REVIEW: Domino’s Parmesan Stuffed Crust Pizza

I like Domino’s Pizza a lot but haven’t ordered it in years. That might seem counterintuitive, but there’s a good reason: I’m a stuffed crust fanatic, and Domino’s doesn’t offer stuffed crust. Or at least it hasn’t… until now. Cue the Parmesan Stuffed Crust!

It’s no exaggeration to say that I literally screamed when I heard the news. The name is a bit misleading, though: the crust is actually stuffed with mozzarella (as can also be found at Pizza Hut, Papa John’s, my grimy college dive with pizza so good I was willing to wait through multiple bar fights for it, etc.).

The parmesan element comes from a parmesan and garlic seasoning sprinkled across the crust. It’s the default for this pie but can be removed if desired… and honestly, I ended up wishing I’d done that. I prefer the simple, mild creaminess of mozzarella to parmesan’s funky saltiness, which was on full display here, so I would have liked to see the stuffed stuff stand on its own, even if that meant forsaking the namesake cheese. But I’m getting ahead of myself!

After surviving what felt like an endless wait for my delivery, I was rewarded with a pizza that was still as piping hot and pristine as if it’d just come out of the oven. My pie looked darker than I expected, but I didn’t mind since it didn’t taste overcooked. In fact, it reminded me why Domino’s is so beloved. The cheese was thick and consistently applied, neither too congealed nor too oozy; the sauce was impressively zesty, with a strong herbal taste that was way more interesting than the pizza I’m used to from other chains; the crust had the floppy, foldable texture I crave, firm enough to hold the weight of all of that goodness while still soft and supple enough not to literally crack under the pressure. But each bite, no matter how wonderful, was a mere appetizer leading up to the main course I came for.

And the stuffed crust was… nice.

Of course, since this pizza had been generating enough hype from me to power a small village, “nice” was not really the reaction I had hoped for. But ultimately, I wanted the cheese in my stuffed crust to be more solid, and this filling, though pleasingly abundant, was too gooey for me. In my opinion, the regular cheese on top of a pizza is already gooey enough, so the stuffed crust is an opportunity to bring something different to the table, and I was sad Domino’s didn’t take that opportunity! And as I mentioned, I found the parmesan unnecessary; it felt more like a marketing gimmick for extra uniqueness rather than an actual value add. Perhaps Domino’s should have considered that the reason other pizza places don’t liberally sprinkle their stuffed crusts with parmesan is because it tastes too overwhelming and distracts from the real star of the show.

But the bottom line is that stuffed crust is great! Domino’s is great! Stuffed crust Domino’s, therefore, is destined to be great! Sure, there are parts I could have enjoyed more, but this was still a dream come true—a pie in the sky, if you will, and even though it shot for the moon and missed for me, it still landed among the stars.

Purchased Price: $16.99
Size: Medium/12-inch (this is the only size available)
Rating: 7 out of 10
Nutrition Facts: Not available at the time of the review’s publication.

REVIEW: Limited Edition Harry Potter Butterbeer Goldfish

Apparently, it’s Butterbeer Season, a March-through-May festivity at Universal Orlando Resort that Google has just informed me is traditionally celebrated with a frothy glass of the titular butterscotch beverage. But, like Harry Potter’s Patronus, a new crop of Butterbeer-flavored products has poofed onto the market as if by magic, and thus Butterbeer Season can now be celebrated in the comfort of your own home (or local grocery store parking lot if you really can’t wait). From this flood, I reeled in quite the catch: Butterscotch Goldfish (or, as their parents would call them when they’re angry, Harry Potter Butterbeer Butterscotch Flavored Graham Crackers).

Goldfish’s Grahams line swaps the classic savory flavors of the “snack that smiles back” and cracker-like texture for a sweeter, more cookie-esque style. Rather than being brittle and cheesy, these Butterbeer Goldfish are dense and dessert-y. Beyond that, though, I’m honestly finding them a bit hard to explain. They certainly smell like butterscotch, but when I took my first nibble, the immediate flavor wasn’t what I was expecting: it was salty. As far as I can tell, this saltiness didn’t come from the Goldfish cracker itself but rather from the gritty seasoning it’s covered with. These aren’t nearly as powdery and messy as, say, orange-dust-engulfed Cheetos, but I still found the coating inconvenient and mildly unsettling.

That taste quickly gave way to a richer graham cracker flavor, but it wasn’t one that I would have immediately identified as “butterscotch” had that word not been literally written on the bag. Sure, I can kind of taste the “butter” element, but I was expecting some additional caramelized creaminess that never surfaced. Puzzled by how to pin down this agreeable, comforting, but rather indistinct flavor, I sampled another piece… which turned into a handful… and soon I found myself as full of fish as a patron of an all-you-can-eat sushi restaurant, but not necessarily full of insights. (Well, okay, they’re not all shaped like fish—there are fun Butterbeer barrels and foaming glasses in there, too.)

These Goldfish are tasty and toasty, sugary and brown sugar-y, and have a subtle treacly aftertaste that reminded me a bit of maple syrup. But they left me wishing I was a Hogwarts student so I could use an “Accio” spell to conjure up an understanding of why exactly they have been branded as butterscotch-tasting… or how exactly they’re different than the other similar flavors of Goldfish Grahams I’ve had in the past.

But I don’t mean to Avada Kedavra with faint praise: Butterbeer Goldfish are not bad by any means, it’s just that in order to differentiate them from any other graham snack on the market, you might need a Sorting Hat.

Purchased Price: $3.19
Size: 6.1 oz bag
Purchased at: Target
Rating: 7 out of 10
Nutrition Facts: (31 pieces) 140 calories, 5 grams of fat, 1 gram of saturated fat, 0 gram of trans fat, 0 milligrams of cholesterol, 150 milligrams of sodium, 22 grams of carbohydrates, 1 gram of fiber, 6 grams of sugar, and 2 grams of protein.

REVIEW: Hershey’s Cinnamon Toast Crunch Kisses

Cinnamon Toast Crunch has been having a bit of a moment with a host of new-ish to hot-off-the-presses products and flavors (including Strawberry and, if you were lucky/crazy enough to win a recent sweepstakes, a collaboration with TOTINO’S freaking PIZZA).

Hershey’s Kisses is also an iconic snack brand that has recently been flirting with souped-up special editions (Butterbeer, anyone?) So, it might not be surprising to learn that these two powerhouses have gone ahead and teamed up for Cinnamon Toast Crunch Hershey’s Kisses—and if you’re like me, an aficionado of both overly sweet cereal and white crème candy, this is a total dream come true.

I had a good feeling the moment I found these on proud display at Target. The indulgently enormous Share Pack size promises luxurious abundance, and the appealing design of the bag—a crisp white with friendly swirls of star-studded bright green, purple, orange, and blue to mirror the cereal’s box—is a harbinger of the high quality and attention to detail ahead. Even the wrappers, another riff on that psychedelic color palette, are delightful, suggesting much more whimsy than the classic staid silver of the OG Kiss.

I might be establishing a high bar for the candies to live up to, but when I unwrapped my first one, I wasn’t disappointed at all. They’re beautiful little morsels of white crème run through with rich butterscotch-colored stripes, reminiscent of a lighter-colored Hershey’s Hug. Oh yeah, and they smell fantastic! The cinnamon aroma is strong; more specifically, it really does seem like a Cinnamon Toast Crunch aroma, as there’s a slightly-cloying-but-not-quite-overwhelming, powdered sugar-esque sweet undertone that specifically evokes cereal rather than any old cinnamon-y baked good. Clearly, I was extremely pleased with everything I saw and sniffed, so I barely made it two steps past the self-checkout before sneaking a snacking.

They say don’t meet your heroes, but you know what? This flavor actually lived up to all of my expectations, tasting exactly as delicious as it looks and smells. Food science really is magical—if you asked a wizard to conjure up the perfect blend of Cinnamon Toast Crunch and Hershey’s Kisses, this is exactly what I imagine they’d poof into existence. (Does Hershey’s have actual wizards working for them? Come to think of it, that would explain the Butterbeer Kisses…)

One more neat touch, which the product image on the packaging exaggerates but which you can’t quite see on an actual Kiss until biting into it, is the crunchy bits on the inside. According to the Hershey’s website, they’re graham-flavored, and while I didn’t immediately identify that (they seemed to me more like a fun textural enhancement with the added bonus of slightly cutting the sweetness), it made sense, doubling as both a satisfying explanation for their more subdued taste and an additional nod to the cereal inspiration.

If you’re the type of Cinnamon Toast Crunch fanatic who’ll have a bowl for breakfast, a Creamy Cinnamon Spread sandwich for lunch, and a Cinnadust-seasoned entrée for dinner, Cinnamon Toast Crunch Hershey Kisses would make the perfect dessert… and even if you like CTC just a normal amount, I promise you’ll still love these. (If you somehow don’t, don’t worry; I’d be happy to take them off your hands.)

Purchased Price: $6.52
Size: 9 oz bag (Share Pack)
Purchased at: Target
Rating: 10 out of 10
Nutrition Facts: (7 pieces) 170 calories, 9 grams of fat, 6 grams of saturated fat, 0 gram of trans fat, 0 milligrams of cholesterol, 40 milligrams of sodium, 21 grams of carbohydrates, 0 grams of fiber, 17 grams of sugar, and 2 grams of protein.

REVIEW: Little Caesars Bacon & Cheese Crazy Puffs

When Little Caesars debuted its Crazy Puffs in 2024, initially available in just Pepperoni and 3 Cheese & Herb flavors, I was genuinely gobsmacked by how much I enjoyed them. The compact, dense, yet satisfyingly snackable size, novel cupcake-y shape, a textural masterpiece of the crispy edges, gooey cheese, and doughy interior, and even the amount of food that came in each order for a surprisingly reasonable price were all thrilling.

The only thing faster than me pouncing on the opportunity to review the new Bacon & Cheese flavor was the employee who handed them to me in a cute miniature box only about five seconds after I ordered them, really living up to that “HOT-N-READY” tagline! (Okay, it was more like “LUKEWARM-N-READY” in this case, but I actually didn’t mind that, as I could appreciate the flavor and texture more without a burnt tongue.)

At first glance, these Puffs really didn’t look different from the original pepperoni-less ones since, in terms of size, color, and texture, the small, craggy bacon bits happen to look a lot like burnt bits of cheese. But, unexpectedly porky and salty for its modest quantity, the taste of the bacon actually reminded me a lot more of ham. This was an interesting change from the original flavor lineup, and the difference was solidified even further when I made it to the middle of my first Puff and encountered the sharp taste of the small, slightly congealed poof of cheddar-forward filling.

It had a nostalgic school lunch quality, reminding me of a rounder, less-likely-to-scald-the-roof-of-your-mouth Hot Pocket. While that was fun, the cheddar’s taste was harsher than I would prefer. It was noticeably different than the cheese on top of the Puff, which seemed to be Little Caesars’ usual familiar blend of mozzarella and muenster, forcing me to realize that when it came to my enjoyment, the cheese on top stayed on top.

That being said, the things I loved so much about the original generation of Crazy Puffs persisted here. The interior had a delightful chewiness (my order was slightly dry, but I’m willing to chalk that up to the natural hit-or-miss nature of chain restaurants), and those edges were still crispy, this time so pronounced that they made the center of the Puffs look dramatically sunken in, which made them even more fun to eat.

I ultimately preferred the original flavors, but that wasn’t so shocking or disappointing since they set such a high bar: in the grand scheme of pizza products, the Cheese & Bacon Crazy Puffs perform nicely, and if my local-ish Little Caesars was more conveniently located, I would love to try them again. It’s not easy to find something that combines portability, a solid portion, a reasonable price, a short wait time, and a delicious taste on top of all of that, so these are nothing to roll your eyes at. (They may, however, be something to roll your eyebrows at, at least if you’re Eugene Levy—go watch his fun Super Bowl commercial for these and you’ll see what I mean! Little Caesars is not liable for any eyebrows that escape in a flurry of zany adventures while consuming their products.)

Purchased Price: $4.34
Size: 4 Puffs
Rating: 7 out of 10
Nutrition Facts: 740 calories. Other nutritional numbers are not available at the time of writing. < p/>

REVIEW: Reese’s Filled Pretzels

As someone who is allergic to chocolate, I’m used to cries of “You can’t have that. There’s chocolate in it!” when I eat Reese’s Pieces.

“Oh, that’s a common misconception, but there actually isn’t,” I always inform my concerned companions. But, I can tell they never quite believe me, even when I point out the ingredients list on the packaging. As soon as I heard about Reese’s new Filled Pretzels with peanut butter filling, I instinctively prepared myself for more of these conversations.

Of course, I’m happy that this is a new Reese’s treat I can actually eat, but I can imagine it causing confusion in chocolate cravers, and I can’t say I’d blame them. After all, the name “Reese’s” is practically shorthand for “chocolate plus peanut butter,” so it’s surprising that they’d make something with only half of the iconic pairing—especially in the form of a snack where it seems like chocolate would fit right in. Even though it’s what allowed me to eat these, not incorporating chocolate feels like a misstep, which is only my first caveat about these pretzels.

The second is that… they’re just not that exciting. In addition to those mildly awkward Reese’s Pieces memories, they also instantly reminded me of the similarly pouch-like peanut butter-filled pretzels from other brands my parents like to keep on hand for long car rides. I’ve always found those pretzels okay but dry, their crackly exterior and dusty filling leaving me with an unpleasant urge to wash my mouth out, even though their flavor isn’t so bad. As it turns out, Reese’s take isn’t very different.

Since the pretzel is hollow to accommodate its filling (which is actually impressively robust for something so bite-size), it’s extremely thin and crispy, closer to a pretzel crisp than your standard hearty fare. Despite being quite careful, my first small bite shattered the whole thing into about a billion brittle shards! I generally prefer a thicker pretzel, but fine, I can accept that that’s not logistically possible in this format. At least the peanut butter makes up for it, right?

Well, sort of. I wanted so badly for the peanut butter to be creamier, but alas, it’s pretty powdery. It’s probably not too different than what’s in a Reese’s Cup, but since there’s a more concentrated amount here and the taste of the pretzel isn’t rich enough to really complement it, the chalky texture is apparent, and therefore unsatisfying. The peanut butter also tastes noticeably sweet rather than nutty. It’s not bad necessarily, but it’s a tad jarring (I audibly said “OHHHH, THAT EXPLAINS IT” when I noticed powdered sugar was one of the ingredients).

The saving grace for me is the salt. While I’m usually a sweet over salty girl, here it compensates beautifully for the lackluster and slightly uncanny peanut butter, adding extra complexity and cravability. The plump shape also helps, as I never got tired of crunching dramatically into it (I’d definitely recommend that over a more delicate nibbling approach, which would just get messy).

These Reese’s Filled Pretzels are certainly preferable to starving on a road trip, but ultimately, I’d never choose them over a bowl of classic Reese’s Pieces—or even just regular old hard pretzels.

Purchased Price: $5.39
Size: 9 oz bag
Purchased at: Target
Rating: 5 out of 10
Nutrition Facts: (per 7 pieces) 130 calories, 6 grams of fat, 240 milligrams of sodium, 17 grams of carbohydrates, 4 grams of sugar, and 4 grams of protein.