Author: Drew

REVIEW: Dunkin’ Donuts Texas Toast Grilled Cheese Sandwich

Drew 8 Comments

Dunkin' Donuts Texas Toast Grilled Cheese Sandwich

I don’t eat breakfast on-the-go very often, usually opting for a simple bowl of cereal and some OJ at the kitchen table with my kids.  Very Norman Rockwell.  But on rare occasions — like if between the baby and me it’s been a 3-diaper-change morning, or one where I have to shave, put the garbage out, AND explain why you can wear the sparkle shoes or the pink shoes but not the pink sparkle shoes — well, I might have to skip the suburban flakes and grab something on the way.  When that happens, it’s always Dunkin’ Donuts and I invariably get the same thing: a bismark, and a chocolate glazed (January-August) or pumpkin donut (September-December).  This does not change, because while there are other donuts I like, those are the best.  Feel free to disagree (everyone should take up a lost cause once in their life), but it should help you understand why I recently confused myself by walking into DD and not only not getting my usual order, but not getting a breakfast food whatsoever. 

That is, of course, due to DD’s latest offering, the Texas Toast Grilled Cheese.  Sort of a lunchtime offshoot of the recent Big N’ Toasty Breakfast Sandwich, your first thought on seeing one might be that it looks like they took the BN’T and stripped out the bacon and eggs.  And… there would be a lot of truth to that, as it does play sort of the basic model compared to the fully loaded BN’T.  To be specific, the new sandwich is two thick pieces of Texas toast with two slices of American cheese and one slice of cheddar in between.  The whole thing is ironically oven toasted rather than grilled, served hot (or in my case, kinda warm).

Any good grilled cheese sandwich obviously lives or dies by the cheese.  If you were hoping the Double D was going to get esoteric with their diary selection, guess again — American and cheddar are about the most predictable options they could’ve gone with.  The other side of that coin is that those are the most popular cheeses because they’re both really good.  However, I still think DD might’ve increased this sandwich’s mass appeal by giving us a few options to choose from, like Monterey Jack or Swiss.  But they didn’t, so you’ll get American and cheddar and like it.  And I did, mostly.  The cheddar had just a bit of kick to it, slightly sharp, which I like in a cheddar.  But it was mostly overwhelmed by the decent but standard American cheese, no doubt due to the 2:1 ratio.  Both kinds were melted well, another key component of any successful grilled cheese.  Overall, my impression of the cheeses was that they’re pretty good, but not exactly lighting the world on fire.

Dunkin' Donuts Texas Toast Grilled Cheese Sandwich Innards

Ironically, my favorite part might’ve been what’s traditionally the most boring aspect of a sandwich, namely the bread.  Texas toast is one of those foods that’s fantastic when done well but really disappointing if it’s either under-toasted or burned.  Fortunately mine was just the right texture, toasted perfectly so that it was soft enough to easily dig into, but with enough crunch to feel satisfying.  It also tasted buttery, another must-have.

But that’s really it, because the cheese and the bread are the only two components of the sandwich.  Apparently it can be customized with bacon or ham, but DD might be shooting themselves in the foot by not better advertising that — I didn’t see any such option listed on the menu and my server didn’t offer it.  Which is a shame — I would’ve been willing to throw in a few more cents or a saucy wink in exchange for meat, because that’s the kind of carniv-whore I am.  Other than the missing pork, I didn’t mind too much because I’m a sandwich minimalist, but those who like to indulge in things like “pickles” and “condiments” and “fixins” will no doubt be left wanting worse than my high school girlfriend.  You know, when she didn’t get into the college she wanted.  Obviously.

Finally, not for nothing, but the fat and sodium content are more worrisome than my longstanding crush on Erin Esurance.  (Whatever, I’m not the only one.  The internet told me so!)  The sandwich is pretty filling, but unless it’s the only thing you’re eating for lunch, it could easily have you packing on the ell-bees.  I know, unlike the rest of Dunkin’ Donuts’ fare, but still.  Moderation is advised.

(Nutrition Facts – 1 sandwich – 510 calories, 270 calories from fat, 30 grams of fat, 13 grams of saturated fat, 940 milligrams of sodium, 41 grams of carbohydrates, 3 grams of sugar, and 18 grams of protein)

Item: Dunkin’ Donuts Texas Toast Grilled Cheese Sandwich
Price: $2.99
Size: 1 sandwich
Purchased at: Dunkin’ Donuts
Rating: 6 out of 10
Pros: Breaking out of your routine.  A little bite to the cheddar.  Melty, melty, melty.  Crunchy Texas toast.  Buttery flavor.  Fairly filling.  Ability to add meat.
Cons: Not publicizing the ability to add meat.  High fat and sodium content.  Lacking in the ingredients department.  No additional cheese selections.  I can make this exact sandwich in my kitchen in 5 minutes.

REVIEW: Limited Edition Wheat Thins Sweet Cinnamon

Drew 8 Comments

Limited Edition Wheat Thins Sweet Cinnamon Crackers Box

Ah, crackers.

For some reason I always find it hard starting off a cracker review. Maybe it’s because crackers aren’t a very sexy food. Candy is sexy. Fruit can be very sexy. Ice cream? Ice cream is definitely sexy, which is ironic since eating a lot of it will have the opposite effect on you. But crackers are not sexy. Nobody has ever eaten crackers off someone’s naked body, and if they have, I don’t want to know about it.

But hey, it can’t all be fast food and desserts — at some point you’ve got to devote some time to the staples, the unsung members of the snack world. And if that snack knows it isn’t glamorous but has gone to the trouble of decking itself out in sweet cinnamon for the holidays to make a good impression on your visiting relatives? Well, that says a lot. Be honest, ladies: what impresses you more, the guy who’s naturally gorgeous, or the one who goes out of his way to clean up, dress up, and put his best foot forward? Exactly. Wheat Thins Sweet Cinnamon are the homely guy who knows he doesn’t stand a chance with you, but dammit, he’s going to give it his best shot anyway. You’ve got to admire that.

Mind you, I do like regular Wheat Thins, but I’m used to eating them as little sandwiches with cheese and/or pepperoni slices in between. It’s rare that I’ll eat straight from a box of Wheat Thins, but that’s what seems most appropriate here, since neither cheese nor meat makes for a natural combination with cinnamon. I would guess that’s why these are limited edition for the holidays, since they lose a little bit of their versatility for party settings, where you’re more likely to want to make cracker sandwiches. However, what the cinnamon Wheat Thins lose in party food-ability, they gain back in solo use. After all, you’re more likely to dig into a box of something on the couch if it’s sweet and can be enjoyed straight out of the package, without needing to cut cheese slices or get out the platter and martini glasses, or whatever people without two young kids do at parties these days. (Network? Spin the bottle? Get crunk? I just don’t know.)

It’s fair to say my expectations were pretty high for this product, because let’s be honest, cinnamon is awesome and it’s pretty hard to screw up sprinkling it on a cracker. That’d be like praising me for writing a review that successfully uses the word “ass” three times… it’s just kind of expected. Plus the snowman on the box predisposes me to wanting to like whatever’s inside, a tactic the government would do well to remember when issuing jury summons. With all that being the case, my takeaway is that the cinnamon Wheat Thins are pleasant, and that’s probably the correct adjective. Not “amazing” or “mind-blowing” or “pulchritudinous,” but pleasant. A nice winter treat that would probably pair well with some hot chocolate while snuggled up with a loved one, watching Jimmy Stewart tough-talk an angel on Christmas.

[As an aside, do you know how hard it is to type “thins” rather than “things”? Your fingers just want to add that “g”. Try it!]

Limited Edition Wheat Thins Sweet Cinnamon Crackers Closeup

You’re familiar with what you’re going to get if you’ve ever had Wheat Thins before, because the size, consistency, and texture are the same as they’ve always been, the only difference being the addition of cinnamon and sugar. Speaking of which, I suspect this will be a polarizing product based on the amount of cinnamon per cracker. It’s not insignificant — no one will confuse these with having a “hint of” cinnamon. That said, they aren’t comprised solely of cinnamon and sugar pressurized and molded into the vague shape of a Wheat Thin either. I personally found them tasty and think most people will as well, but anyone hoping these would equate to a slightly larger version of Cinnamon Toast Crunch is advised to keep walking. (However, I did dip some in milk, just out of curiosity. Not bad, but not something you’d want to eat out of a bowl with a spoon.)

Like a lot of you would have guessed, Wheat Thins Sweet Cinnamon is a product that offers zero surprises. It’s exactly what the name implies it to be, and it looks and tastes exactly how you’d expect. That doesn’t have to be a bad thing, though — the crackers ARE tasty, and they’re a safe snack food you can enjoy equally with friends or home alone in your pajamas. (Those of you who wear them, anyway. I know our readers like to walk on the wild side.) If snack foods were an ’80s movie, they’d be the quiet nerd who never gets noticed until finally the stars align and Molly Ringwald takes a chance on him, only to discover that, hey, this guy’s got a little spice to him! That’s Wheat Thins Sweet Cinnamon. Enjoy them, and enjoy the holiday season!

(Nutrition Facts – 14 pieces – 140 calories, 45 calories from fat, 5 grams of total fat, 1 gram of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 3 grams of polyunsaturated fat, 1 gram of monounsaturated fat, 0 milligrams of cholesterol, 90 milligrams of sodium, 55 milligrams of potassium, 21 grams of total carbohydrates, 2 grams of dietary fiber, 5 grams of sugar, and 2 grams of protein.)

Item: Limited Edition Wheat Thins Sweet Cinnamon
Price: $2.99
Size: 9.5 ounces
Purchased at: Wegman’s
Rating: 6 out of 10
Pros: Reasonably nutritious. Snowman on box. Homely crackers who doll themselves up for you. Can be readily enjoyed solo. Unsurprising but pleasant taste. Decent in milk. Nabbing Molly Ringwald at the end.
Cons: Not bringing sexy back to crackers. No good for making mini-sandwiches. Doesn’t keep you guessing. Not an effective breakfast cereal replacement. Probably not enough cinnamon and sugar for some people.

REVIEW: Edy’s Slow Churned Rich & Creamy Triple Cookie Fudge Sundae

Drew 5 Comments

Edy's Slow Churned Rich & Creamy Triple Cookie Fudge Sundae

If you’ve ever wondered how dedicated I am to this gig — if I’m just in it for the obscene salary, free back rubs, and ungodly number of loose women — then wonder no more.  A guy who’s just phoning it in, when reviewing a triple-flavored tub of ice cream, will simply dig in a spoon at random and start going to town.  A true professional will make certain he’s taking bites from each individual segment to ensure he’s getting an accurate flavor reading, pausing between each to “cleanse the palate” with some water.  He will do this no matter how hoity-toity it may make him feel at the time or how many beers he must drink afterward to not feel like a snobbish food critic.  Hypothetically.

But let’s face it: the world is changing.  Things that delighted and enthralled older generations just can’t cut it with today’s consumers, and unless you spent last Saturday in the parlor smoking and listening to the phonograph, I’m sure you agree.  By that token, Neapolitan ice cream was something to lose your shit over in the 1800s and quaintly pleasant in the late 20th century, but it’s just not cutting it in a new millennium.  Recognizing this trend, Edy’s has acted to rectify it by introducing a new tri-flavor: Triple Cookie Fudge Sundae.  Or possibly they just read my mind and realized I don’t like strawberry.  Either way: woohoo!  Note that this is part of Edy’s “Slow Churned” slightly healthier line of ice cream.  There apparently is another version in the “Fun Flavors” line, but I haven’t seen it.

As you can tell from the picture and probably could have guessed otherwise, a circular container is not conducive to perfectly equal proportions between the flavors.  That’s bad news if you’re a chocolate fiend, since it’s confined to a thin band sandwiched between the two vanilla-based varieties.  On the plus side, the circular nature of the tub favors those who like to mix their flavors, allowing one to easily scoop a swath through all three.  (Ice cream segregationists are out of luck… take your intolerance elsewhere, this is a progressive blog.)  Again, I tried to sample each flavor individually for reviewing purposes, but if you’re just eating a bowl absentmindedly while watching TV, you’re going to have definite flavor mixing; whether that’s a plus or a minus obviously comes down to personal preference.

Edy's Slow Churned Rich & Creamy Triple Cookie Fudge Sundae Closeup

The first flavor listed is vanilla chocolate chip & cookie dough, which seems overly verbose: I think the vanilla part is implied, and do you really need that ampersand in there?  Regardless, it’s pretty good ice cream, fairly creamy with a nice aftertaste.  (In fact, the carton itself boasts of its “now creamier taste,” though since this is a new flavor, I assume they’re talking about the slow-churned line in general.)  If I have a complaint, it’s that it doesn’t overload you with cookie dough chunks  — they’re there, but not exploding out of every spoonful.

The middle variety is chocolate with fudge swirl, ironically perhaps the most boring flavor.  That’s not easy to pull off when you’re sandwiched between two varieties of vanilla, which should tell you something.  It’s perfectly fine chocolate ice cream, but the fudge swirl is tasty but inconsistent, and I usually like something with contrasting texture mixed into my ice cream, though your mileage may vary.  For that reason, I wasn’t disappointed that this flavor accounts for the lowest total percentage of the tub.

For some reason the vanilla & brownies tastes a little creamier than the vanilla cookie dough, which is probably my imagination since I’m sure they were made from the same vanilla base.  The brownie chunks are surprisingly gooey and taste slightly like dark chocolate.  I don’t have any complaints about them except that there aren’t enough in there, even in comparison to the chocolate chip cookie dough, which as you’ll recall wasn’t exactly overwhelming me with its density either.

Taken as a whole, Edy’s Triple Cookie Fudge Sundae isn’t an unqualified success, but it’s certainly far from a failure.  I enjoyed myself while eating it, and I definitely wouldn’t be averse to having some again.  And since it’s slow churned, there’s a lot less fat and calories than regular ice cream, which is great.  But at the same time, it lacks that real “pop” that makes the memory of it stick with you long after the container is finished.  Maybe it was the stinginess of the mix-ins, or perhaps it was a bad idea to have two vanilla-based flavors… swapping one out with butter pecan, say, or making two of them chocolate-based could’ve been a way to go.  Still, if you decide to pick up a carton, I think you will like it.  You just might want to adjust your expectations going in for a good, not a great flavor.

(Nutrition Facts — 1/2 cup — 110 calories, 25 calories from fat, 2.5 grams of total fat, 1.5 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 10 milligrams of cholesterol, 40 milligrams of sodium, 19 grams of total carbohydrates, 0 grams of dietary fiber, 13 grams of sugars, and 3 grams of protein)

Item: Edy’s Slow Churned Rich & Creamy Triple Cookie Fudge Sundae
Price: $3.39
Size: 1.5 quarts
Purchased at: Giant
Rating: 7 out of 10
Pros: Kicks Neapolitan ice cream’s ass.  Not that bad for you.  Promotes integration.  Name is fun to say.  Creamy.  Reviewers who go the extra distance.
Cons: Too much J.D., not enough Turk.  Mix-ins not prevalent enough.  Ice cream segregationists.  Chocolate with fudge swirl should not be (but is) boring.  Lacks that “wow” factor that separates stars from supporting ice cream.

REVIEW: Kellogg’s Limited Edition Printed Fun Frosted Sugar Cookie Pop-Tarts

Drew 6 Comments

Kellogg's Limited Edition Printed Fun Frosted Sugar Cookie Pop-Tarts

The element of surprise can be a valuable tool.  As the Japanese poet Bash famously observed, “When you surprise your enemy, you fuck his shit up.”  [Translated]  That’s true both on the battlefield and in the kitchen. I’ve eaten and reviewed plenty of foods that have surprised me, some pleasantly, some less so.  One of the draws of foreign food, as related to me by people who try it, is the chance to encounter new tastes you’ve never experienced before and weren’t expecting.

But as God is my witness, Pop-Tarts are not such a food.  No one buys Pop-Tarts for the mystery factor.  You purchase them because you know exactly what you’re getting: a flaky pastry, probably frosting on top, and filled with whatever flavor you selected, be it S’Mores or Raspberry Milkshake or Soylent Green.  If I got a Pop-Tart that didn’t taste like what it was named, I would only eat the entire box in three days under extreme protest, I promise you that.  So when I learned Kellogg’s was releasing another limited edition holiday variety of Pop-Tarts, this one flavored like sugar cookies, my only thought was: they’d damn well better taste like sugar cookies.  Well, as it turns out:

…..yeah, basically they taste like sugar cookies.  Phew.

While no living human has eaten as many Pop-Tarts varieties as The Impulsive Buy’s editor-in-chief, I have been around the block a few times myself, and these are among the better-tasting Pop-Tarts I’ve tried.  They don’t taste exactly like real sugar cookies, which obviously don’t have vaguely marshmallow-y filling inside them like these do, and the texture is a bit different from crumbly sugar cookies.  You wouldn’t mistake them for cookies in a blind taste test is what I’m saying, but you’d still probably ask for another bite.  The sweetness lingers in your mouth afterward and might be too much for those without a sweet tooth, though I doubt the sugar-averse are picking up a package of these anyway.  And as simple as sugar cookies are, I’m glad Kellogg’s didn’t try making them Sugar Cookie Ice Cream Cone (With Rainbow Sprinkles and Hot Fudge) Pop-Tarts, which would’ve ruined it.  For once they wisely showed some restraint.

Kellogg's Limited Edition Printed Fun Frosted Sugar Cookie Pop-Tarts Foil WrapperNot a lot, mind you.  I’m guessing someone’s train of thought was that if the pastry itself was going to be straightforward, they’d better jazz it up in other respects.  Said jazzing occurs two ways, the first of which is the wrappers.  As you probably know, they come in packs of two inside shiny foil wrappers. 

What I’ve never seen before is little word balloons with slogans extolling the virtues of the product contained therein, and yet there they were.  I’m guessing they’re randomly generated, since one of my wrappers sported the phrase “We look good in silver,” and immediately below it, “Silver is your color.”  Some are almost slightly funny, most just annoying.  I kept looking for one promising good things were right around the corner, but no dice.

But trite-ass slogans don’t sell Pop-Tarts, as my grandmother used to say — the main draw, other than the taste, is the “printed fun” promised in the name.  See, each pastry hosts a scene of a smiling creature frolicking in winter, be it kittens skiing or a penguin flipping you the bird (I assume… it’s hard to tell without fingers), or most bizarrely, a snowman bobsled team sporting two of Jamaica’s three national colors, suggesting someone at Kellogg’s has a sly sense of humor and a fondness for Cool Runnings.

Kellogg's Limited Edition Printed Fun Frosted Sugar Cookie Pop-Tarts PrintThe polar bear is skating rather than enjoying a cool, refreshing Coca-Cola, missing out on a golden opportunity for cross-promotion if you ask me, but then food blogging’s gain was the marketing world’s loss, obviously.  Anyway, they’re… well, they’re cute.  It’s not like kids needed an extra incentive to eat warm rectangles of sugar and fat, but they fit the holiday theme and allow you the chance to bite a seal’s head off without going to jail, so there’s that.

I unapologetically kind of dig these.  I should probably be annoyed by the excessive cuteness of the printed images, far more saccharine than anything contained within the pastry itself.  But… well, it’s the holiday season.  If there’s ever a time to refrain from mocking overly sentimental things, minus the last five paragraphs, this is probably it.  They taste good and pretty similar to actual sugar cookies, the printed images will appeal to their intended audience of children and me, and they can be used as a last-minute gift in a pinch, if it turns out your girlfriend doesn€™t find the “Dick in a Box” skit as hilarious as you do.  Overall, as shameless holiday tie-ins go, they’re definitely among the better ones.

(Nutritional Info – 1 pastry – 200 calories, 50 calories from fat, 5 grams of fat, 2 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans 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, 14 grams of sugar, and 2 grams of protein)

Item: Kellogg’s Limited Edition Printed Fun Frosted Sugar Cookie Pop-Tarts
Price: $3.39
Size: 21.2 oz/12 toaster pastries
Purchased at: Acme
Rating: 7 out of 10
Pros: (Mostly) taste like sugar cookies.  Delicious filling.  Abundant frosting.  Affordable price.  Cute animal images.  Keeping it simple.  Some of the foil word balloons.
Cons: The element of surprise in Pop-Tarts.  Atsa lotta sugar!  Missed marketing opportunities.  Overly cutesy.  Most of the foil word balloons.

REVIEW: Kellogg’s Choco Zucaritas/Frosted Flakes Chocolate

Drew 28 Comments

Frosted Flakes Chocolate Spanish

Hola, mi amigos!  Como estas?  Esta es la Compra Impulsiva, y hoy–

Ah, dammit… sorry, I was looking at the wrong side of the box.  As it happens, the package of Frosted Flakes Chocolate I picked up has English on one side; but instead of a maze or outlandish claims about being healthy for you on the back, we’re treated to a mirror image of the front except the product name is now “Choco Zucaritas.”  (Es nuevo!)  Interestingly, the top and bottom of the box only use the Spanish name, and that’s what’s shown above the nutritional information on the side, so I guess it’s primarily targeted at Spanish speakers?  Either way, I applaud Kellogg’s for reaching out to the Latino community, despite it serving as another painful reminder that when choosing a second language in school, I picked French instead of one that might conceivably be useful to me someday.  That’s okay — I’ll be the one laughing when Canada finally invades, ya hosers.

But let’s get serious for a second: we’re talking about a product that on the surface sounds… well, fantastic.  Awe-inspiring.  God’s own breakfast cereal, one might reasonably speculate.  I’ve sampled plenty of cereals in my day, but I always find my way back to Frosted Flakes in the end, because it’s one of the best.  Which begs the question: can you improve upon the best?  True innovators always think so, and Kellogg’s has given it a shot by adding a chocolate coating to the classic sugared flakes.  You might consider that overkill — can your palate really handle frosting AND chocolate at the same time? — but it’s that kind of thinking that could have deprived the world of Peanut Butter Cups, so I’m prepared to give this a shot.

Frosted Flakes Chocolate Closeup

Opening the package immediately wafts a strong chocolate scent into your nostrils.  I wondered for half a second why it smelled so familiar before realizing it’s the identical aroma given off by Cocoa Krispies.  Promising, and a look at the flakes doesn’t change that assessment, though it is a little surprising.  I think I was expecting flakes that were entirely chocolate, but that’s not what these are.  Nor are they regular flakes with just a slight dusting of chocolate on them.  It’s a little hard to describe, but basically they look like Frosted Flakes that are in the process of converting to chocolate, like you caught them mid-transformation or something.  Remember in The Monster Squad when that cop shot Dracula, and they found him stuck halfway between human and bat forms?  It’s like that.  Also, don’t think about that scene before you eat these, it’s gross.

Frosted Flakes ChocolateUnfortunately, if the smell and the appearance of Frosted Flakes Chocolate are like the first 1:18 of “The Final Countdown,” the taste is the remaining three minutes and fifty-two seconds, where even Europe fans pack up their stuff and head for the exits.  I don’t know what it is, but for some reason the two flavors of frosting and chocolate don’t mesh well together.  It’s just too much, and I’m a guy who never shies away from the most cavity-inducing option.  For the first second or two they taste fine, but then it’s almost like a time delay kicks in and both the sugar and chocolate flavors burst onto the scene at once.  And like every pair of cops ever depicted on TV or in the movies, they don’t play well together.

It highlights the danger of going in with such high expectations, I guess, because it’s not like Frosted Flakes Chocolate are terrible.  They’re chocolatey, they’re sugary, they stay crunchy for the same length of time as the regular variety.  We’re all familiar with gimmick cereals and I guess I hoped these would be different, because chocolate + frosting = win, right?  But it’s like listening to two talented rappers battling, only instead of taking turns they’re both going at the same time, so everything sounds like, “Yo, your girlfriend your momma came over last really knows how to WORK that pole my rhymes are dope, you got no hope to cope, you’re a joke and my ASS, bitch.”  Then they both drop their microphones at once and you go deaf.

Or, as Antonio el Tigre would say: No son gr-r-randes!

(Nutrition Facts — 1 cup — 110 calories, 10 calories from fat, 1 gram of total fat, 1 gram of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 0 milligrams of cholesterol, 135 milligrams of sodium, 45 milligrams of potassium, 26 grams of total carbohydrates, 1 gram of dietary fiber, 12 grams of sugars, 13 grams of other carbohydrates, and 1 gram of protein.)

Item: Kellogg’s Choco Zucaritas… I mean, Frosted Flakes Chocolate
Price: $2.93
Size: 18 ounces
Purchased at: Walmart
Rating: 5 out of 10
Pros: Learning Spanish while I eat breakfast.  Smells just like Cocoa Krispies.  The Monster Squad.  Satisfying your curiosity.  Peanut butter cups.  The first 1:18 of “The Final Countdown.”  Both individual tastes are good.
Cons: Chocolate and frosting tastes do not mesh well.  That much hype is a lot to live up to, and it doesn’t.  Choosing French in school.  Simultaneous rap battles.  My rhymes.  No son grandes.