REVIEW: Cheetos Flamin’ Hot Smoky Ghost Pepper Puffs

I’ve never been much of one for eating something hot just for the sake of saying I did it. I don’t need a Guatemalan Insanity Pepper to make me feel macho. But I like spicy things. I usually get my Thai food “Thai hot.” I over-wasabi when I eat sushi. A little burn – when correctly applied – makes me feel alive.

While I’ve never had an ACTUAL ghost pepper, the flavor seems to have popped up everywhere over the past year plus. Burger King did an orange-bunned ghost pepper Whopper last October. Arby’s had the Diablo Dare last year, too. And within the past few months, Wendy’s has gotten in on the act with a ghost pepper sandwich and fries.

I’ve had none of these. It’s not because I’m not interested, don’t get me wrong. It’s more like if I’m not eating fast food to review for this site, I’m usually only interested in getting something tried and true. Something I know I’ll enjoy. Like everything else, fast food has gotten too expensive; my metabolism ain’t what it used to be.

The nice thing about the new Flamin’ Hot Smoky Ghost Pepper Cheetos Puffs, however, is that it’s pretty low risk — even if they’re terrible, I’m only out a single Abe Lincoln. And I don’t mind tossing a bag of chips.

(Okay, that’s a lie. I’ll hang on to it for years, slowly nibbling away and also offering them up to unsuspecting guests with a friendly, “Hey, you like to consume food. Would you like a handful of these? How about the whole bag?” Eventually, they’ll grow stale and inedible, at which point I will still have a few pieces at a time for the next three months before I finally pull the trigger on a full expulsion.)

From an appearance standpoint, you know exactly what you’re getting into with these. In addition to being shaped like peppers, they are an aggressively violent shade of red. A slight smoky vinegar aroma wafts up when you open the bag. That artificial smoke flavor is prevalent in the first second of the bite – I was surprised by that and appreciated the layered flavoring – and then the heat immediately sets your tongue on fire. There was no “slow build” here, just immediate and unapologetic mouth-arson.

If you don’t like hot, well… come on. Did you really think you might enjoy these? If you’re someone who doesn’t like chili unless it makes you weep and you end each night with half a pack of Tums, you may be unimpressed. These didn’t make me cry. They were tolerable, but even still, the hottest Cheeto (or chip or cracker) I’ve ever eaten.

Additionally, I enjoyed the fact that these weren’t just novelty-hot. There were nuanced layers of flavor and an appreciable complexity you don’t find in many other “hot” snacks. But still, a little goes a long way, so let’s not be surprised if this bag sees the next presidential election. As long as the other people in my house keep remembering to close the bag up tight, anyway.

Purchased Price: $4.30
Size: 7 oz bag
Purchased at: Walmart
Rating: 7 out of 10
Nutrition Facts: (28 grams) 160 calories, 12 grams of fat, 1.5 grams of saturated fat, 0 milligrams of cholesterol, 140 milligrams of sodium, 14 grams of carbohydrates, less than 1 gram of fiber, less than 1 gram of sugar, and 1 gram of protein.

REVIEW: Wendy’s Canned Chili

Fast food sneaks into the grocery store with varying degrees of success. Taco Bell’s range of products, from shells to sauces, are mostly fine. Arby’s frozen curly fries? Awful. In olden times, before I got sober, it was pretty hard to beat White Castle’s frozen cheeseburgers after a night spent over-imbibing. (The real thing would be the preferable choice, obviously, but we haven’t had them in my market for a couple of decades now.)

I’ve never been a regular consumer of Wendy’s chili. I’ve had it a few times on top of a potato, sure, but it’s never anything I’ve specifically set out to consume. But now that it’s available in canned form, I felt like I needed to have both. And that I should taste them side-by-side. Blindfolded, in fact, to see if I could tell which was which.

Is a blindfolded taste test a little elaborate for a can of chili? No. No, it’s not.

The first one I tried was thick and meaty. There were plenty of beans and a moderate amount of seasoning. It was salty, but not unbearably so. There were no discernible chunks of tomato, but the base was plenty tomato-y with a slight tang. If you’re into heat, this one won’t do much for you; I’ve received kisses from my grandmother that were spicier than this.

The next chili was much thinner than the first. Soupy, even. The meat chunks were few and far between. There were large, acidic pieces of stewed tomato. The base was sweet with just a little hint of heat. Despite nearly everything else being entirely different, the beans were identical to the beans in the first bowl.

So, two very different chilis allow me to say this: if you dislike Wendy’s chili, you might still like the canned version. Conversely, if you love Wendy’s version, don’t necessarily expect to love the canned variety, too. You might, you might not.

But the moment you’re all waiting for — which chili was which? The first chili — the meaty, seasoned one that I enjoyed quite a bit — was the canned version. The runny bland one was the ACTUAL Wendy’s chili.

Is this a shocking revelation? Perhaps not. Handmade chili from a human Wendy’s person is liable to vary in quality; AI chili made by a robot and canned by a machine is bound to be more formulaically standard. But this isn’t a bad thing. I’d definitely buy the canned chili again, but the other one? I feel no such compulsion.

Purchased Price: $4.42
Size: 15 oz can
Rating: 7 out of 10
Nutrition Facts: (per 1 cup) 280 calories, 12 grams of fat, 5 grams of saturated fat, 0.5 grams of trans fat, 65 milligrams of cholesterol, 1040 milligrams of sodium, 26 grams of carbohydrates, 7 grams of fiber, 6 grams of sugar (2 grams of added sugar), and 17 grams of protein.

REVIEW: Limited Edition Churro Kit Kat

It’s always the summer of something now. Last year was the Summer of Street Corn, if I remember correctly. I think we had the Summer of Matcha the summer before that. Watermelon also had its own summer at some point recently, though you could argue that EVERY summer is the Summer of Watermelon.

My point being George Costanza was way ahead of this trend when he declared 1997 “The Summer of George.” Wait, that wasn’t my point. My point is maybe 2023 will be the Summer of Churro.

Ben & Jerry’s recently brought Churray for Churros to store shelves, and now Kit Kat is following suit with its take on the cinnamony-sugary fried-dough classic. Associate Kit Kat Brand Manager Alex Herzog recently told Food & Wine magazine, “We hope that every bite of the buttery, churro flavor and familiar crispy crunch of our wafers unlocks memories of the delightful experience of enjoying freshly baked churros from the boardwalk stand, amusement park, or the local fair.”

This is a pretty big goal from a candy bar, even one as renowned as the Kit Kat. (Also, full disclosure — I’ve never had a churro at any of these places. A funnel cake, sure, but not a Churro. Note to self: pitch Funnel Cake Kit Kat to Alex Herzog.) So did the R&D geniuses manage to evoke state fairs, amusement parks, or trips to the boardwalk?

I mean… no. It’s an okay candy bar, but those are lofty aspirations.

For starters, I didn’t really get anything that could be construed as “buttery” with this bar. At first taste, you get the familiar waxy coating of a Kit Kat, only it’s a little more vanilla-ish, or maybe white chocolatey than the standard chocolate shell. After a few chews, I got a very mild cinnamon flourish, but it’s gone just as quickly as it appeared.

And really, that’s the biggest miss of this bar; had they gone heavy with the cinnamon, it might’ve really been something special. Instead, it’s very much an “eh, if you’re a Kit Kat aficionado, you’ll wanna try, but temper your expectations,” or if you’re only “a casual Kit Katarian” (just made that up, but we’re going with it) and you’re selective about your candy intake for health and wellness purposes, I probably wouldn’t bother. The 220 calories here would be better spent on an actual part of a churro or a few bites from a funnel cake.

Regardless, I am excited to usher in the Summer of Churro. I wonder what Pringles has planned?

Purchased Price: $1.32
Size: 1.5 oz bar
Purchased at: Walmart
Rating: 6 out of 10
Nutrition Facts: (1 package) 220 calories, 12 grams of fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 7 grams of saturated fat, 0 mg of cholesterol, 30 milligrams of sodium, 27 grams of total carbohydrates, 20 gram of total sugars, 0 grams of fiber, and 2 grams of protein.

REVIEW: Papa Johns Doritos Cool Ranch Papadia

Before consuming the new Doritos Cool Ranch Papadia, I’d never tried a Papadia. Is it because it’s an awful name, and I genuinely dislike ordering terribly named things? Maybe. It’s why I never wanted to order the Arby-Q or the Bell Beefer.

My first thought was, why not call this what it is — an unsealed calzone? And then I had THIS brilliant realization — ohhhh, it’s an Italian quesadilla… a Papadia! That, however, is incorrect. According to the Internet, the Papadia name was inspired by the piadina, a folded flatbread sandwich native to northern Italy.

And while I stand by my assertion that this is a stupidly named food object, I’m glad I ordered it. Because the Papadia — specifically this new Cool Ranch Doritos variety — was tasty.

Available as preset chicken, steak, or beef varieties (with the option to construct your own), the Cool Ranch Papadia is a “Flatbread-style sandwich covered with bold ranch seasoning, loaded with Doritos Cool Ranch Flavored Dressing, melty cheese, ripe tomatoes, onions & chicken.” Web copy also suggests, “Comes with a side of Doritos Cool Ranch Flavored Dressing for dipping.”

I’m sorry to say that my store didn’t have the Cool Ranch-flavored dipping sauce. Instead, I was given a tub of regular ranch and a half-hearted shrug.

The shell’s exterior was heavily dusted with Cool Ranch powder and was way ranchier than Taco Bell’s Cool Ranch shell. It carried with it all of the zestiness one would expect from its namesake chip. If you have an aversion to Cool Ranch, you’re going to have a bad time with this thing. (I might also ask what you were thinking by ordering it to begin with, though.)

The inside was about what you’d expect from a Papa Johns pizza, ingredient-wise, meaning— the chicken was a little prefabricated tasting but identifiably chicken, the onions seemed fresh, and the tomatoes… okay, well, look: I hate hot tomatoes. I would never intentionally order tomatoes on a pizza. But because we at The Impulsive Buy order the food unamended, there they were. And the tomatoes were of fine quality, don’t get me wrong. They’re just not for me, you know?

The ranch sauce was evenly applied throughout and complemented the other toppings (innards?) nicely. I wouldn’t say it wasn’t distinguishably “Cool Ranch,” but honestly, it was a bit hard to isolate the sauce.

One thing I found curious about the preset arrangement was the lack of bacon. Chicken, bacon, and ranch is a classic culinary trio that’s pretty hard to beat on a sandwich, in a salad, on a pizza, or in a chalupa. Maybe it was a cost-saving measure; if so, thumbs down. That said, this was a really enjoyable item overall. I’ll order it again before it leaves — only this time, I’ll swap the retched tomatoes for bacon, pocketbook be damned.

Purchased Price: $7.99
Rating: 7 out of 10
Nutrition Facts: 840 calories, 32 grams of fat, 13 grams of saturated fat, 1 gram of trans fat, 140 milligrams of cholesterol, 2330 milligrams of sodium, 82 grams of carbohydrates, 0 grams of fiber, 10 grams of sugar, and 55 grams of protein.

REVIEW: Limited Edition Blackout Cake Oreo Cookies

Quick show of hands. Who knows what a blackout cake is?

Okay. Now how many NON-New Yorkers know what a blackout cake is? As a tried and true Midwesterner, I’d heard the name, but that was about it. Before researching, I assumed that it derived its moniker from being extremely chocolatey; and while it is, in fact, quite chocolatey indeed, the “Brooklyn” Blackout Cake, as it is also known, received its name during WW2 when, per a Politico article, “blackout drills were performed in homes around the borough to avoid silhouetting battleships leaving from the Brooklyn Navy Yard.” Ebinger’s, a beloved Brooklyn bakery chain, applied the name to a popular cake of its design, a multi-layer chocolate affair with pudding between the layers and chocolate cake crumbs on its exterior.

Although Ebinger’s closed shop decades ago, the cake is still made by cake makers worldwide. But if you’re not near a bakery — or you don’t want to buy a whole cake, or your preferred bakery doesn’t MAKE a blackout cake — you’re in luck. Because, like most other desserts and dessert-adjacent products, it’s an Oreo now.

But, okay — how does “pudding” translate into an Oreo creme filling? Well, quite honestly, it doesn’t. Pudding is much more of a texture thing, right? And Oreo creme is Oreo creme. Oh sure, sometimes it has little crunchy bits, but the creme can’t go more gelatinous or pudding-esque. So instead of anything evoking an essence of pudding, you’ve got two fairly indiscernible chocolate cremes — one a bit dark (the devil’s food component? They call it “dark chocolate” on the website) — and the other a bit light. They both taste like run-of-the-mill chocolate Oreo filling, and I really couldn’t even tell one was “dark” chocolate.

There’s nothing interesting or new about the crunchy outer exterior, either; it is, unapologetically, a standard chocolate Oreo cookie.

So then, you may be wondering, what’s the point of this Oreo? And to you, I say, I really don’t know. This is a chocolate Oreo with chocolate creme filling. Someone I was sharing them with suggested that they thought one of the cremes was similar to the brownie component of Oreo’s Brookie-O cookie, but that seemed like wishful thinking to me.

In the end, this is a fine product because it’s a chocolate creme Oreo. And those are tasty. But unless you’re a diehard Oreo completist, it’s not the end of the world if you miss out on this release. And if you’re in the market to waste some calories on Oreo cookies, there are plenty of better options. Or if you’re feeling REALLY wild, maybe seek out a blackout cake itself.

Purchased Price: $4.58
Size: 12.2 oz
Purchased at: Walmart
Rating: 6 out of 10
Nutrition Facts: (2 cookies) – 140 calories, 6 grams of fat, 2 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 0 milligrams of cholesterol, 105 milligrams of sodium, 21 grams of carbohydrates, less than 1 gram of fiber, 13 grams of sugar, and 1 gram of protein.