Adam, Author at The Impulsive Buy

REVIEW: Hershey’s Carrot Cake Kisses

March 9, 2016August 14, 2023 Adam 2 Comments

Carrot Cake is always a cause for celebration.

History proves it: when the Red Coats turn and ran from the Lower East Side in 1783, George Washington celebrated with a big old slice of carrot tea cake. Why? Because nothing says BOOM, ‘MURICA like sneaking vegetables into dessert. It is just our way. You can call it the best of both worlds, or having your cake and eating it too, or just a pretext to improve your night vision while not giving up the sensual pleasure of cake.

But whatever you call it, call it what it is: America’s most beloved combination of vegetables and cream cheese this side of pumpkin spice season.

Carrot Cake is also the newest seasonal Hershey’s Kisses. Non-chocolate Kisses (which are not to be confused with French kisses, which are equally as delightful as Hershey’s Kisses) are a rarity in the candy world, and in my experience, a mixed bag. Sometimes good, sometimes meh, you never know what to make of the seasonally-themed flavors until you try them. This of course is possible thanks to the miracle of capitalism, and the tireless efforts of the overnight employees stocking the Walmart candy shelves the day after the last holiday ended.

I have a theory about carrot cake: aside from being an “Easter” flavor, its appeal derives from the fact that it has a little something of everyone’s other favorite cakes and flavors.

But if your idea of carrot cake is the kind of cake you eat when you really just want fruitcake, then these Kisses are not from you. There are no raisins, pineapple, or nuts of any kind in the filling, and as far as I know, they don’t have any booze in them.

Likewise, if carrot cake is the kind is cake you turn to for the moist, super-carroty experience, then these Kisses don’t quite do the job, because the carrot flavor isn’t very distinct. And, finally, if carrot cake is what you’re looking for when you really just want an excuse to lick cream cheese frosting, the white center of each Kiss — which tastes like a combination of fondant and buttercream and a little bit of sour cream — leaves much to be desired.

Who are these Kisses for? They’re for people who like super sweet carrot cake with a little, but not a lot of, tang; those who enjoy the saccharine smell of fondant; people who are looking for a less assertive flavor still reminiscent of pumpkin spice during the spring; and, finally, folks who enjoy sucking on candy whose shape recalls infant memories of breastfeeding.

In all honesty the Kisses aren’t bad. While they are hyper-sweet, there’s a milky appeal to the orange layer, with an artificial spice flavor that lingers. It’s not a bad flavor though. A slightly tangy finish with the fondant and buttercream-like center leaves the tongue with the impression that you’ve eaten more than just sugar and vegetable oil.

It’s not a moist and decadent carrot cake, but it’s a respectable, albeit too sweet and artificial, celebration of familiar spices and buttercream flavors in the convenient nipple-looking package of a Hershey’s Kiss. And at just under 25 calories a Kiss, it’s a bit easier on the waistline than a carrot cake. The Kisses might not be kicking the British out of Manhattan in the Revolutionary War, but my celebration standards are not quite so lofty, so I’ll go ahead and have another.

(Nutrition Facts – 9 Kisses – 220 calories, 110 calories from fat, 12 grams of fat, 8 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, less than 5 milligrams of cholesterol, 55 milligrams of sodium, 25 grams of carbohydrates, 0 grams of dietary fiber, 23 grams of sugar, and 2 grams of protein.)

Purchased Price: $2.98
Size: 9 oz. bag
Purchased at: Walmart
Rating: 6 out of 10
Pros: Enjoyable melt-in-your mouth Kisses quality. Sweet warming spices. Pretty good combination of buttercream, white-chocolate, and fondant frosting. The American way.
Cons: Lacks really deep carrot cake flavor. Cream cheese tang and richness is missing. Cloying. Doesn’t contain any of the usual carrot cake mix-ins. Awesome source of saturated fat and Yellow Lake #5.

REVIEW: Lay’s Korean Barbecue Potato Chips (Flavor Swap)

February 19, 2016August 28, 2023 Adam 5 Comments

Funfetti.

Chocolate-covered olive.

Nashville Hot Chicken and pickles.

These are but a few flavors we won’t be tempted to try as part of Lay’s annual “Do Us A Flavor” contest. After a three-year run with some highs, some lows, and frankly just some seasoning that had no business coming into contact with a potato, Lay’s is asking for America’s feedback in a totally new competition. The stakes couldn’t be higher.

Flavor Swap offers a chance to pick the next Lay’s chip flavors, but only at the cost of an existing flavor, which will be exiled to the world of Oreo O’s cereal, Dunkaroos, and Black Pepper Jack Doritos. One of the flavors on the chopping block: the iconic and always reliable Honey Barbecue.

It’s not all doom and gloom though. We are getting a choice, and when it comes to the barbecue category, the new Korean Barbecue chips offer something totally different from the eight other barbecue chip flavors listed on the Lay’s website — a taste of one of America’s hottest trends.

I first discovered Korean barbecue when a crapload of Kalbi and Bulgogi restaurants showed up in my Maryland suburb. I couldn’t speak a word of Korean, but the language of grilled marinated rib eye transcends ineffective Google translators. Marinated in a combination of soy sauce, ginger, sugar, and other spices, the thin cuts of grilled meats are totally unlike those loaded with vinegary Carolina sauces or sweet Kansas City sauces. Dare I say it, in some ways they’re better.

I can’t say that’s necessarily true about Lay’s take on the Korean barbecue. The chips are definitely unique; I’ll give them that. And they’re tasty too. Darker, with a grey shadow and specs of onion and garlic powder, they’ve got an initial salty and meaty flavor which tastes like instant beef bouillon, except not quite so disgusting-sounding. The strong umami notes soon give way to a prominent smoky flavor and a touch of sweetness, and when eaten straight from the bag, they’re almost impossible to put down.

Almost. The thing is, Lay’s Honey Barbecue chips are impossible to put down. It’s an orange chip with a light tomato and paprika flavor that perfectly complements its sweet brown sugar and molasses touch, and its finish is distinctly potato-ey. It’s clean, simple, and just a good old potato chip.

To use a rough barbecue analogy for the chips, Honey Barbecue is about the sauce and the spice, and Korean Barbecue is about the meat and the smoke. They’re both really good, and in the case of the Korean Barbecue flavor, the chips are distinct from other flavors we’ve seen before. But the former flavor is what I’m craving on a chip, and the latter on, well, actual meat.

As much as I love the idea of Korean Barbecue potato chips and want these to stick around, I’m not ready to exile Honey Barbecue to the island of misfit snacks for them. Salty, smoky, and meaty, the Korean Barbecue chips are just a little too heavy for a potato chip flavor, and could have really used a bit of ginger or additional backend sweetness to round their flavor out. Nevertheless, I hope Lay’s toys with the idea of keeping the chips around, because the Korean Barbecue has more than earned its place at America’s culinary table.

(Nutrition Facts – 28 grams – 150 calories, 10 grams of fat, 1.5 grams of saturated fat, 0 mg of cholesterol, 140 mg of sodium, 330 mg of potassium, 16 grams of carbohydrates, 1 gram of dietary fiber, 2 grams of sugars, and 2 grams of protein..)

Item: Lay’s Korean Barbecue Potato Chips
Purchased Price: $1.28
Size: 2.75 oz bag
Purchased at: Walmart
Rating: 7 out of 10
Pros: Nails the smoky meaty flavor of bulgogi meat in chip form. Complex saltiness with sweet notes in the background. Breaks relatively new ground in an already saturated barbecue chip market. Not chocolate-dipped olive.
Cons: Soy sauce flavor tastes a bit more like Worcestershire sauce. Umami flavor covers up clean finish of the potato taste. Not enough sweetness and no ginger. Not as good as Honey Barbecue flavored chips. Kind of wanting to try a Funfetti flavored chip.

REVIEW: Kellogg’s Smorz Cereal (2016)

February 12, 2016August 28, 2023 Adam

If the early 2000s taught us nothing else as a society, it was that transposing the letter S with the letter Z in a word made you instantly credible and cool. LOL, once trite and overused, took on new life thanks to LOLZ, while I would argue that Anheuser-Busch owes its entire advertising success of the decade to the phonetic pronunciation of WAZZUP.

Thankfully, we as a civilization have largely moved past this momentary lapse in linguistics. Well, everyone except a dedicated group of cereal lovers who’ve helped bring back Smorz Cereal.

It’s been four years since Smorz left our shelves, and to be honest, I have yet to circle the five steps of grief; mostly because I thought the original Smorz had some room for improvement. Now I’m not saying I disliked Smorz — as far as chocolate and graham cereals go, it was good as a snacking cereal — but the marshmallows had a funky artificiality and lighter-than-Lucky Charms ‘mallow give that made them taste stale after a few days.

Nevertheless, as interweb excitement grew for the return of an extinct specimen of chocolate and graham, I was hopeful this newest version of Smorz would combine everything I loved about the original Smorz, as well as everything that I hoped a mainstream s’mores cereal should have.

When it comes to the chocolate and graham squares, the rebirth of Smorz lived up to its predecessor and to that campfire taste. Ok, so it’s not exactly a “rich chocolate” cereal coating, but this is Kellogg’s, not Ghirardelli. The squares have a pleasant malty milk chocolate flavor that’s highly addictive when you snack on them, like a graham-flavored version of Chex Muddy Buddies.

The first few times I crunched on the squares I was disappointing in the graham flavor. It’s definitely muted in milk, and not honey glazed like Golden Grahams. But when eaten out of hand the flavor is mellow and slightly whole-wheaty, like that moment you bite into an actual s’more.

But then something happened: my mouth met the marshmallows.

If I wasn’t sold on the marshmallows in the old Smorz, then I’m selling off like a oil stockbroker with these marshmallows. Eaten dry, they have a dusty stiffness and chalky, sugary flavor. Not a sweet flavor, a sugary flavor. It’s a flavor I remember well from candy cigarettes I once bought from the ice cream man when I was 10 years old. It is not a yummy flavor, especially in milk, where the saccharine sweetness and candy cigarette aftertaste does a disservice to the synergy of chocolate and graham. What’s more, they don’t taste toasted. What is the lesson to take from this? Smoking is not a yummy flavor.

For the most part, I consider myself a cereal populist. Even though I was a bit ambivalent toward the original Smorz, past cereal resurrections like French Toast Crunch had me excited to step back into the world of bowls we thought were extinct.

But in the case of the 2016 version of Smorz cereal, I’m wondering if we shouldn’t just let bygones be bygones. The chocolate and graham squares are definitely good — probably better than I remember — especially as a snack. But the marshmallows bring the cereal down, and, like transposing “Z” for “S,” are unnecessary and potentially maddening.

(Nutrition Facts – 8 grams – 120 calories, 2 grams of fat, 0.5 grams of saturated fat, 0 mg of cholesterol, 135 mg of sodium, 25 grams of carbohydrates, less than 1 gram of dietary fiber, 13 grams of sugars, and 1 grams of protein..)

Item: Kellogg’s Smorz Cereal (2016)
Purchased Price: $2.98
Size: 10.2 oz. box
Purchased at: Walmart
Rating: 6 out of 10
Pros: Muddy Buddy-type chocolate and graham coating is really good. Awesome level of crunch. No more partially hydrogenated oils. Enjoyable snacking cereal when not eaten with marshmallows.
Cons: Lackluster toasted s’mores flavor. Notrichness. A slightly distracting corn aftertaste in milk that overpowers the graham flavor. Marshmallows taste like candy cigarettes. Early 2000s linguistic fads.

REVIEW: Kellogg’s Jif PB&J Strawberry Cereal

January 13, 2016August 28, 2023 Adam 7 Comments

Frankly, I blame adults.

They are, after all, the ones leading cereal companies. They’re the ones trying to come up with ways to stop sliding cereal sales, but when they’re not too busy putting quinoa and Sprouted Grains into my breakfast bowl, they’re forgetting what it’s like to be a kid.

How else can we explain the fact that no one has made peanut butter and jelly cereal before? If they would have only asked us kids (ok, slightly balding upper twenty-somethings, too) then we could have told them the next great cereal flavor was right under their noses the whole time.

Any kid with a crowded cereal pantry, taste buds, and a bit of imagination probably already knew it was a good combination. I’m probably not the only person to combine Cap’n Crunch’s Peanut Butter Crunch and Whoops All Berries in the same bowl, so I’m guessing many of you expected as much. But in case any anxious food company executives still needed convincing, Jif’s PB&J Strawberry Cereal should put fears to rest.

I was a bit skeptical, too. A year and a half ago I wrote that Jif’s cereal was good, but it wasn’t as peanut buttery as other peanut butter cereals. To a certain extent this is still true; the brown sugar and molasses flavor gives each square an almost kettle corn quality, while the squares aren’t quite as roasted or developed in flavor as Peanut Butter Crunch. But the peanut butter flavor is better than it used to be, and works especially well when mixed with the small spheres of strawberry cereal.

I’m glad Jif lived up to its slogan and was choosy with their choice of jelly for the cereal: whether you like strawberry or grape jelly doesn’t matter so much, because you’re going to like the fact that the red corn spheres taste more than just vaguely fruity. They’re much better than Crunch Berries in that they have a distinct strawberry flavor that is both ultra-sweet but also slightly tart; in other words, the perfect foil to the salty, molasses and brown sugar flavor of the peanut butter squares.

It’s when these two flavors come together that the unmistakable synergy that is PB&J takes over. As you crunch down on a spoonful (or, as I prefer, a dry handful) the two flavors mix and mingle with the utmost of equality. Just like in a real PB&J sandwich, the jelly flavor takes center stage first, but it quickly gives way to a salty peanut flavor.

There’s a kettle corn type aftertaste in milk that’s a bit unconventional, and the tartness of the strawberry pieces takes a little getting used to, but I’d be lying if I didn’t admit the cereal just works. It is, in so many ways, absolutely everything you’ve ever wanted from a PB&J sandwich, right on down to the sticky mush that sticks to the room of your mouth and the absence of those stupid bitter crusts that always end up getting thrown away.

When you think about it, a PB&J cereal sounds weird. I mean, you probably wouldn’t stick a PB&J sandwich in milk, unless, of course, you are weird. What I’m trying to say is I forgive all those adults out there for not wanting us to eat weird things. But in the case of Jif PB&J Strawberry cereal, it works, and is something both kids and big kids are sure to enjoy.

(Nutrition Facts – 26 grams – 100 calories, 1 gram of fat, 0 grams of saturated fat, 0 mg of cholesterol, 150 mg of sodium, 22 grams of carbohydrates, 2 grams of dietary fiber, 10 grams of sugars, and 1 grams of protein.)

Item: Kellogg’s Jif PB&J Strawberry Cereal
Purchased Price: $2.98
Size: 10 oz. box
Purchased at: Walmart
Rating: 8 out of 10
Pros: Great sweet and salty balance captures the taste of a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. Strawberry pieces actually have a distinct sweet-tart strawberry flavor. Sticks to the roof of your mouth in milk. No crusts. Just straight up works.
Cons: A slightly distracting corn aftertaste. No unctuous and fatty peanut butter depth. The unfortunate state of the cereal industry.

REVIEW: Dunkin’ Donuts Fudge Croissant Donut

January 5, 2016January 4, 2021 Adam 7 Comments

I sometimes allow myself to think that maybe, just maybe, some research and development person in the fast casual industry will hear my ideas and implement them. Usually this isn’t the case, but my 2014 review of Dunkin’ Donuts’ Croissant Donut might’ve been the catalyst for Dunkin’s new Fudge Croissant Donut.

…the single-flavor fails to capitalize on a host of sweet croissant fillings, while coming across as overpriced and, yes, mass-produced. There was a part of me which wanted more distinctiveness in the interior layers, wishing for a truly pick-apart dough which was layered with chocolate or marzipan or any number of fillings.

Ok, so maybe attributing Dunkin’s latest donut to me and me alone is arrogant and presumptuous. But I know I wasn’t the only one who liked the original “Cronut” imitator but also thought it could be better. And since chocolate croissants are the logical first step from plain croissants, it only made sense that if Dunkin just added a chocolate filling to their Croissant Donut, it would be a game-changer.

Unfortunately, what Dunkin Donuts is piping into the many laminated layers of flaky croissant-donut dough is not fudge. There is definitely a strong, almost-dark cocoa flavor on the back-end, but the mixture itself is far from the buttery, milky, and intensely chocolaty experience you should get from fudge. It’s also not the hardened and concentrated pain au chocolat filling you might see in a real pastry. Instead, it’s somewhat viscous and tastes like artificially-thickened chocolate syrup. But most of all, it immediately comes across as far too sweet.

Also too sweet are the chocolate and white icings, which lack richness and taste mostly of hardened sugar. Granted, each drizzle is applied with impeccable craftsmanship, but for $2.49, I would hope the Croissant Donut’s value exceeds the aesthetic.

The cloying taste of the icing and the faux fudge might offset a genuine croissant, but because the Croissant Donut is already glazed with a thick and hardened coating of donut glaze, each bite is just sugar on top of sugar. Where the original version of Dunkin’s mashup had some of the savory, buttery aftertaste of croissant dough, this version betrayed too much of its mass-produced donut origins.

Speaking of donut origins, the texture definitely takes a step back from the original croissant donut; the layers are there, but they’re more fluffy than crispy, giving way with even the slightest pressure.

If Dunkin Donuts’s Fudge Croissant Donut was a hit, I’d for sure take credit for its existence and possibly even sue the company for copyright infringement. As it stands, I’ll save myself the legal hassle and just call it like I taste it: the Fudge Croissant Donut is an overpriced sugar bomb, and does neither a chocolate croissant nor a chocolate-iced donut justice.

(Nutritional Facts – 400 calories, 20 grams of fat, 12 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 25 milligrams of cholesterol, 300 milligrams of sodium, 50 grams of carbohydrates, 1 gram of fiber, 25 grams of sugar, and 5 grams of protein.)

Item: Dunkin’ Donuts Fudge Croissant Donut
Purchased Price: $2.49
Size: N/A
Purchased at: Dunkin’ Donuts
Rating: 5 out of 10
Pros: Addition of chocolate filling into Croissant Donut. Indulgent dark cocoa flavored filling gets good coverage throughout the interior layers. Possible hope that fast casual research and development people read my reviews. Saving money on legal fees.
Cons: Chocolate filling doesn’t taste buttery or milky like “fudge”. Novelty of the croissant layers gets lost in the overly cloying icing and donut glaze. Too much donut taste and not enough buttery balance. More than half a day’s saturated fat.

Author: Adam

REVIEW: Hershey’s Carrot Cake Kisses

REVIEW: Lay’s Korean Barbecue Potato Chips (Flavor Swap)

REVIEW: Kellogg’s Smorz Cereal (2016)

REVIEW: Kellogg’s Jif PB&J Strawberry Cereal

REVIEW: Dunkin’ Donuts Fudge Croissant Donut

Basic