looks at me, as I rustle through my bag and spew crumbs onto the courtroom floor: “If you’re suing them, why are you still eating the accused cookies?”

I roar to life, passionately spraying another projectile sandstorm of sugary cinnamon crumbs across the room: “Because I expected so much more!

“Ladies, gentlemen, and anthropomorphized snack food mascots of the court, I love these Cinnamon Donut Chips Ahoy! cookies. In fact, I love them so much that they’re probably the best limited edition cookies I’ve tasted in years. But it’s the ones we love the most that end up hurting us.

“I present Exhibit A: a package of these backstabbing cookies. Aside from the massive cinnamon donut on the front — which doesn’t actually appear inside — the primary offenders here are the ‘Limited Edition’ leaves. You see, my mind has been conditioned by Mrs. Buttersworth to equate orange and yellow leaves with maple syrup flavoring.

“So imagine my shock and disgust when these Cinnamon Donut cookies contained no maple flavoring whatsoever. All they had was a whole lot of deliciously doughy, buttery, and bakery-fresh donut flavor!

“But the lies don’t stop there. These disks roped me in with an authentically decadent cider mill aroma, but they don’t even look like real cider donuts! Where are the buxom, golden fried curves? Where’s the coyly puckered hole in the middle?

“They’re both gone and replaced by a granular, hyper-chewy texture that melts in my mouth like half-baked pastry dough. And don’t get me wrong, your honor, these cookies taste like cider donut dough, too. The buttered and browned base is both sugary and eggy, with sweet bursts of cake flour.

“But the apple and cinnamon donut-flavored chips suckered me in for the long con, trying to distract me from Nabisco’s shamelessly maple-free fraud. See, these creamy chips are like coagulated cones of cream cheese glaze. They explode with flavor like a Cinnabon center stuffed with applesauce!

“Their inconsistency betrays them, though. These cookie con men will sometimes lose their subtle apple taste, and sometimes they’ll taste like waxy, floral ‘Fall Harvest’ scented candles from Bath & Body Works. Heck, a couple times I even swore they tasted like pumpkin cheesecake.

“So yes, your honor, Cinnamon Donut Chips Ahoy! are great limited edition snack cookies. They have all the goodness of raw sugar cookie dough without the salmonella, and all the goodness of a cider mill without the handsy haunted house workers.

“However, it’s tough to justify buying them over real apple cider donuts, unless you’re a maple-loving masochist or the type of person who can’t finish a dozen donuts without them going stale. Because at the end of the day, these Cinnamon Donut Chips Ahoy! aren’t donuts. They’re merely cookies wearing donut Halloween costumes.

“And that, your honor, is both their gift and their true crime.”

The judge, clearly affected by my plight, wipes away a single tear: “I declare Cinnamon Donut Chips Ahoy! cookies guilty, for covering up their felony of syrup deception behind a thick alibi of deliciousness. How would the defendant like to see them executed?”

I pull out my thermos and pour a hot cup of coffee. I’ve already known the answer to that question for days.

(Nutrition Facts – 2 cookies – 130 calories, 50 calories from fat, 5 grams of fat, 3 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 0 milligrams of cholesterol, 85 milligrams of sodium, 15 milligrams of potassium, 21 grams of carbohydrates, 0 grams of dietary fiber, 12 grams of sugar, and less than 1 gram of protein..)

Purchased Price: $2.49
Size: 9.5 oz package
Purchased at: Meijer
Rating: 8 out of 10
Pros: Authentic cinnamon donut pantomime. An edible trip to the cider mill in late summer. The first ever complimentary use of the word “coagulated.” Coming soon from The Impulsive Buy: 12 Angry Kool-Aid Men!
Cons: Not maple-flavored. Playing for second place against real donuts.. Unexpected Yankee Candle flavor outbursts. Sobbing and bobbing for more apple flavor. A criminal lack of corrugated, scrunched-up donut holes.

Chips Ahoy Cookies Nabisco

REVIEW: Great Value Late Night Cravings Double Decker Chicken & Bacon Sandwich

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REVIEW: Totino’s Supreme Stuffed Nachos (2016)

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REVIEW: Hostess Limited Edition Caramel Apple Cupcakes

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REVIEW: Quaker Limited Edition Pumpkin Spice Life Cereal

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REVIEW: Limited Edition Cinnamon Donut Chewy Chips Ahoy Cookies

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