Jeff, Author at The Impulsive Buy

REVIEW: Taco Bell XXL Steak Nachos

November 28, 2012August 30, 2023 Jeff 13 Comments

XXL may be the shirt size you’ll wear if you eat Taco Bell’s new XXL Steak Nachos everyday. Also, the colors your bowels will release after eating one will probably rival a Dario Argento horror classic.

XXL is an appropriate description for these steak nachos. The damn box it comes in is a foot long! The thing weighs almost a pound!! When the drive-thru lady handed the nachos over to me, she had to bend her arm slightly!!! I have penis envy looking at the length of this container!!!!! How many exclamation points can I stuff in this paragraph?!!!!

I felt like I was buying a box of cereal from Taco Bell, that’s how mammoth the plastic container was. I know I’m supposed to talk about the food but I was obsessed how large this was. I felt like Dr. Michio Kaku pointing out, “Here’s our sun and now here’s our sun compared to a red giant!” My wife and I were stunned at the size of it as it sat imposingly on our coffee table.

Some of the promotion materials urge you to “Dig in.”

With what? A shovel?

I’m going to describe this as eloquently as I can because I’m guessing the photos cannot do any better than my words. The blobs of sour cream and guacamole look small because they are dwarfed by the amount of tortilla chips you get.

First, you have a heap (imagine Linus jumping in a pile of raked leaves kinda-heap) of warm tortilla chips. Then a plop of refried beans mixed in, followed by another larger plop of Velveeta-like nacho cheese, then an ice cream scoop plop of suspiciously bright green guacamole, followed by another plop of low-fat sour cream (Low fat? Does it really matter now, Taco Bell?), then a modest amount of pico de gallo, a conservative dash of shredded cheese, and a paltry amount of steak. It’s sort of like a food bell curve or an edible example of diminishing returns.

Nachos are one of the comfiest foods I can think of, right up there with cheese fries. They taste awesome when you’re sitting on the couch alone. They work just as well as communal food when you’re watching a game with your friends at a wing house. And I suppose…perfect for a party, if you’re throwing a nachos kind of party, which I never do. I feel nachos are a sacred dish and while the preparation is simple, it’s just as easy to fuck up.

I hate to say this folks, but what we have here is a gigantic pile of fuck up.

First, I’m not a fan of this nacho Velveeta-like cheese, but even with that, the consistency should be velvety and smooth. Like most things fun and dirty, the right viscosity is important. My cheese was dribbly and wet. The chips soon drooped as the cheese engulfed them slowly. I’m not even sure why there are little flecks of real cheese except to cheese-tease me with what this could have been. The sprinkling of the cheese was sparse; I think I only got two of the supposed three cheese blend.

However, I’m enamored with Taco Bell’s sour cream. I could write whole sonnets and monologues on this stuff or as I’ve declared before, brush my teeth with it. Yet, the consistency of the sour cream on my nachos were also too wet. The guacamole tasted slightly off, almost metallic, like the tub of green stuff you buy in the supermarket because you’re too impatient to wait for that Hass avocado to ripen.

The duo of these wet globs weighed on the nachos so much that it transformed into a piss poor cheese soup. Honestly, the flavors were just okay but they overwhelmed the pico de gallo which was easy to do since the amount of pico had no chance in the guac and sour cream storm. Oh, but I haven’t even gotten to the star of the XXL nachos, the steak.

I love red meat. I love steak. I will eat the hell out of a rare steak. I’ve drunkenly eaten a raw NY strip out of the fridge twice. I dream of those cartoons where they would tantalize a rabid dog with those oversized T-bone steaks. I’m also a realist, and I know the steak you’re going to get at Taco Bell is not one you would even get at a Perkins diner.

Even with my expectations lower than my father’s credibility, I was floored. You know those beef nuggets you can buy in that slick pouch by the beef jerky section? The steak had the texture and tasted just like it. It was as if the Taco Bell guy back there shook the remaining amount out of his bag he was eating from. There was an artificial smokiness, which I guess supplanted the grilled flavor. Also, thankfully in this case, there were so few of these nuggets. Or maybe they got lost in the condiments. It seems XXL does not mean the quantity of beef on these extra extra large nachos.

All the flavors together did not mesh well either. The artificial smoke from the steak and subpar guacamole ruined it. It was like sucking on pennies and chewing on Slim Jims. I’m all for fast food that is bad for you, but not fast food that tastes bad.

Now one good thing, besides never ordering these again, was the tortilla chips. These familiar triangles were warm, salty, and crispy until the tsunami of condiments drowned them. I’m all for slothsome gluttony, which we just experienced for Thanksgiving (unless you were the ones who stood in line to save $50 to buy a tablet so you can play Angry Birds or Fruit Ninja 3), but who likes to over-indulge if it’s mediocre?

I think the adjective Taco Bell uses, XXL, primes you for up for a good time with these nachos. It’s just too bad because these left me XXL disappointed, just like my imposing family does every Thanksgiving.

(Nutritional Facts – 1160 calories, 61 grams of fat, 10 grams of saturated fat, 0.5 grams of trans fat, 70 mg of cholesterol, 2140 mg of sodium, 115 grams of carbohydrates, 16 grams of dietary fiber, 7 grams of sugar, and 38 grams of protein.)

Item: Taco Bell XXL Steak Nachos
Purchased Price: $5.99
Size: A huge box
Purchased at: Taco Bell
Rating: 4 out of 10
Pros: The chips were warm and seasoned well. The box was amusing. Perfect viscosity. Comfort foods. Wing houses. Beef jerky nuggets, just not in my nachos. Dr. Michio Kaku and Perkins diners, together in one place.
Cons: Condiments didn’t hold up and made the chips droopy. Metallic tasting guacamole. Wrong viscosity. Tired of Black Friday updates on the news Thanksgiving night…enough already!

REVIEW: Burger King Gingerbread Cookie Shake

November 20, 2012September 4, 2023 Jeff 5 Comments

It’s almost holiday/low productivity at work/dealing with annoying parents time.

It’s that time when big band holiday music is played at Crate & Barrel and Banana Republic stores all across the nation to lend that over the top affluence. It’s also that time of year when I relish how bourbon tastes when there’s a chill in the air and that warm feeling in my tummy that follows.

Yet, what I love most about this time of year are the holiday variants of food products that are unleashed. Turkey gravy cough drops, anybody?

Lately I’ve been on a Burger King kick. Partly because BK seems to be one of the few fast foodie joints taking some chances, but, mostly, because BK is within walking distance from my mansion that houses an extensive blazer collection. Also, I can’t drive until my probation is over.

I’m not a big fan of milkshakes, unless it’s a McDonald’s strawberry milkshake. And when I say, “McDonald’s strawberry milkshake,” I mean the vintage version sans whipped cream, the maraschino cherry, and McCafe logo-branded cup. However, as I walked up the curved asphalt in the Burger King drive thru, I couldn’t I pass up what I saw on the backlit menu and in the pictures on the windows? A gingerbread cookie shake.

What came from Burger King’s decked out stainless steel kitchen looked very close to the oversized photos that hung in the window. It was light brown with creamy white swirls throughout the soft serve shake and dolloped with whipped cream and gingerbread cookie crumbles on top. I have no idea what that chemical dairy smell that soft serve exudes, but I’m a fan of it. It’s hard to describe, but when I smell it, I pop a gustation boner.

For a paltry $2.39 (entry fee for the small size) I was given the chance to mentally escape, at least temporarily, the heavy burdens of my ankle bracelet. I straightened my red wool tartan driver’s cap, pressed my button down blue shirt flat with my hands and sat in the booth with determination.

Will I finally tell my wife that I want a divorce because she needs to watch that awful Once Upon A Time show when all I want to do is play Borderlands 2? Will I stand up to the world and tell my probation officer to eat the streets today? Will this be the day my opinion of milkshakes change?

No on all three counts, but allow me to explain.

Great milkshakes have that Goldilocks-like range. Not too watery which makes it like melted ice cream, and not too thick which makes it so hard to suck through a straw that you might as well be performing fellatio. The milkshake I got was perfectly in between.

The gingerbread flavor was at the forefront and it was intense. It was buttery, rich and savory the way excellent gingerbread can be. The cookie bits on the top were a whimsical touch, but also served its purpose to emphasize the gingerbread flavor.
There were notes of musky cloves and cinnamon that played very well with the vanilla soft serve blended in the shake. I could taste hints of ginger, which was nice. I thought it was a possible non-alcoholic liquid holiday drink that could help me deal with the frayed nerves of my family.

As perverted as it sounds, this felt so good going down my throat. For a second I thought, “You know what? Life is going to be all right, buddy.” That neighbor who throws chicken bones on my lawn isn’t so bad; he’s just trying to help me fertilize the grass. And you know what else? When my mother says, “Jeff, you’re an idiot and a mistake, we never wanted you,” it’s her way of motivating me to become a better person.

I love you, Mom.

However, just as I was embracing the complexities of a good ginger cookie, the sweetness of the shake did donuts on my tongue and then monster trucked into some old rusty Pontiacs. My teeth began to hurt from how sweet it was. And Tiger Mom, I hate you! You’re always saying such hurtful things. Why didn’t you give me up for adoption to a Non-Chinese family with no Tiger Moms and unfeeling dads?

Happy Holidays, dammit!

Similar to a tidal wave crashing on shore or your gross uncle who lays a fart in the room, the sweetness takes over everything it can reach its proverbial hands on. Basically it’s as if my taste buds were placed in a sleeper hold and the sugar was shouting in their ears to tap out. “SUBMIT, bitch! Tap out! SUBMIT! You know you want to submit! You don’t have it in you! GIVE UP!”

Even though my experience was slightly ruined by the sweetness of the shake, I kept slurping because that gingerbread flavor was so damn good. However, I did not drink the whole shake because it was pretty decadent. But let me say Burger King’s Gingerbread Cookie Shake is worth a try just for the gingerbread flavor, even though you’ll probably find yourself submitting to the sugar high.

Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ll be submitting myself to my regular old brown liquors to get me through another Thank(less)giving.

(Nutrition Facts – small size – 490 calories, 15 grams of fat, 11 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 30 milligrams of cholesterol, 290 milligrams of sodium, 82 grams of carbohydrates, 70 grams of sugar, 8 grams of protein.)

Other Burger King Gingerbread Cookie Shake reviews:
Grub Grade
Man Reviews Food
On Second Scoop

Item: Burger King Gingerbread Cookie Shake
Purchased Price: $2.39
Size: Small
Purchased at: Burger King
Rating: 6 out of 10
Pros: Gingerbread flavor is buttery and savory. Thickness of shake was perfect. Big band holiday music. Crate & Barrel. Musky clove and subtle cinnamon flavors. Gustation boner. Banana Republic. Gingerbread cookie crumbles on the top are a nice addition. Borderlands 2.
Cons: Too sweet. McCafe vs. the old shakes. Too damn sweet. Once Upon A Time. Really, it is so sweet. So sweet, my teeth hurt.

REVIEW: Limited Edition Fritos Wild ‘n Mild Ranch

October 24, 2012July 19, 2023 Jeff 13 Comments

I’m a product of Generation X, as coined by the famed author Douglas Coupland. Born between the advent of the wood paneled Atari 2600 and the ColecoVision, I was fathered by the 80’s. Scatter in some circular scratch & sniff stickers to boot.

The musty smell of wires and sweat in a mall’s darkened arcade evokes the same feelings in me as one would if they smelled fresh baked chocolate chip cookies from a well-worn oven. That is my nostalgia and that is my Americana.

I cradled my teen angst with multiple viewings of The Breakfast Club, The Hidden (An underrated Kyle MacLachlan classic), and Young Guns, all of which still transport me back to my parachute pants days whenever I catch them on television. My love for this decade led me to collect obscure New Wave singles and albums in college.

My Anglophile nature was a direct result of the “me” decade. I could bore you with theories on the influence Michael Mann and the Miami Vice series (except the weird episode with James Brown and aliens) had on modern cinema, but I won’t.

I still have worn out VCR tapes of bootleg New Order concerts I can’t play because I no longer have a VCR. I miss cassette tapes, as I used to produce my own “radio show” with my younger brother before he discovered pot. My puberty-tinged squeaky voice was heavy on the Staten Island accent, but heavier on the derogatory words.

My show “employed” awful racist characters such as reporters “Char Siu Charlie” who had a horrible off the boat accent and weatherman “Blackman Jones” who would end his report by calling people “jive turkeys.” That was fun, if not appropriate.

Ah, the 80’s are everything to me.

So how is it I never came across Fritos Wild ‘n Mild Ranch Corn Chips when I was a child? It may be that my Mom only bought ShopRite brand regular chips or pretzel twists. This variety was unleashed in the 80s and Fritos made the wise decision to bring these back, albeit in Limited Edition form.

I broke my ranch flavor hymen the way most of us did…Cool Ranch Doritos and ever since then, I’m more than happy to try ranch anything. I’ve never been a fan of corn chips because they have a gritty feel in my mouth and sometimes they smell like sweaty feet. I never made the connection until I was sparring in a failed attempt to get any belt in martial arts and noticed the mats smelled of corn chips.

The ranch flavor sold me immediately when I passed by the non-potato chip shelf, which makes the first time I have bought corn chips out of my own interest. You cannot miss the bag because Fritos uses a teal blue package (I can hear the synths of Jan Hammer) for its Wild ‘n Mild Ranch.

Wild ‘n Mild is an oxymoron. It’s like a Christian band that “rocks” or ordering a good gin martini at an Applebee’s. How can one be wild AND mild? Unless you’re talking about those sexy librarians who have their hair tied up with those chunky black glasses.

There was a strong corn chip smell (or workout mats in my mind) once I opened the bag which made me wary because I didn’t want these to taste just of corn chips. I grabbed a few. There was a nice clean smokiness from the chips that gave way to a creamy mild ranch taste immediately. Let me emphasize this does not taste anything close to Cool Ranch Doritos, but more like its disciplined sarcastic sister who listens to Elbow and watches Downton Abbey.

I really liked them despite being corn chips. The great thing about these is you can eat a handful and not have your tongue overloaded with ranch zest. The ranch flavor, no matter how much you eat, remains in the middle range and the richness of the smoke from the corn is a good compliment.

Nothing really wild exists about these corn chips but I figure someone thought rhyming was a good selling point or calling these just ranch corn chips was boring. If you’re looking for an honest ranch corn chip, Fritos delivers. If you’re looking for something to kick your taste buds into sensory override, you will be disappointed.

That’s my only complaint. I wish the ranch flavor was more prevalent, but balancing a flavor like that is hard. You do get a great spike of ranch when you first eat the chips but it doesn’t linger. Before it quickly disappears, it whispers briefly such as the librarian who checks out your books as she judges your taste in novels and argyle sweater vests.

I’m hoping Fritos shift these from limited edition to a regular product. Granted, the 80s have given us a lot of bad things, shoulder pads in blazers, that horrid “Walking on Sunshine” song, and mullets with rat tails. There are a great deal of good things as well and these Fritos Wild ‘n Mild Ranch are one of them.

(Nutrition Facts – about 28 chips – 150 calories, 10 grams of fat, 1.5 grams of saturated fat, 5 grams of polyunsaturated fat, 2.5 grams of monounsaturated fat, 0 milligrams of cholesterol, 160 milligrams of sodium, 15 grams of carbohydrates, 1 gram of dietary fiber, 0 grams of sugars, and 2 grams of protein.)

Other Limited Edition Fritos Wild ‘n Mild Ranch reviews:
Junk Food Guy

Item: Limited Edition Fritos Wild ‘n Mild Ranch
Purchased Price: $3.49
Size: 10.5 ounces
Purchased at: Publix (where the parking is ridiculously annoying)
Rating: 7 out of 10
Pros: Ranch is not overpowering. Nice clean smokiness from the corn chips. The iconic hot librarian. Ranch is creamy and mild. “The Hidden” will make you pine for mashed potatoes and witness a pre-agent Cooper. New Wave music from the 80s and Elbow.
Cons: Ranch itself could be too mild. If I ever run for an elected position, those tapes will do me in. Limited edition which means who knows how long these will be around. Shoulder pad blazers from the 80s. Char Siu Charlie never hit it big as a reporter.

REVIEW: Burger King Italian Breakfast Burrito

October 16, 2012September 2, 2023 Jeff 4 Comments

I’m guessing there was a conversation between two junior execs at Burger King Headquarters that went down like this.

Junior Executive Douche #1: “Hey, would you rather do an Italian chick or a Latina?”

Junior Executive Douche #2: “What kind of Spanish chick? That’s important.”

Junior Executive Douche #1: “Good point yo, hmmm….Mexican. Mexicans are hot, Selma Hayek is hot. Those broads on Univision are friggin’ balls hot.”

Junior Executive Douche #2: “Bro, so true, so true. Italian chicks are cute too, like that bangin’ one with the nice rack (gestures with two hands by his chest as if he were holding oranges) on that witch show.”

Junior Executive Douche #1: “Witch show? Buffy?”

Junior Executive Douche #2: “No, that’s vampires or something. You know that girl who was a kid actress with Pesci or Danza, I think.”

And after twelve offensive minutes with numerous references to “Sabado Gigante” and Xuxa”, the sordid origins of Burger King’s Italian Breakfast Burrito went from spank bank ammunition to reality.

I imagine this because the burrito tastes exactly like what douchbags would make, rave about, and chow down on before drinking a Red Bull and vodkatini. The name is funny too…Italian…Breakfast…Burrito. Seriously. I can already see popped collars and smell the Axe body sprays.

I have to give Burger King credit for adding a little Italian flavor to make their stale menu a little more eccitare. They had to do something to help them get back the title of Number Two Burger Chain from Wendy’s.

What else can Burger King do?

Well, maybe bring back the subversive King to the forefront in their ad campaign. I love that guy. Also, take this burrito off the menu.

There are several reasons why, including one that is not the corporation’s fault but the individual franchisees. Now before I wake up with a horse’s head next to me wearing a frosted mane and a sombrero, let me plead my case.

Junior Executive Douche #2: “Ya gotta make it the size of my cock!”

Junior Executive Douche #1: “Yeah, Broski. Not mine because the amount of sausage would bankrupt BK if it were the size of mine! (high five slap)”

Yes, Junior Executive Douche #1, the burrito was the size of a porno boner. I was impressed it was similar in size to one of those Taco Bell seven layer behemoths. I incorrectly assumed it was going to be one of those rinky dink skinny breakfast burritos from McDonald’s. The burrito had an alarming heft and I was left stunned because I wasn’t expecting this. Of course, the old adage is quantity does not mean quality and this crappy burrito proves it with an exclamation point.

Forget about the projected bacon shortage, Burger King must be aware of a tomato shortage we know nothing about because I’ve had their chicken parmesan sandwich and there was very little marinara. That was also the case with this lousy burrito.

Both times I purchased it, there was only a smidge (smudge?) of marinara. I actually got angry about it and wanted to place it on the floor so I could stomp on it.

Potatoes are awesome in a burrito and the hash browns in this heavy package were a welcomed surprise. This was a smart move by Burger King. We love fried potatoes and we love them in burritos dammit! They were still crispy despite the moisture that collected inside, but it also may have been due to the minute, non-existent ghost of tomato sauce.

The sausage was too peppery and a bit salty. The flavors were intense on its own, but the hash browns really tempered the pork. The scrambled eggs were just sad puffy yellow blobs but they too assisted in keeping the overpowering sausage at bay. It was, at best, on par with airline scrambled eggs where they look like an obligation rather than something edible.

Along with the marinara sauce, I’m assuming the diced red and green peppers with onions make this Italian. The watery vegetable slurry did give the burrito a nice bitter edge, but something didn’t taste right. I felt there were too many flavors beating each other “Goodfellas”-style trying to grab your taste buds’ attention.

You know “A Tale of Two Cities”? Well, let me give you a tale of two cheeses.

In casseroles, the cheese is important because it binds things together. The melted mozzarella in this burrito was creamy and it blended very well with the multiple ingredients. The mozzarella did its job.

However, the mozzarella couldn’t do its job in the second Burger King Italian Breakfast Burrito I purchased because instead of mozzarella, I was given a burrito with slices of American cheese (which I suppose made it an Italian Americano Breakfast Burrito).

What’s with that, Burger King? You’re as consistent as the writing of How I Met Your Mother this year. Oh, and Ted, you’re a fucking loser…

A Vespa scooter, which I proudly own but can no longer ride, is an iconic Italian image. This burrito is not a Vespa, it’s a clunky Buddy scooter from China with scuff marks and questionable stains on the seat. Avoid.

(Nutrition Facts – 490 calories, 28 grams of fat, 9 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 175 milligrams of cholesterol, 1220 milligrams of sodium, 40 grams of carbohydrates, 3 grams of sugar, 20 grams of protein.)

Item: Burger King Italian Breakfast Burrito
Purchased Price: $2.99
Size: N/A
Purchased at: Burger King
Rating: 4 out of 10
Pros: Fried potato in a burrito. Big for a fast food breakfast burrito. Vespa! Potato was still crispy. Red and green peppers lend well to the flavor. Placing things on the floor and stomping on them. Sabado Gigante and Xuxa.
Cons: American or Mozzarella cheese couldn’t save it. Hardly any marinara sauce. Sad eggs. Axe products. That guy who screams, “Gooooooaaaaaaaal!!!” (drives me nuts). Over-seasoned sausage. This season of How I Met Your Mother. Porno boners.

REVIEW: Burger King Chicken Parmesan Sandwich

September 24, 2012December 24, 2020 Jeff 19 Comments

When I think of Italian comfort food, Burger King comes to mind.

Mmmm…rich garlicky marinara, creamy mozzarella, and herbaceous basil. Wait a minute, you don’t think of Burger King? Neither do I but when I found out BK was putting a Super Mario Bros. twist on their menu, I just had to try it.

Wait. That’s an understatement, I must try it!

I really wanted to grab their new Italian Breakfast Burrito, which is an amusing name if you think about it hard enough, but I was too late. However, I didn’t go away empty handed because I was greeted with their new Chicken Parmesan Sandwich. Admittedly, I am biased because I have a disturbing obsession with chicken parmesan. And while the ingredients are simple, the execution is not.

Chicken parmesan is my litmus test for an Italian ristorante. It’s like how egg rolls or fried dumplings can tell me how good a Chinese restaurant will end up being. If they cannot make a staple dish, their General Tso’s chicken most likely tsucks.

Ah, but let’s not kid ourselves, this is Burger King. I’m not even going to compare the level of its Italian items to depressing faketalian Olive Garden. I would probably place the sandwich at the expectations of canned Chef Boyardee pasta. Until that creepy spider fiasco, I was a connoisseur of canned ravioli and Boyardee was the bareback cowgirl of awesomeness. Damn you spiders, damn you all to hell.

I should also note I was given the option to have the chicken grilled or breaded. Grilled? You might as well serve me sushi made with brown rice or mix twelve year Van Winkle “Lot B” bourbon with Coke. I opted for the only correct choice which is breaded and if you’re wondering what the grilled version tastes like…tough, I’m not eating that (or so I thought, more on that later).

So now that I properly shifted my paradigm, I looked at the sandwich and couldn’t help but feel sad. It looked like their normal fried chicken sandwich with some tomato paste jizzed on it as an afterthought. I couldn’t taste the “shaved” parmesan and BK’s definition of artisan style (their words, not mine) must mean shabby. And, as a final “eff you”, the mozzarella is just drooped on top of the fried ugliness.

I guess the chance to get this “grilled” should have been ominous enough but who else can say they ate a BK Chicken Parmesan? Probably the homeless who scoured garbage cans and found these half-eaten chicken sandwiches tossed out by unhappy customers.

Indeed there were a couple of slices of mozzarella but when I split the sandwich in half, you can see where one layer was placed on top of another. Both layers were pretty much unmelted. I think the cadavers in the autopsy rooms at the local morgue are warmer.

Burger King’s website states that the chicken is generously breaded but my chicken was entombed with batter. It was like eating a brick filled with white chicken meat. Not surprising, the marinara was dreadful and tasted like pasty ketchup. Those On-Cor frozen chicken parmesan family entrées in the unattractive yellow boxes taste better.

Italy hasn’t been this disappointed since pre-tomatoed Mussolini. Yeah, I was pissed. Coupled with the fact that this sandwich was also expensive ($5.89!), I was ready to chalk this up as a big fail. Alas, (overdramatic sigh) I wouldn’t be giving a fair review if I didn’t purchase another one at a different Burger King.

Try Number Due. (Get it? It’s Italian for two.)

Here is something annoying to me and I’m not sure this is the case at all Burger King locations, but if you do not specify you want the chicken grilled or breaded, it will come grilled. That makes no sense for two reasons:

1. I don’t know of any restaurant that offers chicken parmesan grilled.

2. Every picture BK has of this product, from their menu in the eatery to its website, shows that it’s breaded.

Needless to say, I didn’t indicate which one and was handed a grilled chicken version. I took a bite and was happy the cheese was melted but the chicken was spongy and bland. I returned it and got the correct artery clogging breaded sandwich.

The cheese was melted properly and this made a huge difference. The creamy mozzarella followed by the breaded chicken was excellent. The chicken was breaded with the right amount, unlike the “colostomy in your future” fried rock in my original sandwich. It was not as light as tempura (which would be gross) but heavy enough to give it that crispy bite. I could actually taste the parmesan, but suspect the cheese was sprinkled from a can versus shaved.

There was still too little of the marinara sauce, which tasted like tomato paste out the can, but the melted cheese carried the sandwich’s flavor. Also, the artisan bun the second time was devoid of weird flecky sesame seeds and other random speckles, but it didn’t affect the sandwich’s flavor.

The second Chicken Parmesan Sandwich from the second Burger King was miles better than other one I tried. That is shitty because we shouldn’t have to play Russian roulette with our Burger King locations.

I really enjoyed this sandwich even though it’s still a bit pricey for a fast food sandwich. Not sure if Little Caesars still sells their own chicken parmesan sandwich, but I believe theirs is the best fast food version I’ve eaten.

Using an old slogan of Burger King’s, my suggestion is to ensure that the cheese is melted by telling them you want to “have it your way.” And for God sakes, demand the breaded one or you will eat something horrible.

The Burger King Chicken Parmesan Sandwich won’t blow your mind (maybe your arteries and heart), but I do think it’s a great option if you don’t feel like eating a Whopper or have always dreamt of having onion rings with your chicken parmesan.

(Nutrition Facts – 470 calories, 15 grams of fat, 2.5 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 85 milligrams of cholesterol, 1600 milligrams of sodium, 46 grams of carbohydrates, 7 grams of sugar, and 37 grams of protein.)

Item: Burger King Chicken Parmesan Sandwich
Purchased Price: $5.89
Size: N/A
Purchased at: Burger King
Rating: 7 out of 10
Pros: Melted mozzarella on breaded chicken. Burger King offering something different from the norm. The sandwich is a hit, but it depends on the BK you go to.
Cons: Grilled chicken parmesan sucks. Expensive. Having to specify which chicken you want is stupid. The sandwich is a hit, but it depends on the BK you go to.