Burger King Loaded Steakhouse Burger

When The King isn’t watching you sleep or molesting your children, he’s in the corporate test kitchen. He’s probably molesting the chefs too, but what he’s really doing is finding ways to slowly kill you with fat so that he may harvest your organs to pay for the medical bills that come from maintaining that abnormally large head of his. It’s no surprise that he managed to get this gut-busting Burger King Loaded Steakhouse Burger green-lit.

There’s also a regular Steakhouse Burger that has lettuce and tomatoes, but for entertainment purposes I decided to go with the more gastronomically disgusting Loaded variety. It’s a cubed angus steak (basically chewy ground beef), about ten strips of bacon, A1 Sauce, fried onion strings, and “loaded mashed potatoes on a corn-dusted bun. I use the term “loaded” very loosely because I got a smear of mashed potatoes the size of a pat of butter. “Ripped Off” mashed potatoes would be much more fitting.

Of course, I haven’t even gotten to the insanity inherent in a burger with mashed potatoes as a selling point. KFC already crossed several lines with their Famous Bowls, but the PR people at Burger King took it to another level by trying to sell this burger as “the indulgence of an entire steak dinner at a fraction of the cost.” What they fail to mention is that the steak dinner they are referring to is Banquet’s Salisbury Steak, which is on sale at your local supermarket for 99 cents, ironically a fraction of the $6.99 you’ll be paying for this combo.

Once you get down to it, you’re paying a rather hefty price for a rather meager burger that consists of dry, chewy beef, a pig’s ass worth of bacon, a gentle wipe of mashed potatoes, and some crushed Funyuns. This is the type of burger that you should be absolutely embarrassed to order. It is the type of burger that is only dreamt up by the fattest of all fat people and the stoniest of all stoners. The type of burger that you want to tell your mom about, but are too afraid because she would think you were shooting up heroin with the wrong crowd.

Don’t let The King harvest your organs. Boycott this overpriced monstrosity.

Item: Burger King Loaded Steakhouse Burger
Price: $6.99 for medium combo
Purchased at: Burger King
Rating: 2 out of 10
Pros: A ridiculous yet ballsy concept for a burger. A fun story to tell your friends about after it gets pulled. A1 sauce tastes a little better than Burger King’s barbecue sauce.
Cons: Burger is way smaller than advertised. Almost no mashed potatoes. Onions are nearly non-existent. Angus beefsteak is chewy and flavorless. Horrendously overpriced. The King.

Wendy’s Spicy Baconator

After all the rejected advances on women, Fs on my college report cards, cancellation of all the shows Tom Cavanagh has been in, and not achieving my dream of being the The Village People’s leatherman because I could not properly make the letter “C” with my arms, I should be used to disappointment by now. But I am again deeply disappointed by the Wendy’s Spicy Baconator.

I thought the Spicy Baconator would be just as good as the original Wendy’s Baconator with its two hamburger patties, six small strips of bacon, jalapenos, two slices of pepper jack cheese, and chipotle ranch sauce. The jalapenos add a decent amount of heat to the burger, but don’t add any flavor. It’s like Charo without the “Cuchi-Cuchi.”

Wait. Was that too old of a reference?

Anyhoo, without the jalapenos, the burger was pretty bland, not even the chipotle ranch sauce or the bacon could save it, which was disappointing since bacon can usually save anything. Just ask slightly wilted salads, overcooked baked potatoes, and people being chased by cougars or Kirstie Alley.

Oh disappointment! You rain upon me like tears of a little boy who has had their candy taken from them or who have shared a bed with Michael Jackson.

(Nutrition Facts – 1 burger – 880 calories, 55 grams of fat, 24 grams of saturated fat, 2.5 grams of trans fat, 200 milligrams of cholesterol, 1850 milligrams of sodium, 650 milligrams of potassium, 35 grams of carbohydrates, 2 grams of fiber, 7 grams of sugar, 58 grams of protein, 15% Vitamin A, 15% Vitamin C, 35% Calcium, 40% Iron, and 75% disappointment.)

Item: Wendy’s Spicy Baconator
Price: $6.49 (small combo)
Purchased at: Wendy’s
Rating: 3 out of 10
Pros: Spicy. Bacon. Wearing leather. Most shows with Tom Cavanagh.
Cons: Disappointing. 2.5 grams of trans fat. Jalapenos don’t add anything to flavor. Bland without the jalapenos. Sauce was lame. Charo without the “Cuchi-Cuchi.” Being chased by Kirstie Alley.

Kellogg’s Whole Grain Strawberry Pop-Tarts

Like how Britney avoids court dates, for many years, I stayed away from Whole Grain and visa versa. I’m not sure when the dislike began between us. Maybe it was the time when I dropped the letters W, L, and E from its first name and went around calling it “Ho Grain.”

Or maybe it was the time when Whole Grain called me a “man-whore,” willing to give up my body to any lonely middle-aged/senior Japanese female tourist willing to buy me cheap cigarettes, a fake flower lei, squashed Twinkies, and a can of Asahi beer.

Those days have passed and Whole Grain and I have become friends. How did that happen? Well it’s because I’ve been seeing Ho Grai…oops, sorry, it’s kind of a habit. I mean, I’ve been seeing Whole Grain all over the place. I’m not only seeing it in the bread aisle, but also the cereal aisle, pasta aisle, and amongst all the Hot Pockets. I figured if I’m going to have to see it all the time, there’s no sense in being dicks to each other. So we called a truce, we’ve been getting to know each other, and apparently Whole Grain is not so bad.

First off, Whole Grain provides fiber and that’s something we all need in order to poop properly. Secondly, it watches the TV show 30 Rock. Thirdly, we both hate and wish nothing but the wrath of everything evil upon Wonder Bread. So all of that might be the reasons why I enjoy the new Whole Grain Strawberry Pop-Tarts.

It tastes just like regular unfrosted Pop-Tarts, except with a slightly grainy texture. There’s a drizzle of frosting on top and it is pretty good for something that supposed to be “healthier” than the original version. However, it tastes like regular unfrosted Pop-Tarts probably because their nutrition facts are very similar. The Kellogg’s Whole Grain Strawberry Pop-Tarts have 20 less calories, 1 less gram fat, 0.5 less grams of saturated fat, 20 less milligrams of sodium, 2 less grams of carbs, 1 less gram of sugar, and 2+ grams more of fiber.

Despite the whole grain, the Kellogg’s Whole Grain Strawberry Pop-Tarts are only slightly healthier than regular Strawberry Pop-Tarts, which is disappointing, but again, not surprising since they taste very similar.

Shit! I feel duped. You deceived me Whole Grain…or should I say Ho Grain.

(Nutrition Facts – 1 pastry – 190 calories, 5 grams of fat, 1.5 grams of saturated fat, 0 milligrams of cholesterol, 160 milligrams of sodium, 35 grams of carbs, 3 grams of dietary fiber, 15 grams of sugar, 2 grams of fiber, 10% Vitamin A, 0% Vitamin C, 0% Calcium, 10% Iron, 10% Thiamin, 10% Riboflavin, 10% Niacin, 10% Vitamin B6, 4% Folic Acid, and 100% friendship)

Item: Kellogg’s Whole Grain Strawberry Pop-Tarts
Price: $3.00
Purchased at: Safeway
Rating: 7 out of 10
Pros: Tastes like regular Strawberry Pop-Tarts. More fiber than regular Pop-Tarts. Slightly, slightly healthier than regular Pop-Tarts. Being Rickrolled.
Cons: Stingy with the frosting. A little grainy texture. Slightly, slightly healthier than regular Pop-Tarts. Just one serving of whole grain. Need a chocolate-flavored versions. High fructose corn syrup. Less than 0.5 grams of trans fat per pastry. Giving up my body for damaged food.

REVIEW: Asian Sensations Chicken Egg Rolls

Back in 1996, my life was at a crossroads − kind of like that crappy Britney Spears movie, I forget what it’s called. Anyways, it was a crazy time to be living. I had done some experimenting with alcohol and drugs, which was a big deal considering I was eight years old at the time. The only thing that kept me going was my torrid love affair with dance. It was during this time period that I became known as the Asian Sensation.

In those days, political correctness had not yet spread throughout the country. My racially exploitive nickname was simple, catchy, and just as memorable as my jumping splits. Dancing was the only time I felt free. This was mostly because they kept me in a small cage when I wasn’t dancing, but I digress. My upstart career came to an abrupt end when I grotesquely tore my groin muscles right off of the bone. I had not thought about dance since then until I tuned in to the new season of Dancing With the Stars to indulge my irrational man-crush on Adam Carolla.

All of the memories came rushing back to me, filling me with a deep sorrow fueled by the stagnation in my soles. I had to cope with my disappoint the same way that I always do: shopping and eating. It’s one of my many ambiguously feminine traits. To my surprise, I came across egg rolls that shared my former moniker. They were Asian Sensations Chicken Egg Rolls, produced by the probably-not-Asian-but-sounds-Asian-enough-to-be-sort-of-authentic Schwan’s frozen food company. The picture on the box looked appetizing, so I decided to give it a shot.

Once taken out of the box, I was cheered up by the fact that the individually-wrapped egg rolls were fairly substantial. One is big enough to pair with some fried rice for a filling lunch. I threw one in the toaster oven and waited as it cooked, tapping my toes all the while. When it finished, I tore it open to see its innards. It contained cabbage, processed chicken, celery, carrots, and onions, but all I could really see was chicken and cabbage. It was all I could taste too; the vegetables were chopped so fine that all of the texture was lost. Even worse, the indiscernible sauce was annoyingly sweet and added no spice or excitement to the experience. The egg rolls were edible, but certainly not deserving of the Asian Sensation name.

Still feeling kind of down, I visited their website, AsianSensations.com, to see if it might be a porn site of some kind. It is not, but apparently I can win a private concert with singer Julie Roberts. This begs several questions. One − who the hell is Julie Roberts? Two − why is Asian Sensations promoting a white blonde as their big star? And finally − is “private concert” a thinly-veiled euphemism for “hot sexual tryst?”

Either way, none of it adds up and I haven’t been this confused since my high school crush explained that she was “not necessarily un-attracted” to me. Alas, it was another lesson learned: don’t look to egg rolls to solve your life problems.

(Nutritional Facts – 1 egg roll – 140 calories, 5 grams of fat, 1.5 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 10 mg of cholesterol, 400mg sodium, 20 grams of carbs, 1 gram of dietary fiber, 2 grams of sugar, 5 grams of protein, 15% Vitamin A, 6% Vitamin C, 2% Calcium, and 8% Iron)

Item: Asian Sensations Chicken Egg Rolls
Price: $2.50
Purchased at: Albertsons
Rating: 6 out of 10
Pros: Reasonably priced and fairly big egg rolls. Egg rolls are both microwaveable and oven-able. Being a badass on the dance floor. Possible contest sex with Julie Roberts.
Cons: Flavor is a little to sweet to eat by itself. Vegetables all come together in a soggy mass. Eating away your pain. Tearing groin muscles. Crushes that try to let you down easy but end up destroying your psyche instead.

Kellogg’s Special K Raspberry Bliss

If all it takes to achieve bliss is to eat the Kellogg’s Special K Raspberry Bliss bar, then I’m staying home and eating nothing but these natural and artificial flavored bars. But really, after trying them, I doubt that these bars have the ability to give someone any amount of bliss. Even if it could, it would end up being like a vibrator, it would satisfy you for a while, but eventually you’re going to need something real.

Speaking of being real, these Kellogg’s Special K Raspberry Bliss bars lack some of that in its ingredients. Each bar is made up of multigrain cereal, bran flakes, rice cereal, raspberry flavored fruit pieces, and partially dipped in what I’m now calling, I Can Believe It’s Not Chocolate, or as the packaging says “chocolatey.”

Not chocolate, “chocolatey.”

To explain “chocolatey,” I’m going to refer to a comment for The Impulsive Buy’s review of the Kellogg’s Special K Chocolatey Delight cereal from my favorite female candy expert, “Partially hydrogenated palm kernel oil + cocoa processed with alkali + cocoa = “chocolatey.” There’s no cocoa butter in there to make it chocolate.”

Its overall taste was not bad. The “raspberry flavored fruit pieces” made the bar taste like raspberry jujubes. The chocolatey part of the bar didn’t seem to add anything, since the raspberry is what stood out. For a bar that claims to be healthy, it would’ve been nice of Kellogg’s to keep it real by including actual dried raspberries in it, or at least a coupon for a free lap dance, because I think that’s the only thing that would make up for it.

Another thing that bothered me was that in the nutrition facts it claimed to have zero trans fats, but if you read the ingredients list and look at the footnotes, there’s a line that says “Less then 0.5 g trans fat per serving” thanks to the partially hydrogenated palm kernel oil. Each bar weighs less than an ounce (0.77 ounces) and is 3.5 inches long and one inch wide, which is great for people trying to portion control and lose weight, but bad for people who are hungry or guys insecure about their junk.

Overall, I think the Kellogg’s Special K Raspberry Bliss bars are like Playboy Playmates, they seem good at first glance, but deep down you know there was some tricks involved. With the Bliss bars, it’s the raspberry flavored fruit pieces and the chocolatey dipping. With the Playboy Playmates, it’s Photoshop.

(Nutrition Facts – 1 bar – 90 calories, 2 grams of fat, 1 gram of saturated fat, 0 milligrams of cholesterol, 70 milligrams of sodium, 17 grams of carbohydrates, less than 1 grams of fiber, 9 grams of sugar, 1 grams of protein, 10% niacin, 4% iron, 10% vitamin B6, and zero grams of bliss.)

Item: Kellogg’s Special K Raspberry Bliss
Price: $3.00 (on sale, six-pack)
Purchased at: Safeway
Rating: 6 out of 10
Pros: 90 calories per bar. Decent tasting. Bars are small for those who want to control portions. Coupons for lap dances.
Cons: No bliss from eating bars. Ingredients list is kind of scary. 0.5 grams of trans fat. Raspberry flavored fruit pieces not actual raspberries. Chocolatey not chocolate. Not much in vitamins and minerals. Bars are small for hungry people. Chocolatey doesn’t add to the bar. Being insecure about your junk.