REVIEW: Arby’s Meat Mountain

Arby's Meat Mountain

Not since the Carl’s Jr. and Hardee’s Most American Thickburger – or maybe that one Pizza Hut variation that had pigs-in-a-blanket as the crust – has there been a fast food offering as audacious as Arby’s Meat Mountain.

So monstrous this tribute to American ingenuity/gluttony that the cashier actually ASKED me if I was serious when I ordered it. In fact, I had to tell her “yes” no less than three times before she rang up the purchase.

You remember those old episodes of Scooby Doo when Shaggy would get the munchies and come marching out of the kitchen with a towering sandwich filled with who-knows-what all the way to the ceiling? Well, that’s pretty much what Meat Mountain is. Underneath one greasy star-cut bun, you get all of the following ingredients: angus beef, cheddar cheese, chicken tenders, corned beef, pepper bacon, pit-smoked ham, roast beef, roast turkey, smoked brisket, and Swiss cheese.

So basically, it’s like eating Noah’s Ark in sandwich form. It’s a 1,000-calories plus behemoth that doesn’t even fit in the company’s stock wrappers – my order came in a wadded up ball of wax paper that, folded out on the table, came out to nearly two feet in length.

In that, I suppose Meat Mountain is more of a limited-time-challenge than a limited-time-offering. You don’t eat it for the pleasurable gustatory sensation, you eat it because it’s a direct threat to your manhood (or womanhood.) One does not simply review Meat Mountain; rather, one seeks to survive it.

Not that it’s a surprise to anybody, but the sandwich is definitely a hassle to eat. It’s so big you really can’t fit your mouth around it without taking out a layer or two of meat first, so you may find yourself tearing chunks of Meat Mountain apart instead of shoveling it down your throat (let’s call that one the velociraptor technique.)

Does the medley of meats come together harmoniously? Not really, but it’s still pretty awesome. It’s not so much the divergent tastes of the product that’s weird as it is the alternating textures. One bite it’s crunchy and a little spicy, the next it’s sinewy and chewy and just a wee bit soggy. That said, getting a mouthful of cow, chicken, pig and turkey all at once does make you feel like a khakis-clad T-Rex, and ultimately, that’s the feeling you’re paying $10 for.

One look at this thing and you’ll know right away whether or not you can handle it. Just one word of caution for all you iron-stomached adventurers out there, who think you’re ready to go napkin to napkin with this mammoth burger: while the sandwich isn’t as oily as you’d expect, it is unbelievably salty, packing a whopping 3,000-plus milligrams of sodium. So be sure you have a cola nearby before tackling this beastly creation – or at the very least, a sizable armada of Arby’s sauces.

(Nutrition Facts – 1,030 calories, 460 calories from fat, 51 grams of total fat, 20 grams of saturated fat, 1.5 grams of trans fat, 225 milligrams of cholesterol, 3,640 milligrams of sodium, 58 grams of total carbohydrates, 2 grams of dietary fiber, 8 grams of sugars, 87 grams of protein.)

Purchased Price: $10
Size: N/A
Rating: 8 out of 10
Pros: Being able to eat an entire barnyard in one sitting. The feeling of savory, crispy bacon dancing next to corned beef on your tongue. Dipping your turkey-chicken-beef-ham-bacon sammich into a pool of horseradish-pepper-ketchup-and-honey-mustard sauce and realizing what it’s like to be the king of all existence for a few fleeting seconds.
Cons: EVERYTHING is super-duper-extra-salty. Some of the meats don’t gel together well at all. The look on the cashier’s face when you ask if it comes in a vegan-friendly version.

REVIEW: Little Caesars Smokehouse Pizza

It’s surprisingly easy comparing the big four of American pizza chains to the big four of 1980s thrash metal bands. Pizza Hut is Metallica, so that makes Domino’s Megadeth by default. And since Papa John’s is Anthrax (because when both go wrong, they go horribly wrong), that must make Little Caesars the fast food equivalent of Slayer.

And much the same way Slayer has consistently been the heaviest and fastest of those bands, so has Little Caesars been the heaviest and fastest of the pizza pie big four. Seriously, what’s heavier and faster than a HOT-N-READY bacon-wrapped DEEP! DEEP! Dish pizza, anyway?

Well, the newfangled Smokehouse Pizza is pretty much the musical equivalent of Slayer releasing a bluegrass album. On the surface, it doesn’t sound even remotely feasible, but then you realize, “Hey, the instruments may be different, but this stuff is STILL really heavy and fast. Just the way I like it.”

And yes, this super savory meat-a-palooza pie is pretty spectacular. Little Caesars did not skimp out on the fix-ins, as the cacophony of brisket, bacon, and pulled pork gels incredibly well. The high-quality meat is certainly smoky and savory, and you get an absolute ton of it piled atop your pizza.

While each variety of meat maintains a distinct taste and texture, the medley of flavors blends together nicely. No one meat becomes too dominant on your tastebuds – thanks in no small part to the delicious barbecue sauce base, which does a bang-up job tying everything together.

The mozzarella and Muenster mix, however, was a bit underwhelming. With so much meat on the pie, there really needs to be an extra handful of cheese on this thing, lest the dairy flavorings literally be buried.

The biggest problem with the pizza, however, has to be the superfluous mesquite seasonings on the crust. Basically, it tastes like BBQ potato chip dust, and moving from a very authentic barbecue flavor to a very synthetic tasting one definitely lessens the experience. It’s also an extremely messy pizza, so be mindful if you decide to tackle this bad boy while wearing your Sunday best.

Still, the Smokehouse Pizza is unique and flavorful enough to warrant at least one taste test. For just $9 you are getting a colossal amount of food, and the overall quality of the meat is likely to surprise you.

Be forewarned, though: as any veteran BBQ enthusiast will tell you, ingesting enough BBQ sauce-slathered pork and beef in quick intervals CAN put you in nap-mode out of the blue. So just to be on the safe side of things? If you order this pizza, make sure to have a pillow or two handy.

(Nutrition Facts – Not listed on website.)

Purchased Price: $9
Size: Large pizza (8 slices)
Rating: 8 out of 10
Pros: A very rich and robust smoked barbecue taste. A nice and savory BBQ sauce base. Being so full of brisket you come *this close* to reaching beef enlightenment.
Cons: Nowhere near enough cheese. The artificial BBQ seasonings on the crust are a little off-putting. Trying to ward off the food coma effects about a half hour after eating your last slice.

REVIEW: KFC Georgia Gold Chicken

Recently, I’ve been referring to KFC as Kan’t Figure (out the) Colonel because of its revolving door of portrayals that started off as confusing and is now weirdly entertaining. The latest Colonel Sanders made his debut along with the chicken chain’s new Georgia Gold Honey Mustard BBQ Chicken.

Let me preface by saying I’m a connoisseur of anything honey mustard-flavored. Amongst the fast food landscape there is the full gamut of choices, from Chick-fil-A’s non-creamy offering to Papa John’s liquid euphoria that I would very much like to bathe in.

That’s the thing about honey mustard and its flavor profile, it’s all over the place. As Forrest Gump’s mom would say, “Honey mustard is like a box of chocolates. You never know what you’re gonna get.”

Is it cream based? What’s the honey-to-mustard ratio? How seedy is it? Let’s see where Georgia Gold lies.

(Side note – KFC, how bout Tom Hanks as the next colonel? I BET HE WOULD CRUSH IT.)

The chicken tenders I got came in an order of three in their own little container with some pickles for good measure. While I do love a good pickle, I’m not a huge fan when they are hot as they lose some of their gratifying crunch. They were marginal at best. I ate them first just so I could move quickly on to the stars of the dish, the tenders themselves, which were fantastic.

The meat inside was juicy, like insanely juicy, which I definitely was not expecting. The breading was, as I like to call it, Goldilocks-style. Not too crunchy or too mushy, it was juuuuuussssssst right.

With the perfect meat and breading I was excited for some intense flavor. However, it never materialized. It was hard to distinguish any flavor at all actually. As I looked to the bottom of the container, I saw what had happened. It had all pooled to the bottom grooves of the container so I decided to scoop up the concoction with my spork.

Once in my mouth, I got all the flavors I was hoping for. Hints of mustard and honey, a slight BBQ essence, even a little bit of heat towards the end, and all surprisingly well balanced. All notes could have been a bit stronger and I wish it was more of a smooth sauce rather than being slightly clumpy and oily, but regardless it was tasty!

I remedied the rest of my meal by adding the mixture right on top of the remaining tenders. After I was finished, forget my fingers, I wanted to lick those grooves. Yum, this was CONTAINER LICKIN’ GOOD!

(Nutrition Facts – 3 Tenders – 410 calories, 22 grams of fat, 2.5 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 75 milligrams of cholesterol, 940 milligrams of sodium, 24 grams of carbohydrates, 1 gram of dietary fiber, 0 grams of sugar, and 29 grams of protein.)

Purchased Price: $5.49
Size: N/A
Rating: 8 out of 10
Pros: Goldilocks-style breading. Insanely juicy white meat chicken. Tom Hanks as the new Colonel. A bathtub full of your favorite condiment.
Cons: Trying out a new honey mustard = taste bud Russian roulette. Georgia Gold sauce fleeing the tenders for the safety of the container grooves.

REVIEW: McDonald’s Fried Guava Pie

Two things you should know about McDonald’s pies in Hawaii.

  1. They’re fried. Hawaii is one of the few places in the United States that offers fried McDonald’s pies. (Oddly, we are also the healthiest state in the country.)
  2. We have local seasonal pie flavors many of you would call “exotic.” The Haupia Pie features a coconut-flavored filling with gelatinous pieces and the Taro Pie has a purple filling with gelatinous cubes.

McDonald’s Hawaii’s newest fried pie doesn’t have jellylike cubes, but it does have a thick guava-flavored filling. To be honest, I’m surprised our local McDonald’s didn’t come out with a guava pie sooner because guava is our state fruit.

And if you look that up on the internet, you’ll learn it’s not. But we use the fruit in enough products that it should be.

Even though we love the tropical fruit, the 50th state can’t brag about it being the first one to have McDonald’s guava pies. Florida can claim that fact that no one from there will brag about. Although, not to brag, theirs was baked.

The exterior of the Fried Guava Pie looks like the skin of someone who was in a freak chemistry laboratory accident. But, man, that bubbly skin is crispy like the best fried chicken you’ve ever had. It has a level of crispiness that you wish McDonald’s chicken filets, patties, and McNuggets had.

The viscous pink filling has a flavor that reminds me of the canned guava nectar I drank as a kid, but warm. Perhaps, too warm (and maybe a bit too sweet). My taste buds are so used to having that delicious flavor ice cold that it’s weird to taste it at a higher temperature. It’s like drinking warm soda. Also, a few chomps had a sweet chemical zing to them. It was a turnoff to my taste buds, but it wasn’t in every bite so it didn’t prevent me from eating the whole pie.

Haupia and taro are foods I don’t eat, but love them when in the form of McDonald’s fried pies. With guava and McDonald’s Fried Guava Pie, it’s the opposite.

(Nutrition Facts – 210 calories 60 calories from fat, 7 grams of fat, 3 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 0 milligrams of cholesterol, 140 milligrams of sodium, 35 grams of carbohydrates, 1 gram of fiber, 16 grams of sugar, and 2 grams of protein.)

Purchased Price: $1.00
Size: N/A
Rating: 5 out of 10
Pros: Flavor reminds me of canned guava nectar. Super crispy shell. Fried pies.
Cons: Occasional chemical bite. It’s weird tasting a flavor I usually consume cold. Regional pie variety. Wikipedia saying Hawaii’s state muffin is the coconut muffin.

REVIEW: McDonald’s Mac Jr.

When I was sharing the news that McDonald’s now has a Mac Jr. with a co-worker (side note: we’re marketers, so creativity is always on the brain), we both deemed it a lack of innovation on Mickey D’s part for calling it Jr. since so many other chains Jr.-ize their burgers.

Personally, I think it should be called the Baby Mac. So much so, in fact, that I’ve had to stop myself from writing Baby instead of Jr. several times already.

But lack of creativity in the name is not what I’m here to judge, so let me tell you about the size and the flavor. While the good old Big Mac has two meat patties, you’ll find just one on the limited time only Mac Jr. From bottom to top, the burger was built as so: Bun, cheese, meat, pickle, onion (very little onion on mine), lettuce, Big Mac sauce and bun.

I’m going to have to agree with Leonard here, I wish the meat was more prevalent in size. Because the patty was so thin, it left me wanting more. (Thank goodness I also picked up an Oreo McFlurry. Purchase price? $1.99 for a snack size.) I easily polished off the burger without feeling completely satisfied.

But that being said, the taste was on point. There was a great ratio of cheese to meat, and the pickles were fresh and crunchy. And the sauce? Oh, the Big Mac sauce. My only gripe is that my friendly McDonald’s Mac Jr. assembler was a little heavy-handed on the sauce. As soon as I unwrapped the paper, it was oozing out of the sides. Delicious and warm, but slightly too much. I think this is the case where it’s just a tad too much of a good thing.

If you’re in the mood for the Baby Mac, err… Mac Jr., you won’t be disappointed in flavor. McDonald’s definitely gets that right. However, I caution to you add some fries or that beautiful, sweet McFlurry if you’re looking for a complete meal but don’t want the extra meat and bun of a Big Mac or Grand Mac.

(Nutrition Facts – 460 calories, 240 calories from fat, 27 grams of fat, 9 grams of saturated fat, 1 gram of trans fat, 70 milligrams of cholesterol, 830 milligrams of sodium, 36 grams of carbohydrates, 3 grams of dietary fiber, 7 grams of sugar, and 21 grams of protein.)

Purchased Price: $2.49
Size: N/A
Rating: 7 out of 10
Pros: Cost is less than my morning coffee order. It’s the adorable little sibling of the Mac family.
Cons: Pretty thin meat patty, a bit too much sauce (but is that really a problem?)

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