The Grilled Cheese Burrito was introduced at Taco Bell back in like, July, and it wasn’t until now that we’ve decided to review it. It’s not like we hadn’t had it since it came out – we’ve eaten it several times and, spoiler alert, find it really good. We’re just still bitter about the Taco Bell Menugeddon that happened around the same time period. We don’t want to give Taco Bell much attention right now.
But like a siren, the Grilled Cheese Burrito calls to us. We hear its song. The promise of crisp cheese on the outside of the burrito, and a filling almost but not exactly like our old favorite, the Beefy Fritos Burrito. We cannot resist. We must, must have this burrito. And so we did. And we had it again, and again, and again.
We broke our own oath over this thing. We pledged that we would stop eating at Taco Bell, that they had hurt us for the last time. But we knew we couldn’t stay away. It’s too, too hard. Hit the jump and you can find out what makes it so irresistible for yourself.
When does irony stop mattering?
Advertisers understand that irony has been a powerful marketing force for years now. Just look at the state of many products: marketers no longer try to assure us that their products are superior, or quality, or even good. They openly and unabashedly embrace the idea that their goods are bad, strange, and comedic. “Honesty” is valued above anything else – so what if the product is garbage? You know you want it, you slob!
And we – I specifically mean food reviewers, including us here at Eggware.XYZ – fall for it every time. There’s almost nothing we can do to keep ourselves from eating these awful foods, talking about how bad they are, how absolutely awful these things are, what were they thinking? The companies that produce this garbage love it when we do this. There’s no way to actually and accurately communicate something is bad anymore. “No such thing as bad publicity” has been actively weaponized. The more we mock them, the more we insult them, the more we bemoan their terrible practices, the stronger they get.
So it’s with a heavy heart that we have decided to review the Flamin’ Hot Cheetos Mac ‘N Cheese today. We know just by acknowledging this product’s existence, we’re letting Frito-Lay score a win over us. We don’t care anymore. To paraphrase Allen Ginsberg, you can’t win, you can’t break even, you can’t even leave the game. The world has to know how awful this stuff is.
WARNING: The following article, unusually for us, is very NSFW. Please do not read this if you are under the age of 18, or if you are somebody who works for Parasole Restaurant Holdings.
Burger Jones. The name fills me with fear. How can I possibly explain why? What words will describe the imagined world of Burger Jones, otherwise a small Minnesotan chain of hamburger restaurants? What will atone for what we have invented? Is it simply too late?
Burger Jones was opened in 2009 by Parasole Restaurant Holdings, a small restaurateur business that owns several other restaurants across the Twin Cities. Like what must now be 80% of restaurants in the United States, it is a hamburger restaurant. It serves hamburgers. Its named “Burger Jones”. This isn’t hard math.
But there is a darker side to Burger Jones, a dripping, turgid mess, that is a complete and utter fantasy invented by us here at Eggware.XYZ as one of the stupidest running jokes ever devised. We’d like to apologize to any members of Parasole Restaurant Holdings, or any other employee of the Burger Jones who might stumble upon this article, but our tale must be told. We’ve lived with this for too long, and now that we have finally dined at Burger Jones, you must all share our pain.
We are so, so sorry.
Oh for the love of god not more chicken sandwiches
Okay, okay, we can do this. Yes, chicken is everywhere, and we’ve drilled that concept into your heads for long enough. Wendy’s, not one to be left out of a trend, has added a number of chicken sandwiches to its new breakfast menu – the most interesting one, to us, being the Maple Bacon Chicken Croissant.
On its surface, this sounds like a serious slam dunk. Fried chicken, bacon, AND a croissant bun? The only other place that does croissant buns in its breakfast is Burger King, and they’re definitely the least classy of the Big Three burger joints. Could Wendy’s deliver to us a real croissant, rich, buttery and flaky?
I mean, we doubt it. But there’s always hope, so hit the jump and find out.
As of today it’s no longer a secret that I’ve never had a Dole Whip.
Dole Whips are a cult classic treat you can get at a few places, notably Disneyland and Walt Disney World. It’s a soft-serve dairy-free ice “cream” treat made with pineapple flavor. It’s either served by itself, or as a “Dole Whip float” with pineapple juice.
I don’t know what it tastes like, because as I’ve just said, I’ve never had it. But I REALLY REALLY REALLY REALLY REALLY WANT TO
So let’s look at my options.
Valentine’s Day has come and gone, but we here at Eggware.XYZ don’t care about that. We prefer a much more important holiday that occurs days later: Leftover Chocolate Sales Day. This treasured day of celebration occurs about a week after several more “major” holidays, such as Valentine’s Day, Easter, and Halloween. For those of us who are bargain-minded, it’s a day of being able to afford decent chocolate and lots of it.
At Trader Joe’s, we’ve partaken of Leftover Chocolate Sales Day by purchasing a limited-time chocolate offer: the Fireworks Chocolate Bar. A bar of dark chocolate is seasoned with hot chili powder, sea salt, and popping candy.
Does the Fireworks bar really pop? Find out after the jump.
Sex sells! It’s a fact of life, and one easily confirmed just by turning on a TV. Of course, not every sexual situation makes sense when it’s being used to sell. Like if you’re selling pickles, or orange juice.
Old Dutch Foods is a snack manufacturer, primarily known for their brands of potato chips. They only tend to distribute in the northern United States and Canada. Dutch Crunch is Old Dutch’s brand of kettle chips, and our preferred brand of potato chips with an unparalleled Salt & Vinegar flavor.
If you’re eating locally in the Midwest, you’ve probably encountered a plate of Old Dutch branded chips. They’re unmistakeable: they have a fresh potato flavor, are always way too salty. and are soaked in oil that covers your fingertips as you eat.
It sounds kind of awful when you put it like that, but it’s a typical comfort food for the Midwesterner. Whether the chips are tucked into a roast beef and mayo sandwich, used to scoop out Old Dutch-branded french onion dip, or just eaten on their own: it’s a distinctive mark of the region, as you can’t find them anywhere else in the United States of America.
We’ll bring the distinctive flavor of a Midwestern Bistro to the rest of America after the jump.
“Paula, I had a horrible nightmare.”
“What was it?”
“I dreamt that they made a new, hotter variety of Flamin’ Hot Cheetos – XXtra Flamin’ Hot Cheetos – they came in a black bag. I’m scared beyond comprehension!”
“Will, that wasn’t a dream. Those were real, and you have to eat them.”
This is a conversation that actually took place.
Flamin’ Hot Cheetos are an extremely fashionable snack – considering they’re one of the few snack chips that have had a rap written by children about them, they’re unquestionably a favorite among people of all ages. They are hot, sure, but is that really enough? Flamin’ is a state of mind, after all. One man’s red hot is another man’s lukewarm. How can we push the envelope? How can we turn something that’s Flamin’ into even Flamin’er?
XXtra Flamin’ Hot Cheetos are the answer. Promising to be “twice as hot” as regular Flamin’ Hot Cheetos, these chips may just be enough to push our taste buds over the edge. Will they hold up to their doubly intense promise?
Hey, when was the last time you had something with pretzel in it? Not like, actually eating a pretzel, but when was the last time you ate a pretzel bun, or pretzel crust, or anything made with pretzel? Months ago, right? Right. So why is it, on June 29, 2015 on this dear sweet planet Earth, that Little Caesars decided to re-introduce its Soft Pretzel Crust Pizza?
Don’t get us wrong – it’s not a bad pizza, at least in our opinion, but the pretzel fad is over. Their last limited time offer was a bacon-crusted deep dish pizza, which was sensible because bacon will never die as long as Americans continue to love making their hearts suffer (as Wendy’s has recently proven with their Baconator Fries), but the Soft Pretzel Crust Pizza got a lukewarm reception the first time it was around when the pretzel fad was actually relevant. We can’t claim to read the minds of the Little Caesars corporate brains, but this just seems like a bad idea.
Regardless, we missed out on an opportunity to review the pizza proper the first time it came around and figured we’d jump on it while it was still (moderately) relevant again. We actually adored the pizza when it was new, so we really wanted to see if a few months off the menu would change it much.
After the jump, we’ll give this out-of-date fad cash-in another try and see if it’s gotten any better… or worse.