REVIEW: Thomas’ Plain Bagel Thins

Stacey 14 Comments

Let me start out by saying that I’m not much of a breakfast girl.

I mean, you got cereal, which is cold and unforgiving, and better suited as a late night snack if you ask me. (Especially if the cereal is Cap’n Crunch.) Then there’s oatmeal, which sometimes I will force myself to eat because while nutritionally it’s good for you, it’s kind of gross; especially if you make it from scratch. And I figure if either it’s artificially sweetened and flavored, overly processed gloppy glop from a packet or it’s naturally prepared gloppy glop from the canister, I guess I’ll take the gloppy glop from the canister and enjoy the benefits of a regular bowel movement. Oh, and yogurt? Don’t even get me started on effing yogurt.

Pretty much the only breakfast foods I enjoy are the ones that aren’t good for me, and as summer approaches and I go through my yearly ritual of “Operation Fitting Into Shit Again,” it really limits my options. Sometimes I will literally go the whole day without eating just to avoid breakfast, and then 5 o’clock hits and I eat things like a giant take-out burrito the size of a baby. And that is about as counterproductive as it is delicious.

One “healthier” option I’ve found that I do enjoy eating for breakfast is a low-fat or whole wheat English Muffin. Sure, I can deal with that. However, my last trip to the English Muffin aisle in my local grocery store yielded an unexpected and delightful surprise: Thomas’ Bagel Thins. Really Thomas’?

You mean to tell me that I can have all of the deliciousness of a bagel for roughly the same amount of calories as an English Muffin? And that I no longer have to stare with envy at my boyfriend’s Trader Joe’s Sesame Seed bagels sitting on the shelf, because he’s a bastard with fast metabolism and can eat giant doughy balls of seed-studded carby goodness for breakfast? This is the best thing to happen to my waistline since that time I got my wisdom teeth out and I couldn’t eat solid food for an entire week. And Bagel Thins won’t even give me the dry socket!

With an impressive four grams of fiber, Bagel Thins are nutritionally comparable so I don’t even have to feel guilty about replacing it with my usual whole wheat English Muffin. And with a couple of tablespoons of 1/3 less fat cream cheese — because everyone knows that fat-free cream cheese is basically like eating caulk — the whole shebang still clocks in under an impressive 200 calories. Heck, I can even throw in a glass of low-sugar orange juice into the mix for those numbers! Another way Bagel Thins are better than English Muffins is that, for about the same price, Bagel Thins come eight to a package whereas English Muffins only come with six. You don’t have to be a Harvard-educated mathematician to know that eight is better than six.

Thomas’ Bagel Thins are chewy and bagely, basically just like a regular bagel, and are about the same size, so it actually feels like you’re eating something substantial. Unlike one of Thomas’ sad little “mini bagels,” anyway – I mean, what are those even good for? My only real (albeit minor) gripe with the Bagel Thins was that because of their thinness, they unfortunately got cold really fast — especially if you’re slathering it with cold cream cheese from a cold refrigerator. Although on the other side of the coin, I could see the thinness lending itself perfectly as a bread/roll replacement for a sandwich or veggie burger. Quite frankly I’m surprised it took this long for America’s obsession of thinness (models, cell phones, televisions, etc.) to revolutionize the modern bagel, but it’s a trend I would like to see continue.

(Nutrition Facts – 1 Bagel (46 grams) – 110 calories, 1 grams of fat, 0 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 0 milligrams of cholesterol, 210 milligrams of sodium, 25 grams of carbohydrates, 4 grams of fiber, 3 grams of sugar, 4 grams of protein and 8% iron.)

Item: Thomas’ Plain Bagel Thins
Price: $3.29
Size: 8 Bagel Thins
Purchased at: Supreme Shop N’ Bag
Rating: 8 out of 10
Pros: Low-calorie. Tastes like a real bagel. Only 110 calories. Eight is more than six. Fitting into shit again.
Cons: Fat-free cream cheese. Oatmeal. Boyfriends and their stupid fast metabolisms. The aftermath of gorging on baby-sized burritos.

REVIEW: Wawa Buffalo Chicken Flatbread

Kayla 5 Comments

I’ve never worked as a server (big ups to those who have), but if I ever decide to apply as one I know exactly where my first choice would be.

Hooters.

It’s not because I’m oddly turned on by overweight, drunk gentlemen coppin’ a feel or I enjoy wearing orange spandex shorts on a daily basis. Heck, I don’t even sign my name with a cute little heart at the end. My desire to work at Hooters is based purely on my love and devotion to buffalo chicken. Although, I probably would get fired for stealing buffalo wings off of plates and serving a bunch of chicken bones to horny hungry men with my mouth area covered in a red sauce that could be mistaken as the war paint used by Amazon huntresses on the prowl for a new mate.

Although working for Hooters isn’t in the near future (or distant), I’m still able to get my buffalo chicken fix without having to get a boob job, a restraining order on a customer, or having to go into American Apparel to purchase orange hot pants from a male cashier rocking sideburns, aviator shades and orange hot pants. Thanks to the new Wawa Buffalo Chicken Flatbread I can just walk a couple of blocks and get a hit of spicy chicken at any time of day. I could also walk a couple of blocks in the other direction and get my fix at any time of the day, if my buffalo chicken addiction was instead a crack addiction.

The Wawa Buffalo Chicken Flatbread is one of those microwaveable deals; it’s not made to order unless you count them nuking it for you, but for a microwavable sandwich this thing is pretty glorious. Sometimes with pre-made sandwiches the chicken is chopped so small that you need the Hubble Telescope to find out if it’s actually chicken, but as you can see, there’s quite a bit of the cluck stuff in this as well as mild buffalo sauce, ranch dressing and tiny bleu cheese crumbles.

Despite the heavenly combo of grilled chicken, ranch dressing, bleu cheese crumbles and buffalo sauce, which was about as mild as Victorian Era porn, it would’ve been better if the chicken were pieces of buffalo wings and they added extra sauce so the spicy factor could go from PBS Masterpiece Theatre level to something worthy of an AVN Award.

Looking at the innards of the Wawa Buffalo Chicken Flatbread made my stomach feel like it was being churned by an Amish girl because it looks like Michelle Duggar’s uterus; all messy and unrecognizable, but yet still able to hold a child. Speaking of pregnancies, the Wawa Buffalo Chicken Flatbread made me feel like there was a massive food baby in my gut after consuming it.

FYI — It’s not fun giving birth to it either.

Since I’ve already made up my mind that I don’t want to be pregnant with human babies, the closest I’ll ever feel to carrying a child would be with food babies. I wouldn’t mind being knocked up by anything buffalo chicken-related since it’s my favorite food. However, I’d rather have a massive plate of Hooters wings impregnating me with spicy chicken goodness than the Wawa Buffalo Chicken Flatbread.

Plus, I think it would be cute if the Hooters wings signed the birth certificate with a little heart.

(Nutrition Facts – 1 flatbread sandwich – 520 calories, 18 grams of fat, 5 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 80 milligrams of cholesterol, 2020 milligrams of sodium, 56 grams of carbohydrates, 4 grams of fiber, 3 grams of sugar, 38 grams of protein, 10% vitamin A, 2% vitamin C, 20% calcium and 25% iron.)

Item: Wawa Buffalo Chicken Flatbread
Price: $3.99
Size: 1 flatbread
Purchased at: Wawa
Rating: 8 out of 10
Pros: Anything Buffalo chicken flavored. Hooters waitresses signing your check with a little heart. Wawa making is possible to get my buffalo chicken fix 24/7. Comfy American Apparel t-shirts. Using buffalo sauce as war paint.
Cons: Lots of sodium and cholesterol. Not made to order. Food babies. Not spicy enough. Bleu cheese crumbles were too small. The Duggar Family. Uncomfortable American Apparel hot pants.

REVIEW: Jamba Vanilla Blueberry Pomegranate Perfection Yogurt & Sorbet Bars

Marvo 7 Comments

I’m so used to seeing Jamba Juice’s frozen smoothie delights in an insulated styrofoam cup…or strategically placed on certain parts of my body when the temperature reaches 90 degrees Fahrenheit or above. So I find it a little strange to be consuming a frozen Jamba product in the form of the Jamba Vanilla Blueberry Pomegranate Perfection Yogurt & Sorbet Bars.

Since it comes in a yogurt bar form, there aren’t any cups or straws to deal with. There also aren’t any chunks of fruits at the bottom of the cup that I try to suck up with the straw, which end up kind of clogging the straw, so in order to get the piece of fruit dislodged I suck harder, but by doing so it shoots the fruit chunk out of the straw so quickly that it flies to the back of my throat and I choke on it. But for a brief second, I know what it’s like being a porn starlet.

The Jamba Vanilla Blueberry Pomegranate Perfection Yogurt & Sorbet Bars combine a pomegranate sorbet with small bits of blueberries and vanilla yogurt. The pomegranate and blueberry bring the tart, while the yogurt brings the creamy and tangy. I thought the combination of pomegranate and blueberry would make the bars extremely tart, but it was surprisingly subdued. Actually, I could mostly taste the pomegranate. The only times I could taste the blueberry was when I bit into one of the small bits of blueberries, but there weren’t enough of them so that they were in every bite.

Despite the lack of blueberry flavor, I thought the bars had a pleasant combination of tart and tangy. The flavors weren’t overpowering, and combining that with the subdued tartness, I thought these bars were a great light and creamy snack.

While the bars don’t contain a Jamba Boost, like their energy or immunity boost, the yogurt does contain probiotic cultures and something called prebiotic fiber. Since both help with digestion, I’d recommend not eating all four bars in the box in one sitting, unless you’re one of those people who already change their underwear several times a day. The bars, according to the box they came in, are a “good source of vitamin C.” But if you consider 10 percent as a “good source,” then you are either the Food and Drug Administration or a music executive negotiating the musician’s cut from album sales.

The Jamba Vanilla Blueberry Pomegranate Perfection Yogurt & Sorbet Bars make me glad I don’t have to deal with cups, straws and small chunks of fruit flying towards the back of my throat if I’m looking for a Jamba fix. It’s definitely better than whatever this was.

(Nutrition Facts – 1 bar – 90 calories, 1 gram of fat, 0.5 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 5 milligrams of cholesterol, 25 milligrams of sodium, 20 grams of carbohydrates, 3 grams of fiber, 13 grams of sugar, 1 gram of protein, 10% calcium and 10% vitamin C.)

Item: Jamba Vanilla Blueberry Pomegranate Perfection Yogurt & Sorbet Bars
Price: $4.99
Size: 4 bars
Purchased at: Safeway
Rating: 7 out of 10
Pros: Nice creamy treat. Nice combination of tart and tangy. Not extremely tart. 90 calories per bar. Yogurt contains probiotic cultures. Made with real fruit. It seems like no artificial sweeteners were used. No high fructose corn syrup. Contains probiotic cultures and prebiotic fiber.
Cons: Hard to detect blueberry. Long frickin’ name. Despite what the box says, NOT a good source of vitamin C. Not available at Jamba Juice locations. Music executives screwing musicians with pathetic cuts from album sales, unless those musicians suck.

REVIEW: Limited Edition Häagen-Dazs Bananas Foster

Marvo 27 Comments

The main ingredients that make up the hoity-toity dessert, Bananas Foster, is bananas, vanilla ice cream and the warm sauce that tops it all. Sounds good, right? But that’s not the best part. The sauce is made from butter, brown sugar, dark rum, and banana liqueur. That sounds even better, but that’s not the best part. The best part is when the alcohol is added and it ignites like an outdoor Weber grill filled with lighter fluid-soaked pieces of charcoal.

As you can see, Bananas Foster is a dessert made with ingredients that all sorts of folks will enjoy. Sweet tooths will love the ice cream, alcoholics will love the rum, monkeys will love the bananas and pyromaniacs will love the fire. Unfortunately, the Limited Edition Häagen-Dazs Bananas Foster Ice Cream doesn’t include the fiery theatrics of the dessert it attempts to emulate, but it does have the bananas, sugar AND rum.

Yes, there is actual rum in this concoction, but it’s listed at the bottom of the ingredients list, which means you’ll get diarrhea way before you get drunk if you attempt to get hammered with this ice cream.

The Häagen-Dazs Bananas Foster Ice Cream is made up of two components: banana ice cream and brown sugar rum swirls. It smells like banana bread, but tastes like heaven, if the clouds in heaven were yellow and they rained brown sugar and cinnamon and occasionally spritzed rum. The banana ice cream has a strong flavor, but thankfully it isn’t artificial, like most of Heidi Montag’s body. The banana, brown sugar, cinnamon and rum create an awesome, creamy combination that will help you forget about an ex-boyfriend or any other stereotypical scenario seen in movies or on television where eating ice cream is used to help one cope or as encouragement for children to be victorious in the sport they are participating in.

I can’t say whether or not this ice cream tastes like Bananas Foster because I’m too poor to eat at any of the fine dining establishments that offer the dessert and, just like cavemen and mummies, I’m terrified of fire.

However, if Bananas Foster tastes just as titillating as the Limited Edition Häagen-Dazs Bananas Foster Ice Cream, I’ll look forward to the day when I can afford to eat at a fine dining establishment, be called “sir” by the employees, drink out of real crystal glasses that make noises when glide my finger around the rim and, after building up some courage, order Bananas Foster — with a side order of fire extinguisher.

(Nutrition Facts – 1/2 cup – 240 calories, 13 grams of fat, 8 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 70 milligrams of cholesterol, 75 milligrams of sodium, 27 grams of carbohydrates, 0 grams of fiber, 23 grams of sugar, 4 grams of protein, 8% vitamin A and 10% calcium.)

Item: Limited Edition Häagen-Dazs Bananas Foster
Price: $3.99
Size: 14 ounces
Purchased at: Safeway
Rating: 9 out of 10
Pros: Damn good. Smells like banana bread. Banana ice cream doesn’t have an artificial taste. Creamy good. Will help you forget about exes and encourage children to be victorious in sports, if you believe what you seen on television or in the movies.
Cons: Can’t get drunk off of the rum in the ice cream. This ice cream doesn’t have any fiery theatrics. Only available until December. Doesn’t come in a full pint size. Heidi Montag before her plastic surgery. Heidi Montag after her plastic surgery. Fire.

REVIEW: Wendy’s Spicy Chipotle Boneless Wings

Kelley 8 Comments

Wendy’s has recently added a new flavor to their line of boneless chicken wings – Spicy Chipotle. Their website describes them as “made from 100% all-white meat chicken breast, delicately breaded and hand-tossed in a sauce made with real chipotle peppers, dark chili powder, and a touch of amber honey.”

Before even trying these “wings,” I have a bone to pick (queue laugh track) with this product. First of all, fast food establishments are notorious for offering “spicy” menu items that are, well…not spicy. I guess they figure the American public can’t handle anything with more kick than a slice of pepper jack cheese. Second, I am soooo over chipotle. Like pomegranate, it’s one of those tired foodie trends that every chef on the Food Network loves to trot out and explain in detail, like you’ve never heard of a dried jalapeño pepper before and it’s going to BLOW YOUR MIND. Thirdly, there’s no such thing as boneless chicken wings. You know what a boneless chicken wing is? It’s a chicken nugget. You can’t fool me, Wendy’s. I was going to make a tasteless zombie Dave Thomas joke here, but he always seemed like a pretty cool guy, so I guess I’ll just leave it at that.

When I first tasted these chicken nugg- chicken boneless wings, my first thought was, hey, at least the chicken’s not bad. I’d rank it above some of the other fast food chicken nuggets I’ve had. My second thought was, I can barely taste the sauce. Half of my “wings” were glopped up with the sticky stuff, and the other half looked practically naked. And not the good kind of naked, like doing an innocent Google image search for Padma Lakshmi and getting more than you expected. Luckily, there was a bunch of it gathered in what I can only describe as a thick sea of slime at the bottom of the tray, so I could smear my naked nuggets around in that, like two ladies wrestling in a tub of half-melted Jell-O. Maybe Padma Lakshmi and Aida Mollenkamp? Only because I’d like to see Padma beat the pretty out of Aida.

My third thought, after I’d gotten a decent amount of sauce and also guaranteed at least one of my laptop keys would now stick forever (from the sauce, pervs), was that I wasn’t actually sure I’d gotten the right flavor of boneless wings. Wendy’s offers two other flavors – Honey BBQ and Sweet & Spicy Asian – and as I sat here, I honestly couldn’t tell what flavor I’d gotten. I’ve never had the two other products, but all three have a distinct “sweet and spicy/smokey/spicy and smokey” vibe, and that’s pretty much all I could tell about the flavor of this sauce. It was a little sweet. It was…maybe a little smokey? Did I detect what passes for spicy somewhere in there?

I figured I’d check the receipt to see if it at least said I’d gotten the right menu item, not that it means anything. I looked in the bag…no receipt. I was on my own. I dredged my finger along the bottom of the tray, pulling up a big glob of the sauce. It was dark orange, with some little speckles in it…could that be the chili powder? I sucked the sauce off my finger, trying to forget my earlier Jell-O wrestling comments. With no chicken in the way, I definitely detected more spice, a little smokiness, and a sweet honey taste. Okay, I’m pretty sure I got the right stuff. And I don’t mean The Right Stuff.

It’s hard to imagine a sauce with chipotle, chili powder and honey in it, that does indeed have elements of spice, smokiness, and sweetness, could be bland, but Wendy’s Spicy Chipotle sauce manages to accomplish this feat. The chicken itself is actually of quite good quality for a chicken nugget (or boneless wing), but I’d rather be dipping it in something like a spicy mustard than have it covered in gooey, uninteresting chipotle sauce. The flavors just aren’t bold enough to pop, and the texture is a little off-putting. Overall, it’s a disappointing addition to Wendy’s menu.

(Nutrition Facts – 10 boneless wings – 500 calories, 180 calories from fat, 4 grams of saturated fat, 20 grams of total fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 80 milligrams of cholesterol, 1,640 milligrams of sodium, 48 grams of carbohydrates, 3 grams of dietary fiber, 10 grams of sugars, 33 grams of protein, 20% vitamin A, 25% vitamin C, 4% calcium and 8% iron.)

Here are other Wendy’s Spicy Chipotle Boneless Wings reviews:
Mishens Fast Food Reviews
An Immovable Feast

Item: Wendy’s Spicy Chipotle Boneless Wings
Price: $3.99, or so the Internet tells me. I have no receipt to prove that.
Size: 10 boneless wings
Purchased at: Wendy’s
Rating: 4 out of 10
Pros: Chicken was pretty good quality. GISing Padma Lashmi. Quite a few wings for the price. Jell-O wrestling.
Cons: Sauce was too bland. Aida Mollenkamp. Half my chicken was naked. Feeling uncomfortable about sucking goo off my finger. Claims of spiciness that don’t deliver.