REVIEW: Kellogg’s Eggo FiberPlus Waffles (Calcium Buttermilk & Antioxidants Chocolate Chip)

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Eggo FiberPlus Waffles

“Waffles?” you ask.  “Really, Drew?  The man who reviewed beer for Christmas is a week behind on a review, and when he finally gets it in, it’s waffles?  That’s weak, bro.”  Your scorn is duly noted, and all I can offer in return is that, as the joint creator and co-producer of a two-year-old and a three-week-old, I have not gotten more than five hours of sleep a night in, well, three weeks.  Ergo, I am going to review my effing waffles with fiber, and you will read every damn word I have to say, no matter how little sense it makes or how old it makes me sound.  Are we clear?

The gimmick of Kellogg’s new Eggo waffles is that they’re FiberPlus, boldly proclaimed as 35% of your daily recommended intake of fiber right there on the front of the box.  By way of differentiating the two flavors beyond just “one’s got chocolate chips, the other don’t,” the buttermilk variety touts the word “calcium” on its banner, whereas the chocolate chip version boasts of its antioxidants, including vitamin E and zinc.  I was prepared to laugh my taint off if both versions had the exact same amount of calcium and Kellogg’s was just pretending there’s some health advantages of one over the other, but apparently they are indeed slightly distinct.  According to the nutritional info, the buttermilk variety have a whopping 5% more of your daily recommended intake of calcium per waffle than their be-chipped brethren, but with the trade-off of no appreciable levels of vitamin E or zinc.  This matters to me absolutely zero, but I suppose somewhere there may be someone who has strong, definitive opinions about how much zinc they consume in their breakfast toaster items.  Someday I would like to meet that man and tell him he’s wasted his life.  Then he’ll say I’m pretty judgmental for a guy who’s not wearing any pants, and we’ll both have a good laugh.

Eggo FiberPlus Waffles Naked

My chief concern about the waffles beforehand was the same one I have whenever I try a food purporting to be healthy, which is that too often there’s the inevitable sacrifice of taste for health.  Yes, your unsweetened organic rice cakes may let me live two days longer than if I’d eaten a Twinkie instead, but during that time the thought “Man, those rice cakes really tasted like the styrofoam packing peanuts they were probably made from” will cross my mind at least three times.  (I intend to be very reflective in my final days.)  I’m not interested in improved colon health if the unspoken caveat is that I’m basically eating cardboard.  Fortunately, I can report that the FiberPlus waffles are no worse than other Eggo waffles I’ve had in the past, which also means they’re tastier than your average frozen waffle.

The adjectives most commonly used to denote good waffles are “light and fluffy.” But be honest — when’s the last time you had a frozen food that really qualified as “light”?   I’ll offer that these are fluffy and… semi light?  Light-ish?  Loosely adapted from a work inspired by light?  You won’t mistake them for being freshly made, but they’re probably as non-heavy as you could expect out of frozen waffles.  As for the flavor, extra calcium and fiber or not, nothing tastes “off” about the buttermilk ones.  I could distinctly taste the chocolate chips in the antioxidants variety, and there are a decent (though not overly generous) number of chips in each.  For the price you’re paying, it’s hard to find too much fault with the taste.

In the interest of garnering multiple perspectives, and also because kids gotta eat, I solicited my toddler’s opinions on the waffles as well.  She reported that they taste, quote, “Mmm-hmm,” and expanded on this with, “I get down now?” However, she also ate every bite, which NEVER happens, so that’s kind of the ultimate compliment.  Bafflingly, that was the buttermilk; the next day she ate two bites of the chocolate chip one and then flatly turned it down, proving once and for all that kids are kind of dumb.  She did deign to eat the rest of it that night, and when asked to clarify whether it was “satisfying” or “flavorful,” indicated that it was “favorul.”  If Kellogg’s wants to use that in their new advertising campaign, I’m willing to sign the consent forms.

Finally, I’m not a coffee drinker, but many people are, and between a cup or two of java and these waffles, well… I can’t vouch for it personally, but I could see that being the kind of breakfast that puts a spring in your step and your ass on the john.  I would not schedule a particularly long staff meeting after a venti mocha and a couple of these waffles, is what I’m saying.  On the other hand, happy parents make for happy babies, and what’s more important to long-term happiness than good digestive health?  Maybe I was smart to buy these things after all.  Thanks, FiberPlus!

(Nutrition Facts – 2 waffles – Calcium Buttermilk – 160 calories, 6 grams of fat, 1.5 grams of saturated fat, 390 milligrams of sodium, 29 grams of carbohydrates, 9 grams of fiber, 3 grams of sugar, 3 grams of protein.  Antioxidants Chocolate Chip – 180 calories, 7 grams of fat, 2.5 grams of saturated fat, 350 milligrams of sodium, 31 grams of carbohydrates, 9 grams of fiber, 8 grams of sugar, 3 grams of protein.)

Item: Kellogg’s Eggo FiberPlus Waffles (Calcium Buttermilk & Antioxidants Chocolate Chip)
Price: $3.39
Size: 8 waffles
Purchased at: Giant
Rating: 6 out of 10 (Calcium Buttermilk)
Rating: 7 out of 10 (Antioxidants Chocolate Chip)
Pros: Affordable.  Easy to prepare.  Surprisingly good for frozen food.  Healthier than I anticipated.  Buttermilk = calci-riffic!  Antioxidants are… good, I’m pretty sure?  Keeping the system, uh, well, you know.  “Running smoothly.”  Yeah.
Cons: All baby and no sleep makes Drew go crazy. Not especially light.  Having to decide if it’s worth swapping calcium for antioxidants and chocolate chips.  (Yes.)  Knowing that maple syrup eliminates any pretense of “healthiness.”  Toddler eating habits.

REVIEW: Kellogg’s Ice Cream Shoppe Frosted Rainbow Cookie Sandwich Pop-Tarts

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Kellogg's Ice Cream Shoppe Frosted Rainbow Cookie Sandwich Pop-Tarts

Many of you reading this may wonder why a 30-year-old man is reviewing Kellogg’s Ice Cream Shoppe Frosted Rainbow Cookie Sandwich Pop-Tarts [22], a sugary abomination clearly designed solely to be eaten by children for, you know, “breakfast.”  (We know better, don’t we, kids?)  It’s pretty simple — reviewing a fine product like Kellogg’s Ice Cream Shoppe Frosted Rainbow Cookie Sandwich Pop-Tarts [61] is the easiest way for me to meet my word quota without having to say anything of substance.  If you look carefully, you’ll realize this entire review is only five sentences long.  Can I get an “Amen!” for cheating the system?  A few more of these and I’ll finally be able to afford those pec implants.  I mean, penis smallification surgery!  Obviously.

But since we’re here, we might as well take a closer look at this affront to parents and dentists alike, by which of course I’m referring to Kellogg’s Ice Cream Shoppe Frosted Rainbow Cookie Sandwich Pop-Tarts [161].  As a teenager I used to scarf down the S’mores variety with the same frequency that most of my peers were watching scrambled porn (€œI think that was a boob!  Sweet!€), but I haven’t had one of any kind in probably a decade.  Back then I never bothered reading nutritional information because I was swimming a billion hours a week (estimated) so it really didn’t matter, but apparently Pop-Tarts is not health food.  Crazy!

But what they lack in nutritional value, Kellogg’s Ice Cream Shoppe Frosted Rainbow Cookie Sandwich Pop-Tarts [252] more than make up for in visual insanity.  The package alone has caused more seizures than a viewing of Tron on acid — you have the respective Kellogg’s and Pop-Tarts logos superimposed on an old-timey “ice cream shoppe” (the extra “pe” stands for quaintness) awning, with a helpful “New Flavor!” tag in one corner, and that’s just the top half.  The bottom shows a picture of the Pop-Tart itself with a real ice cream sandwich flying around it, leaving a rainbow comet trail in its wake that also proclaims it a good source of calcium.  Holy balls, I want to eat one of these and go fight a leprechaun.  You’re my bitch now, Lucky.  Removing one from the foil wrapper is only a slight letdown, as it does indeed boast an abundance of multicolored sprinkles, plus a chocolate swirl.  I can honestly say it’s the least boring Pop-Tart I’ve ever seen, which is not saying much, but there it is.

Kellogg's Ice Cream Shoppe Frosted Rainbow Cookie Sandwich Pop-Tarts Innards

Obviously Kellogg’s can’t put actual ice cream inside their Pop-Tarts, yet have set themselves the task of making the brand taste as much like ice cream as possible, so I was curious about how they’d accomplish this.  The answer, it turns out, is “just cram a whole mess of frosting up in there.”  It really tastes more like marshmallow or cake frosting than ice cream, which is not such a bad thing.  The rainbow sprinkles further put me in the mindset of cake, to the point where “Ye Olde Birth-day Cake” would probably be a more accurate brand name than “Ice Cream Shoppe.”  The chocolate drizzle on the top does indeed look a bit like hot fudge, but unless you’ve got hypersensitive taste buds, you’re not going to be able to detect the chocolate — the frosting taste dominates over all, with perhaps a bit of sprinkle evident if my eyes aren’t just liking the pretty colors and arbitrarily assigning a taste to them.  And let’s be honest, any ice cream cookie sandwich you’ve ever eaten had either chocolate chips or M&Ms in the cookies, not just the rainbow sprinkles offered to us by Kellogg’s Ice Cream Shoppe Frosted Rainbow Cookie Sandwich Pop-Tarts [616].

I wasn’t really disappointed by the Pop-Tarts because they still taste good, even if they don’t perfectly capture the flavor they’re trying to approximate.  They reminded me more than a little of the S’mores Pop-Tarts of my youth, just with less chocolate and a more overtly sugary flavor to the filling.  True, they taste more like a birthday cake than an ice cream sandwich, but since either is a perfectly acceptable treat when you’re a kid, I’d say they meet the needs of their target audience, as well as those of us just looking to recapture a bit of our youth.

Thanks Kellogg’s Ice Cream Shoppe Frosted Rainbow Cookie Sandwich Pop-Tarts.  [727! Word quota accomplished!]

(Nutrition Facts – 1 pastry – 200 calories, 6 grams of fat, 2 grams of saturated fat, 2 grams of polyunsaturated fat, 1 gram of monounsaturated fat, 0 milligrams of cholesterol, 200 milligrams of sodium, 35 grams of carbohydrates, less than 1 gram of fiber, 15 grams of sugar, 2 grams of protein, and a myriad vitamins and minerals.)

Item: Kellogg’s Ice Cream Shoppe Frosted Rainbow Cookie Sandwich Pop-Tarts
Price: $2.35
Size: 1 box of 8
Purchased at: Acme
Rating: 7 out of 10
Pros: Tastes good. Hearkening back to really unhealthy youth.  Saying the full name makes you feel like you’ve accomplished something.  Scrambled porn.  Talking smack to leprechauns.  Staring at box cheaper than buying drugs.  Can’t go wrong with cake.  Meeting word quota.
Cons: Wang surgery not cheap.  Scrambled porn actually 1979 4-H livestock semifinals.  Requires “toasting” device to unlock full potential.  Doesn’t taste like ice cream.  Hollow feeling at working the system.

REVIEW: Kellogg’s Crunchy Nut Cereal (Roasted Nut & Honey O’s and Golden Honey Nut Flakes)

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Kellogg's Crunchy Nut Cereal

I basically picked up the two new varieties of Kellogg’s Crunchy Nut cereal (Roasted Nut & Honey O’s and Golden Honey Nut Flakes) because the boxes just made Kellogg’s seem so desperate. I figured that, based on the rebate offer covering half the front of the Golden Honey Nut Flakes box and the large coupon plastered on the side of both varieties, these things had to be either the best kept secret in the whole flippin’ breakfast aisle or some sort of unmentionable abomination created by the CEO’s nephew. As usual, my curiosity outweighed my gnawing suspicions. I still have my qualms about Kellogg’s calling the peanut-bedazzled cereals “nutty” and not “legumey”, but I’m willing to let that rest. There are bigger fish to fry here. Honey-peanut-molasses fish.

I had heard next to nothing about these cereals until they practically jumped out at me from the shelves. Hell, the product website even failed to locate either variety within a thirty mile radius of my zip code for some odd reason. I have my theories on this simultaneous lack of marketing and desperate push for acceptance. Perhaps they’re a failed vehicle for some early-90’s kids TV show. I imagine them as rebranded Slappy the Squirrel cereals from a never realized Animaniacs spin-off concept, found in a repossessed storage locker somewhere, still sealed and intact thanks to scads of preservatives.

I think part of the problem is that both varieties taste so gimmicky-sweet, so inherently child-friendly. But where are the goofy characters — the tigers, toucans, and Quisps – with their insatiable draw and plush dolls for bar codes offer? Why isn’t there a maze on the back?

This isn’t your average adult cereal, either. There are no berries, no gourmet Georgia pecans, no multi-grain wholesomely fortified goji oat nuggets. Nowhere is heart health even mentioned. They don’t even tout the fact that the O’s are HFCS-free, though this is perhaps a ploy to keep us from noticing that the flakes conspicuously aren’t. In any case, real sugar, molasses, and honey take top billing. Aside from the vitamin additives, the ingredient list is fairly short and brimming with various states of run-of-the-mill ground corn (It’s okay to hate me for that one).

I expected to taste Corn Flakes and Cheerios, respectively, with peanuts stuck all over them. What I got was a Cracker Jack laden nostalgia trip back to lil’ lassie softball and family game nights past. Sadly, both cereals lacked a cheap prize to fight over and retrieve from mom’s hiding spot on top of the refrigerator in the middle of the night. On the bright side, I wasn’t picking little popcorn husks off my back teeth days later.

The O’s tasted both puffy and crispy, like coated rice cakes. They in no way actually resembled Cheerios. My brief disappointment gave way to delight when I introduced them to milk, however. The O’s stayed crunchy for a good while, unlike the flakes, which reached Soggyville far too soon.

I am easily distracted, especially in the mornings. I have a habit of pouring a bowl of cereal and then running off to put in forgotten contacts or hunt for sunglasses. I therefore require industrial levels of steadfast crunchiness. I’m always impressed when any cereal manages to hold up to my unreasonable standards. Eaten dry, the O’s taste a little bland, while the flakes become quite addictive, exactly like Cracker Jack.

At first, I wondered to myself why Cracker Jack doesn’t have a cereal line, and then, with horror, I thought maybe this was supposed to be that cereal line, once upon a time, possibly in the dot com era, back when anything was possible. If these cereals are, in fact, resurrected failures, they must’ve just been ignored by marketing people too entranced by their Tigers, because, beyond the identity crisis, both varieties are pretty gr-r-reat.

Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got a one-way ticket to the mysterious Soggyville and the train is boarding.

(Nutrition Facts – 3/4 cup – Golden Honey Nut Flakes – 120 calories, 10 calories from fat, 1 grams of fat, 0 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 0 milligrams of cholesterol, 160 milligrams of sodium, 40 milligrams of potassium, 26 grams of carbohydrates, less than 1 gram of fiber, 11 grams of sugar, 2 grams of protein and a bunch of vitamins and minerals. Roasted Nut & Honey O’s – 100 calories, 10 calories from fat, 1 gram of fat, 0 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 0 milligrams of cholesterol, 125 milligrams of sodium, 25 milligrams of potassium, 23 grams of carbohydrates, 2 grams of fiber, 10 grams of sugar, 2 grams of protein and a bunch of vitamins and minerals.)

Item: Kellogg’s Crunchy Nut Cereal (Roasted Nut & Honey O’s and Golden Honey Nut Flakes)
Price: $2.50 each (on sale)
Size: 10.8 ounces (Roasted Nut & Honey O’s)
Size: 14.1 ounces (Golden Honey Nut Flakes)
Purchased at: Albertson’s
Rating: 9 out of 10 (Roasted Nut & Honey O’s)
Rating: 7 out of 10 (Golden Honey Nut Flakes)
Pros: Ever-crunchy rings. Slappy the Squirrel hawking cereal. Cracker Jack for breakfast. The early dot com era, when everything was possible. Very snack-worthy throughout the day. Fairly health-conscious choice for sweet cereal lovers. No popcorn husks.
Cons: No prize. Flakes seemed to have pre-booked their tickets to Soggyville. No mazes. Rings dependent on milk for maximum deliciousness. Rampant family game night cheating. No healthy nuggets. Decade-old Cracker Jacks for breakfast. No adorable mascot. Weird softball league groupings.

REVIEW: Kellogg’s Eggo Thick & Fluffy Waffles (Original & Cinnamon Brown Sugar)

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Kellogg's Eggo Thick & Fluffy Original Waffles

Borrowing things from overseas to sell on our shores is a tricky business. As with any translation, we run the risk of not getting it quite right. Like turning the infinitely-watchable E4 series Skins into a show that no one (save for The Parents Television Council who wants to kill it with fire) cares to watch… or transforming the delicioso Mexican corn-cake-style gordita into the well-known and often-devoured Taco Bell Gordita that is basically a taco made with pita bread. How they made the leap to the Middle East by way of Mexico, I have no idea. I guess, to them, foreign food is foreign food. We’re lucky they didn’t try to stuff haggis in there.

The process of repackaging these things for consumption in the United States is clearly an attempt to make them more palatable for Americans, however unrecognizable they become. But it doesn’t explain why Kellogg’s would revise the Belgian waffle for their Eggo brand by making them toaster-sized instead of plate-sized and octagonal instead of round (or square) and calling them “Thick & Fluffy ” waffles. Did they think consumers wouldn’t understand these waffles if they used the word “Belgian”? They’ve been around for 50 years. I think we get it. Semantics aside, what it really comes down to is whether the waffles have deep pockets and taste good. For the most part, they do.

Eggo Thick & Fluffy waffles come in two flavor varieties: Cinnamon Brown Sugar and Original Recipe. The name “Original Recipe” conjures up visions of crispy, golden fried chicken offered by string-tied Southern gentlemen with dubious military origins, yet as a Roscoe’s devotee, I can attest to the fact that fried chicken does pair well with waffles. Maybe this title wasn’t unintentional.

The Original Recipe waffle was exceptional. It has a certain extra something (probably sodium) that makes the waffle taste extra malty. I scoured the ingredients list and didn’t see anything about malt, though, so I could just be imagining it. Maybe my previous experiences with other Belgian fluffy and thick waffles created an expectation for malt flavor.

Kellogg's Eggo Thick & Fluffy Cinnamon Brown Sugar Waffles

On the flip side, I was all ready to love the Cinnamon Brown Sugar waffle, being the brown sugar & cinnamon addict that I am, but it was just OK. The flavor just doesn’t “pop.” It’s not super sweet, but it’s also not very cinnamon-y. Blah Sugar. Cinna-Zzzzz. The experience is underwhelming. Way to not be an enabler, Kellogg’s. I’m one step closer to recovery.

Despite the fact that it’s a toaster waffle, I was expecting preparation to be a breeze. Logistically, it is pretty easy. Place in toaster… Toast… The End. But the toasting instructions specify that you may need to use two toasting cycles in order to evenly heat the waffle. That’s far too long for a toaster-based convenience breakfast. I hate double-toasting. It ruins the feeling of relief you experience once the toaster pops up because as soon as it does, you just have to push it back down again and start all over. It’s totally defeating. Bad way to start the day.

Kellogg's Eggo Thick & Fluffy Cinnamon Brown Sugar Waffle Naked

Another negative is that even though these are Thicker & Fluffier, they don’t make you feel any fuller — just the opposite. The extra carbs and sugar you ingest in the thicker waffle make you crash faster… and if you double-up on the serving size (eating two waffles instead of one), it just makes things worse.

That’s another thing. The serving size is just one waffle, but the box shows two. WHY MUST YOU TOY WITH MY EMOTIONS, EGGO??? Sorry, that’s the cinnamon brown sugar withdrawal talking.

I appreciate Eggo’s take on Belgian waffles, though the Original Recipe flavor makes a tastier breakfast than the Cinnamon Brown Sugar one. They should try making crépes next… though they’ll probably call them “Eggo Thin & Flat Pancakes.” How gauche.

(Nutrition Facts – 1 waffle/55 grams – Original Recipe – 160 calories, 70 calories from fat, 7 grams of fat, 2 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 3.5 grams of polyunsaturated fat, 1.5 grams of monounsaturated fat, 0 milligrams of cholesterol, 300 milligrams of sodium, 50 milligrams of potassium, 20 grams of carbohydrates, >1 gram of fiber, 3 grams of sugar, and 4 grams of protein. Cinnamon Brown Sugar – 170 calories, 60 calories from fat, 7 grams of fat, 2 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 3 grams of polyunsaturated fat, 1.5 grams of monounsaturated fat, 0 milligrams of cholesterol, 270 milligrams of sodium, 50 milligrams of potassium, 24 grams of carbohydrates, >1 gram of fiber, 9 grams of sugar and 3 grams of protein.)

Item: Kellogg’s Eggo Thick & Fluffy Waffles (Original & Cinnamon Brown Sugar)
Price: $2.00 (on sale)
Size: 11.6 oz
Purchased at: Vons
Rating: 10 out of 10 (Original Recipe)
Rating: 6 out of 10 (Cinnamon Brown Sugar)
Pros: Corn cakes. Southern gentlemen. Invisible malt. Octagons.
Cons: Witch hunts. Haggis. Understanding waffles. Boring me with cinnamon. The long toast. Small serving size.

REVIEW: Kellogg’s Limited Edition Gingerbread Printed Fun Pop-Tarts

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Kellogg's Limited Edition Gingerbread Printed Fun Pop-Tarts

The Limited Edition Gingerbread Printed Fun Pop-Tarts are a seasonal flavor that’s been around for a few years, but I never picked them up because the images printed on them freak me out.

The images include a gingerbread house with a working chimney and gingerbread men ice skating, snowboarding and being an ice hockey goalie. Seriously, they look like the hallucinations one would have if they decided to huff a spray snow can or wear a homemade Santa beard made with cotton balls and rubber cement.

Gingerbread men don’t snowboard or ice skate. They just lie there on their backs with their arms stretched out and legs spread open, like a prostitute letting time pass by, waiting for their pay, while their client does their thing on top of them, occasionally letting out an unenthusiastic moan or “You feel so good.”

Instead, Kellogg’s should’ve printed realistic holiday images on these Limited Edition Gingerbread Printed Fun Pop-Tarts, and I’m not talking about Santa or Christmas trees.

I’m talking about images of people camping out the day before Black Friday at a Best Buy, hoping to score a dirt cheap laptop or HDTV from a brand they’ve never heard of. I’m talking about images of two adults fighting over a toy in the middle of a Walmart. I’m talking about images of children finding out that Santa doesn’t exist when they see their parents stuffing their stockings on Christmas Eve. I’m talking about images of Jewish people having to explain to non-Jewish people what Hanukkah is and how to spell it.

Kellogg's Limited Edition Gingerbread Printed Fun Pop-Tarts Top

Kellogg’s decided to go bareback with these Pop-Tarts and not make them frosted. I don’t think the Pop-Tarts’ brown crust makes a good canvas for the machine that stamps on the images because the combination of the crust and Federal Food Drug & Cosmetic Act-approved food coloring makes it looks like the Jersey Shore’s Snooki is snowboarding, ice skating and playing goalie for the New Jersey Devils on these Pop-Tarts.

Although they’re not frosted, there are sugar crystals sprinkled on top, which seems unnecessary because sprinkling sugar on an already sugary Pop-Tart is like pooping on poop. What really gives these Pop-Tarts their sugary, teeth-rotting goodness is the white filling inside them, which has a strong vanilla flavor with a bit of gingerbread. The filling combined with the mild gingerbread flavor of the pastry, creates a pleasant Pop-Tarts flavor, which makes me regret not overcoming the freaky images on these Pop-Tarts earlier.

Overall, I enjoyed the Limited Edition Gingerbread Printed Fun Pop-Tarts, especially when toasted and flipped over so I didn’t have to stare at an image of Snooki skiing while eating it.

(Nutrition Facts – 1 pastry/50 grams – 200 calories, 45 calories from fat, 5 grams of fat, 1.5 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 0 milligrams of cholesterol, 220 milligrams of sodium, 35 grams of carbohydrates, less than 1 gram of fiber, 16 grams of sugar, 2 grams of protein and a bunch of vitamins and minerals.)

Item: Kellogg’s Limited Edition Gingerbread Printed Fun Pop-Tarts
Price: $3.99
Size: 12 pastries
Purchased at: Target
Rating: 7 out of 10
Pros: Pleasant gingerbread flavor. Best when toasted and flipped over. Vanilla filling also had a little gingerbread flavor. Sniffing rubber cement. Contains seven vitamins and minerals.
Cons: Not frosted. Images freak me out. Gingerbread images remind me of Snooki. Limited edition. Missing Thanksgiving dinner to wait in line at Best Buy for a cheap laptop.

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