REVIEW: Papa John’s Grilled Chicken Margherita Pizza

Papa John's Grilled Chicken Margherita Pizza

Ol’ Papa John just can’t seem to stop turning other things into pizza. He has a seemingly insatiable love for it, whether it’s a Philly Cheesesteak, a cheeseburger, Fritos chili pie, spinach dip, or even a cookie. Okay, sure, the last one isn’t that far-fetched, but still.

I have a few suggestions for future Papa John’s mash-ups:

Deluxe Nachos Pizza – nacho cheese sauce base, all the usual nacho toppings, maybe some tortilla chip crumbles on top. Tagline: “This is nacho grandma’s pizza!”

Lobster Roll Pizza – mayonnaise/lemon base topped with buttered lobster chunks, celery and scallions. Tagline: “We’re on a roll with this pizza!”

General Tso’s Pizza – teriyaki glaze base topped with crispy glazed chicken, broccoli and hot peppers. Tagline: “There is tso much flavor baked right into this pizza!”

Matzo Ball Pizza (seasonal item) – matzo crust with a schmaltz base, topped with chicken, carrots, shallots and garlic. Tagline: “Don’t pass over this deal!”

Just some food for thought, if you will. Also, I fully expect some of these to become realized in the future. You’re welcome, Papa.

With all this talk of crazy pizzas, you may think this review is about a crazy pizza. Well, think again! Also, read the title of this review!

Papa John’s newest creation is the Grilled Chicken Margherita Pizza, a name that evokes one of the oldest, simplest and most traditional pizza creations straight from Italy. It’s history time!

The year is 1889. Italy has been unified for 28 years, but the southern portion is still as salty as pasta water about it. The Italian king and queen decide to visit Naples, which used to be the capitol of Westeros – er, sorry, the Kingdom of the South, in an attempt to convince them that hey, it’s all good, bros.

The queen is totally sick of the gourmet French cuisine that is normally served to royals, because who doesn’t, so she summons famous pizza-tosser Raffaele Esposito to bake her three pies. Goldilocks-style, she rejects the garlic one and the anchovy one, but finds the one with tomatoes, mozzarella and basil to be juuuust right.

The queen’s name? Daenerys Targaryen, of course.

Oh, wait, sorry again. It was Margherita.

And thus, the Margherita Pizza was born. Or was it? There’s strong evidence that this whole story is bogus, so take it all with a big grain of Italian sea salt.

Pizza Margherita is one of only three pizzas with a Traditional Guaranteed Specialty EU label, which means that it comes with some very strict rules in regards to preparation. Papa John’s has, of course, followed none of those rules.

I mean, they’ve got the basic components. Tomatoes, mozzarella and basil are present, but in no way are the arranged in the way of a traditional Pizza Margherita.

Papa John’s describes the Chicken Margherita Pizza as “loaded with grilled all white meat chicken, basil pesto sauce, fresh cut Roma tomatoes, mozzarella and pizza sauce”.

Upon opening the box, I was greeted with the scent of tomatoes and a hint of pesto. Not a bad start. I also noticed there was a healthy amount of both tomatoes and chicken spread across the pizza. Topping coverage is important, people. It’s the #1 way a pizza can give me a sad face. Okay, pineapples are #1. But it’s a close second.

The tomatoes were absolutely juicy and tasted fresh, bursting between my teeth. That sounds more gross than delicious, but it wasn’t. The chicken was moist and tender, and seemed to be seasoned with something, but I couldn’t quite tell what, as they were covered in sauce.

Papa John's Grilled Chicken Margherita Pizza Slice

While I enjoyed the chicken, it seemed to suspiciously resemble, in both structure and texture, those pre-cooked chicken strips you can buy in bags at the grocery store from Tyson or Foster Farms. I like those chicken strips perfectly fine, but let’s just say it’s a good thing Papa John’s didn’t throw “fresh” in the description of the chicken.

If you do a Google Image Search for “margherita pizza”, you will see some very pretty pictures of pies covered with circles of melted white deliciousness. You will also get hungry. This is what mozzarella on a margherita pizza is supposed to look like.

Papa John’s did not do that. The mozzarella on their Chicken Margherita Pizza looks like…well, it looks like mozzarella on a pizza. Absolutely nothing special about it. Fresh mozzarella has a distinct taste to it, and this was just the same ol’ cheese PJ’s uses on the rest of their pizzas. It stinks of not trying.

One of the things I was most enthusiastic about in regards to this pizza was the pesto sauce. I love pesto. I love pesto so much. And while, once again, this is definitely not part of a traditional margherita’s design, I appreciated the attempt at including at least some form of basil.

That is, until I tasted the pesto on its own. It seemed like it was watered down – where was the boldness, the garlic, that rich, savory taste I love so much about pesto? It was there, it was just too faint.

And then they went and added pizza sauce to it. Why? Papa, you already had tomatoes as a topping; couldn’t you have just made the entire base pesto and ran with it that way? With the pizza sauce and the pesto mixed together, the former overwhelmed the already underwhelming latter, furthering my pesto disappointment. It just became muddled.

I’ve spent a lot of time griping about Papa John’s Chicken Margherita Pizza, and I feel my points are justified. But it’s a completely edible pizza at the end of the day. I liked the chicken and the tomatoes were really fresh and juicy. I guess I just wish they hadn’t pretended that it actually is a margherita pizza. That name comes with certain expectations that certainly were not met. I also wish they’d kept the pizza sauce off and gone with a really robust pesto base. The combination of all these factors just left me disappointed. You could say it was more of a mehgherita pizza, amirite guys?

(Nutrition Facts – 1/6 of a small pizza – 230 calories, 90 calories from fat, 10 grams of fat, 4 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 20 milligrams of cholesterol, 600 milligrams of sodium, 25 grams of carbohydrates, 1 gram of fiber, 3 grams of sugar, 9 grams of protein, 4% vitamin A, 4% vitamin C, 10% calcium, and 8% iron.)

Item: Papa John’s Grilled Chicken Margherita Pizza
Purchased Price: $12.00
Size: Small
Purchased at: Papa John’s
Rating: 4 out of 10
Pros: Fresh, juicy tomatoes. A history lesson! Chicken was moist and tender. I’m pretty proud of those fake pizzas and taglines. The idea(?) of a pesto pizza.
Cons: Totally not a margherita pizza. Picky queens. Pesto tasted watered down. Ending the review with a bad pun. Addition of pizza sauce was unnecessary and muddled everything up.

REVIEW: Burger King Fiery Chicken Fries

Burger King Fiery Chicken Fries

Yes, that box is adorable. And I like it more than the Burger King Fiery Chicken Fries that came in it.

Up front I should tell you I have a history of making fun of Chicken Fries. I believe I once called them…let’s see now, “deep fried tampons.” When they were discontinued I didn’t shed a tear for them. And when they came back I didn’t rush to the nearest Burger King to relive 2005 all over again. But then Burger King did something with them that’s hard for me to resist. They offered a spicy version.

I’m a sucker for anything that claims to be “spicy,” “hot,” “fiery,” “blazin’,” “burnin’,” “lava,” “angry,” “hella,” and any other term used to describe a product that may force me to grab a glass of ice water to soothe my taste buds. But about 80 percent of the time, I’m disappointed by the heat of those products. And these Fiery Chicken Fries ensure that percentage stays high.

On the Burger King website, they’re calling these “offensively spicy.” To make them “offensively spicy,” the white meat chicken is coated in a breading that contains cayenne pepper, black pepper, and savory spices. Yup, tongue-burning cayenne pepper and sweat-inducing black pepper.

Oh wait, I meant to write none-burning cayenne pepper and sneeze-inducing black pepper.

Burger King Fiery Chicken Fries 2

The cayenne in the slightly crispy breading gives the poultry filled fries a sinister glow, but that’s mostly for show. There was a mellow cayenne peppery burn that showed up after I ate a few. Actually, “burn” isn’t the best word. I think “warm” is better. It’s like the warm body heat from a long hug, except it’s in your mouth. The cayenne and black pepper do give the chicken sticks a decent flavor sans sauce, but, again, they do nothing to them that I’d consider fiery. Or even smoldering.

My experience with the Fiery Chicken Fries reminded me of my taste test of another one of BK’s “spicy” products, the Angry Whopper. With the burger I was expecting angry, but instead got perturbed. And with these fries, instead of offensively spicy, I got annoyingly not offensively spicy.

Burger King Fiery Chicken Fries 3

Like the original Chicken Fries, each box comes with nine pieces and your choice of sauce — BBQ, Honey Mustard, Ranch, Zesty, Buffalo, Sweet & Sour, and Chicken Fries Sauce. I went with the Chicken Fries Sauce, which was something I haven’t tried before. It’s tangy, sweet, and tasty, but it’s no Zesty Sauce, which I think is spicier than these Fiery Chicken Fries.

Burger King Fiery Chicken Fries 4

And thank goodness these come with a sauce because the meat within the coating was a bit dry. So instead of “In Case of Fire Smother With Sauce,” perhaps the inside of the box should’ve said, “In Case of Dryness Smother With Sauce.”

While Burger King’s Fiery Chicken Fries are not as fiery as I hoped, they do have a flavor that makes them better tasting than the original version. But I still don’t like them more than the box they came in. Again, that container is adorbs.

(Nutrition Facts – 290 calories, 18 grams of fat, 3 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 35 milligrams of cholesterol, 870 milligrams of sodium, 17 grams of carbohydrates, 0 grams of sugar, and 15 grams of protein.)

Item: Burger King Fiery Chicken Fries
Purchased Price: $3.49*
Size: 9 pieces
Purchased at: Burger King
Rating: 6 out of 10
Pros: Better tasting than original Chicken Fries. Chicken Fries Sauce is tasty. The container they come in is adorable.
Cons: Not fiery. Not offensively spicy. Dry innards. More limp than crispy. Liking the box more than what was inside the box.

*Because I live on a rock in the middle of the Pacific Ocean, things are a bit pricier here. You’ll probably pay less than I did.

REVIEW: Taco Bell Dare Devil Loaded Grillers

Taco Bell Dare Devil Loaded Grillers

I have a confession, dear readers.

I am a weenie.

That’s right: I’m the guy who needs a tissue after a single Flaming Hot Cheeto. I’m the guy who thinks playing Doritos Roulette is cruel and unusual punishment. And Thai food? More like “I want to die food.”

And I’ve been mocked for it my whole life.

That’s why taking on the challenge of Taco Bell’s new Dare Devil Loaded Grillers, which come in three escalating levels of spiciness, was a personal quest for me. If I can handle these, maybe I can regain some self-respect. No longer will I quiver before a bottle of Sriracha.

So without further ado, allow me to channel my inner Dante and dive into these three tortilla-wrapped circles of Hell.

Taco Bell Dare Devil Loaded Grillers 2

First up was Mild Chipotle. The wrapper seemed to mock me with its condescending tone and mellow yellow colors. The insides were kinda squished together, but between the many, thick layers of tortilla were scant amounts of beef, plenty of gooey cheese, strangely damp wads of red corn chips, and the tempting beige sauce.

Flavor-wise, the toasty, grilled flour of the tortilla and the slight edge of the cheese dominated all else, with the sauce backing it up with a savory creaminess that had a palpably high fattiness. Little meatiness could be found, and the chips got too soggy to lend any sort of fun crunch. Regardless, as a fan of quesadillas, this tasted a lot like a pleasantly zesty one.

As for the spice, after finishing a bite I noticed a relaxed buzz in the back of my throat, but nothing even my greenhorn tongue couldn’t handle.

Taco Bell Dare Devil Loaded Grillers 3

Kicking it up a notch (shame on Taco Bell for not working in the phrase “kick it up a nacho” somehow), I bit into the Hot Habanero griller. Aesthetically, it looked nearly identical to its plain-Jane little brother, except with a much thinner and angrier looking orange layer of creamy sauce.

Compared to Chipotle, the taste here was like a “hot beef injection.” Wait, wait. That’s not what I mean. Don’t Google that, please. But anyway, the noticeable tang of the pepper made the smoky, seasoned beef flavor much more prominent here, with undertones of garlic and black pepper. Our “chipper” friends manage to pop in with a brief, hot corniness, too.

The heat was a slow buildup, so much so that I thought I was safe until my tongue and throat started to tingle and whimper like a dog who played with a porcupine (thank my German Shorthair, who took a faceful of quills to bring us that analogy). Fortunately, the steady burn wasn’t nearly intense enough that a long swig of milk couldn’t wash it out.

Taco Bell Dare Devil Loaded Grillers 4

But then it was time for Fiery Ghost Pepper. It was to be my personal final boss: my Bowser, my Ganondorf, and my last mine in a tense game of Minesweeper. Unlike its creamy siblings, this one just oozed a sinister, bubbly red liquid (okay, maybe I imagined the bubbles).

In terms of flavor, I was barely able to sense a salty combo of meat and corn chips before the acrid acidity of the sauce took over, with the harsh, concentrated pepper flavor overwhelming and seeping into all else. Even the formerly friendly cheese betrayed me and became pasteurized magma.

Et tu, nacho?

To seasoned veterans of seasoned spice, the heat may not quite be “1,000,00 Scovilles,” but it was enough to make me say “Sco-ly s***!” My tongue went numb to flavor, my throat resonated with capsaicin, and trying to wash it down with milk was as futile as Smokey the Bear crying tears of disappointment onto a forest fire.

Taco Bell Dare Devil Loaded Grillers 5

For a total price of $3, the Dare Devil Grillers were a fun novelty, but outside of Chipotle, I can’t imagine buying any for an actual meal (though they are large enough for one), since the burn takes way from the familiar flavor, which you could easily get from many of Taco Bell’s other items.

Since I can see my word count here is already starting to rival Dante’s Divine Comedy, too, and since I’m still nursing a crispy tongue, I think a brief haiku summarizing each Griller will suffice:

Chipotle, my friend:
Cheesy, zesty mayo-filled
Beef quesadilla

Habanero, oh!
Peppered meat, slow-building heat
(That sounded dirty)

Ghost pepper: need Tums
Like Pompeii, heat buries taste
Ow ow ow, owww, ow!

(Nutrition Facts – Chipotle – 420 calories, 200 calories from fat, 22 grams of fat, 5 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 30 milligrams of cholesterol, 940 milligrams of sodium, 43 grams of carbohydrates, 4 grams of dietary fiber, 3 grams of sugar, and 12 grams of protein. Habanero – 380 calories, 160 calories from fat, 18 grams of fat, 5 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 25 milligrams of cholesterol, 900 milligrams of sodium, 44 grams of carbohydrates, 4 grams of dietary fiber, 4 grams of sugar, and 12 grams of protein. Ghost Pepper – 400 calories, 180 calories from fat, 20 grams of fat, 5 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 25 milligrams of cholesterol, 970 milligrams of sodium, 44 grams of carbohydrates, 4 grams of dietary fiber, 3 grams of sugar, and 11 grams of protein.)

Item: Taco Bell Dare Devil Loaded Grillers
Purchased Price: $1 each
Size: N/A
Purchased at: Taco Bell
Rating: 7 out of 10 (Chipotle)
Rating: 6 out of 10 (Habanero)
Rating: 5 out of 10 (Ghost Pepper)
Pros: Flavorful beef with cheese and toasty flour tortilla. Unbeatable value. The sinful goodness of “palpably high fat content.” Conquering your personal Ganondorf.
Cons: Pain and heat mask flavor as you move up in heat. Only difference between Grillers is flavor emphasis. Soggy chips. The crushing betrayal of “pasteurized magma.”

REVIEW: McDonald’s McCafé Strawberry Lemonade

McDonald’s McCafe? Strawberry Lemonade

Part of me feels guilty for buying McDonald’s new McCafé Strawberry Lemonade because I’m probably driving some little girl’s lemonade stand out of business and killing her budding entrepreneurial spirit.

But part of me doesn’t feel guilty because I’m probably teaching her valuable lessons of business innovation which will allow her to up her game and develop sound marketing and costing principles for future lemonade stand expansion. So you might say I have mixed feelings about my purchase. Just like I have mixed feelings about the taste of McDonald’s newest McCafé beverage.

The fast food chain says that their new take on lemonade is “hand shaken for a perfect balance of sweet and tart,” but neither of those points are actually correct. The woman making my lemonade didn’t shake it so much as she pushed a few buttons on a big machine with strawberry lemonade in it, which is a real bummer because everyone knows lemonade is a lot like martinis -— better shaken, not stirred.

Also, the strawberry lemonade is really only the “perfect balance” of sweet and tart if your definition of balance means tasting more tart than sweet, which for a lot of people isn’t the preferred ratio for fruit-flavored foods and drinks (thus, why we have Sweetarts and not Tartsweets.)

Still, the strawberry lemonade is definitely refreshing and unexpectedly sophisticated in its flavor. The tartness, while outweighing the sweetness, isn’t mind blowing like a Warhead, and actually tastes reminiscent of eating a Lemonhead and a Swedish Fish at the same time.

There’s definitely a nuanced strawberry flavor that rounds out the lemon’s acidity, while the three slices of strawberry I received in my lemonade made for a favorable presentation that I really doubt most little boys and girls setting up lemonade stands this time of year can match.

McDonald’s McCafe? Strawberry Lemonade 3

Still, I can’t get past the tartness, nor can I get past the big machine of lemonade that serves up one of the most quintessentially homemade beverages with what I can only describe as “questionable” freshness. The strawberries, while aesthetically very nice to stir around with your straw, are actually pretty insipid and obviously frozen, with a thawed-out sliminess that screams for added sugar. More than anything else, I thought that added sugar would have helped bring out the inherent fruitiness of the strawberries, and justified the $1.79 I paid for a small.

There’s been a lot of McDonald’s Secret Menu talk as of late and I’d like to add a little tip to the conversation. If you’re lucky to live in an area where McDonald’s soda dispensers come equipped with both Minute Maid Light Lemonade and Strawberry Fanta, you can get a sweeter, more strawberry-y lemonade drink for less money.

McDonald’s McCafe? Strawberry Lemonade 2

I like what McDonald’s is trying to get at with their McCafé Strawberry Lemonade, even if the execution is off and the tartness overpowering. Given my guilt over contributing to the decline of brother and sister lemonade stands, I can only hope that our country’s next generation of venture capitalists responds by correcting this imbalance and reclaiming the lemonade market through fresher strawberries and more sugar.

(Nutrition Facts – Small – 120 calories, 0 calories from fat, 0 grams of fat, 0 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 0 milligrams of cholesterol, 10 milligrams of sodium, 32 grams of carbohydrates, 1 gram of dietary fiber, 28 grams of sugar, and 1 gram of protein.)

Item: McDonald’s McCafé Strawberry Lemonade
Purchased Price: $1.79
Size: Small (12 oz.)
Purchased at: McDonald’s
Rating: 5 out of 10
Pros: More sophisticated flavor than usual takes on lemonade. Nuanced strawberry taste. Comes with real strawberry and lemon slices. Chilled and refreshing on a hot day.
Cons: Too tart for general lemonade drinking public. Strawberry flavor isn’t as concentrated as it should be. Pricey. Questionable freshness, including lack of discernible pulp. Supporting corporate giant over youthful small businesses.

REVIEW: Jack in the Box Portobello Mushroom Buttery Jack

Jack in the Box Portobello Mushroom Buttery Jack

Jack in the Box’s Buttery Jack is much like an ice cream cone on a hot summer day, crab legs at an all you can eat buffet, and baby back ribs at a barbecue joint.

What do these have in common? Besides being foods you’ve seen on your friend’s Instagram that shows EVERYTHING he eats (STOP IT, BRANDON!), they’re also messy enough that you’ll need a few extra napkins if you’re eating them.

The Buttery Jack originally came in two varieties — Classic and Bacon & Swiss. But now there’s a third, the Portobello Mushroom, so get your napkins ready. The burger comes with a 1/4 lb beef patty topped with garlic herb butter, Portobello mushrooms, buttery grilled onions, Swiss cheese, and peppercorn mayo on a gourmet signature bun. So, yeah, it’s basically a mushroom and swiss burger with a fancy name.

If you’re thinking someone’s A-key isn’t working on their keyboard because you thought it was “portabella” not “portobello,” then let me do your Google search for you and say either one is acceptable. So if a Facebook friends corrects you, tell them that they’re wrong, play the instrumentals to Billy Ocean’s “Caribbean Queen,” and then sing the following lyrics:

Spelling bee queen.
Now we’re spelling the same thing.
There are more spellings than one.
No more confusion.

Jack in the Box Portobello Mushroom Buttery Jack 2

Like the plastic wrap Dexter uses to secure his prey, the melted Swiss cheese holds the mushrooms and onions down on the beef patty, preventing them from escaping. My burger came with a decent amount of fungi and aromatics, and they both provided a decent amount of flavor. But to be honest, they don’t taste any different than what’s been on other fast food mushroom and swiss burgers I’ve had.

Although the Portobello mushrooms are in the name, the real star of every Buttery Jack is really the garlic herb butter. As I mentioned in my review of the other varieties, it helps compensate for the patty’s dryness and gives your hands a slick coating that’ll make it easier to slide down fire poles and make Jenga a bit more exciting. The garlic flavor isn’t strong enough to prevent a vampire from invading your personal space, but it does enhance the patty’s flavor.

Jack in the Box Portobello Mushroom Buttery Jack 3

Besides allowing the top bun of the slightly sweet and sturdy gourmet bun to stick to the rest of the burger, I’m not sure about the inclusion of the peppercorn mayo. I didn’t get any pepperiness from the burger. Although, combined with the Swiss cheese, the two did give the burger an added creamy texture. As for the Swiss cheese itself, its mild flavor is hard to detect with the garlic herb butter also hitting my taste buds.

A mushroom and swiss version of Jack in the Box’s Buttery Jack was inevitable. Whenever fast food chains offer a new burger line, it seems mushroom and swiss is almost always one of the options or a later addition (See McDonald’s Sirloin Burger and Angus Third Pounder, Burger King’s Whopper and Big King, Carl’s Jr.’s All-Natural Burger). But the garlic herb butter does help this burger stand out among those others I’ve tried. It’s a good burger, although not as good as the Classic version. And it’s a good addition to the Buttery Jack line.

(Nutrition Facts – 807 calories, 462 calories from fat, 51 grams of fat, 23 grams of saturated fat, 2 grams of trans fat, 128 milligrams of cholesterol, 1081 milligrams of sodium, 51 grams of carbohydrates, 4 grams of fiber, 12 grams of sugar, and 38 grams of protein..)

Item: Jack in the Box Portobello Mushroom Buttery Jack
Purchased Price: $9.27* (large combo)
Size: N/A
Purchased at: Jack in the Box
Rating: 7 out of 10
Pros: Garlic herb butter helps hide the dry patty and makes this burger stand out among other mushroom and swiss burgers I’ve had. Gourmet signature bun is still great. Swiss cheese helps prevent mushrooms and onions from falling out.
Cons: Messy. Hard to notice the Swiss cheese and peppercorn mayo. Predictable burger variety.

*Because I live on a rock in the middle of the Pacific Ocean, things are a bit pricier here. You’ll probably pay less than I did.

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