REVIEW: Limited Edition Jumpin’ Jack Doritos

Jumpin' Jack Doritos

Man, these Limited Edition Jumpin’ Jack Doritos take me back.

I remember eating bags of it while (insert 90s reference here) or (insert 90s reference here). Except for the acne and bullying, those were good times. Heck, I think I still have those (insert 90s fashion here) somewhere in my closet. But when Jumpin’ Jack Doritos went away, I was a little sad, just like when they cancelled (insert 90s television show here). For years, I wished I could (insert Back to the Future DeLorean/flux capacitor reference here) and experience those chips again.

But thanks to Frito-Lay’s recent trend of bringing back old chip flavors in retro packaging and no thanks to nonexistent time travel technology, I can enjoy these pepper jack cheese-flavored tortilla chips once again, but for a limited time.

Like the outfits in the first few seasons of Friends, the retro Doritos packaging SCREAMS 90s. It also screams 80s…and 70s. Okay, it just screams old and the font used for the “Jumpin’ Jack” makes me wonder where its leopard print leotard is. Oh wait, I was in high school when these first came out, so that makes me old. I. Am. Old. I feel like I should pull my pants down and let my doctor use his latex glove-covered finger to check my prostate.

Jumpin' Jack Doritos Closeup 2

The chips don’t look as cheesy as regular Doritos, but that’s because the cheese-flavored powder blends in with the color of the chip, like medium 28 camel Sephora tinting moisturizer blends with my skin tone. The cheesy seasoning is made up of cheddar, Monterey Jack, and Swiss cheeses. It sounds like a lot of cheese but according to the level of cheesy powder that accumulated on my fingers while I ate my way through the bag, the chips didn’t seem to have a heavy coating of powder. However, they were some damn tasty chips.

Now some of you cheese connoisseurs might be taking off your monocles, putting down your cup of tea, and asking yourself, “If those chips are pepper jack flavored, where’s the pepper part?”

Jumpin' Jack Doritos Closeup 1

Well, I was just getting to that, Mr. or Ms. Fancy Pants. Along with the cheesy coating, the tortilla chips have a sprinkling of black and red seasonings, which I assume was the jalapeño pepper powder listed in the ingredients. The jalapeño powder gave the chips a level of heat that would be on the lowest Scoville scale level. To be honest, as someone who likey the spicy, the lack of heat was a little disappointing.

While the amount of spice the Limited Edition Jumpin’ Jack Doritos doesn’t make my taste buds want to jump, the chip’s wonderful, but not overpowering Monterey Jack flavor makes them wonder why they’re not a regular addition to the Doritos line.

(Nutrition Facts – 1 ounce – 150 calories, 80 calories from fat, 8 grams of trans fat, 1.5 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 0 milligrams of cholesterol, 240 milligrams of sodium, 17 grams of carbohydrates, 1 gram of fiber, 0 grams of sugar, 2 grams of protein, 2% vitamin A, and 2% thiamin.)

Item: Limited Edition Jumpin’ Jack Doritos
Purchased Price: $2.98
Size: 11 ounces
Purchased at: Walmart
Rating: 8 out of 10
Pros: Nice cheesy flavor. Doritos bringing back flavors from the past. Doesn’t leave your fingers stained orange. Retro bag brings back memories of being asked to the Junior prom as a sophomore. The way medium 28 camel Sephora tinting moisturizer make me look.
Cons: Level of heat doesn’t make my taste buds jump. Not for MSG haters. Limited edition. Leaves your fingers stained yellow. Retro bag brings back memories of being the third option for the girl who asked me to the Junior prom. Checking prostates.

REVIEW: Sabritas Doritos Dinamita Chipotle Crema Rolled Tortilla Chips

Doritos Dinamita Chipotle Crema Rolled Tortilla Chips Bag

When I first heard about Dinamita Doritos, I was immediately curious. I was easily able to locate the two original flavors – Chile Limon and Nacho Picoso. However, I later learned about another flavor, Chipotle Crema, which I found even more intriguing than the other two. But the flavor was proving to be quite elusive.

I was starting to wonder if they even existed. Ghost Doritos.

When I finally found them, I was excited. Happy snack dance excited. It doesn’t take someone fluent in Spanish to know that “Chipotle Crema” translates into “Chipotle Cream”, which sounded like an odd flavor for a tortilla chip. Cream-flavored chips, combined with chipotle, one of my favorite but oft-misused flavors? Sounds like a recipe for disaster, and those are generally my favorite recipes.

Perhaps I was blinded by my excitement in finding these chips, because I didn’t notice until I got home that these are not just tortilla chips. These are rolled tortilla chips.

Oh, I get it! Dinamita! Dynamite! Spicy, red, tubular chips! If only my eyeballs had moved two inches below the logo. It all makes sense, now.

Sabritas/Frito-Lay/Doritos could have gotten away with just throwing some regular chile images in there with the dinamita-shaped chips exploding off the package, but they went with authentico-looking chipotle peppers, which are smoke-dried jalapeños. Hence the wrinkled look. Points for “graphics exploding off the package” accuracy.

In case you’re confused about all the different product names, Sabritas is a Mexican snack-food company owned by Frito-Lay. As such, they market some of their products under both the Sabritas brand and other popular Frito-Lay brands like Doritos and Ruffles.

Since I live close to the border, I have the pleasure of seeing Sabritas snacks almost everywhere. The fun part is that almost all Sabritas packaging has both Spanish and English on it, which makes it like a tiny lesson in a foreign language. This is much more fun than taking Spanish in high school, because there are no tests, the translation is right there, and I learn much more useful phrases than “pasar la aspiradora”. That means “to pass the vacuum”, in case you were curious.

Doritos Dinamita Chipotle Crema Rolled Tortilla Chips Bag Back Top

I now know the Spanish words for “dynamite”, “explode” and “boom”, which will surely come in much more handy than vacuum passing. Especially in airports.

Doritos Dinamita Chipotle Crema Rolled Tortilla Chips Bag Back Bottom

Highlighting my observational skills, if I’d read the back of the bag I would have known right off the bat that this is these are not chipotle cream chips. These are chipotle cream cheese chips. Dinamita Doritos just got 100 percent more appealing. While I was willing to take one for the team and eat cream-flavored chips, I now want to go out and buy a block of cream cheese and a can of chipotle peppers, mix them together, and dip tortilla chips into it.

Luckily, I have these chips that claim to taste like that right here!

You might think cream cheese-flavored chips would taste about as awful as cream-flavored chips, but it definitely works in these Dinamita Doritos. While the chipotle built up a nice heat, the cream cheese still managed to shine through, and they compliment each other nicely.

While I could taste the pepper behind the heat, there was an unfortunate lack of smokiness in the chipotle flavoring, which is part of what gives the peppers a distinctive and delicious taste.

Doritos Dinamita Chipotle Crema Rolled Tortilla Chips

These being rolled tortilla chips, they were crunchier and a little bit harder than regular Doritos. I liked the shape; maybe it’s just me and my dainty ladymouth, but the size and triangular shape of regular tortilla chips is just big enough to make cramming a whole chip in my maw awkward. These rolled chips were easy to shove in my mouth.

While the small surface area would not work well with a dip like salsa, the added sturdiness would be perfect to scoop up, say, a dip made of cream cheese and chipotle peppers. That would be so meta.

Here are a few other uses I thought up for Dinamita Doritos:

1. Makeshift blowdart gun to use on your roommate who always steals your chips

2. Straw for sucking up salsa con queso

3. Vessel for snorting something totally legal because I would never condone doing drugs (but at least you won’t notice the chipotle burning your nostrils, since the totally legal drugs will already do that)

4. Breathing tubes if you’re getting your head cast in silicone (will burn your nostrils unless you already snorted something completely legal beforehand)

I found Doritos Dinamita Chipotle Crema Rolled Tortilla Chips to be quite the enjoyable snack. The actual cream cheese flavoring was unique and played well with the heat without being overwhelmed, but I did miss the smokiness of real chipotle peppers. I also really liked the size and texture of the chips. Plus, they’re multitaskers!

(Nutrition Facts – 1 ounce/15 pieces – 150 calories, 80 calories from fat, 9 grams of total fat, 1.5 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 0 milligrams of cholesterol, 200 milligrams of sodium, 17 grams of total carbohydrates, 1 gram of dietary fiber, 0 grams of sugars, 2 grams of protein, and 2% vitamin A.)

Other Doritos Dinamita Chipotle Crema reviews:
Junk Food Guy
Chip Review
Original Borris (YouTube)

Item: Sabritas Doritos Dinamita Chipotle Crema Rolled Tortilla Chips
Purchased Price: $2.99
Size: 9 3/4 ounces
Purchased at: Walmart
Rating: 8 out of 10
Pros: Noticeable and enjoyable cream cheese flavor. Impromptu Spanish lesson. Builds up to a nice heat. Meta dip. Good size and texture. Multitasking snacks.
Cons: Missing chipotle smokiness. Ghost Doritos. Not fit for all dips. Getting tackled by TSA for trying out new Spanish words.

REVIEW: Doritos JACKED (Smoky Chipotle BBQ and Enchilada Supreme)

Doritos JACKED Smoky Chipotle BBQ and Enchilada Supreme

My wife recently told me she admired my self-control around open bags of chips.   I asked what she meant, and she explained that if a chip bag is open, I’ll eat a certain amount until I’m not hungry anymore, then stop and let the chip bag sit there unmolested rather than continue to eat.   I’d never really thought about it that way, but in general, I think she’s right.   I can eat some potato chips and then keep the bag in front of me without touching it.   I can usually do that with tortilla chips.   I can even  pull it off  with cheese curls.

But Doritos are another story.   Open a bag of Doritos and you expose my all-too-human weakness.   I’ll keep eating those things until I force myself to close the bag and stash it away, or until it’s empty.   If it’s open and sitting out, self-control is not an option.

So knowing that about myself, what was I to think about Doritos introducing the “JACKED” sub-line (I feel strongly it should be all caps) that boasts of Bigger, Bolder, Thicker chips?   Should I be enthused, or worried?   Was I like a smoker getting excited because his Camels would now contain triple the nicotine?   And why “JACKED,” anyway?   Were they going to contain Monterey or Cheddar Jack cheese (no), or was  this just  a doomed marketing attempt to seem appropriately “street” (almost certainly)?
 
Then I thought about it for .43 seconds and realized two of those adjectives are completely irrelevant.   Who cares if each  individual chip is 40% bigger and thicker if the size of the bag remains the same?   If anything it’s a ploy to get you to eat the same number of Doritos you always did, but since there are fewer per bag, you’ll need to buy another bag sooner.   They could just as easily make the Doritos small and wafer thin and brag about how each bag contains thousands, yes thousands of chips!

But it’s the second adjective that piqued my interest, because fortune favors the bold and so do I.   The two inaugural flavors kicking off the JACKED line are Smoky Chipotle BBQ and Enchilada Supreme, and neither of those tastes screams “Let my subtle notes gently  waft across your palate.”   Appropriately for a product that debuted at the SXSW Festival, these are chips for extreme people with extreme taste buds; and while I may not be one of them, I’m always up for a challenge.

Doritos JACKED Smoky Chipotle BBQ

As you can see (the penny is for scale, I haven’t taken to eating copper… yet), the Smoky Chipotle BBQ chips are definitely larger than their standard Doritos brethren, and while it may not be clear from the picture, noticeably darker as well.   I was unable to find one completely intact; I’m not sure if that’s a consequence of them being bigger and crunchier, or just having two toddlers who like to help unpack groceries.   The smell is surprisingly subdued, not at all the intense aroma that typically warns you to proceed carefully with spicy food.

My expectation was that, despite the best efforts of the marketing department, the Chipotle BBQ Doritos wouldn’t be absurdly hot, so as not to deter most of the target audience.   Frankly, I was afraid they’d go too far and end up with wuss chips; and luckily, that fear proved groundless.   They pack a greater crunch than the regular variety due to their increased thickness, and you can clearly taste the classic Doritos artificial cheese on them.   But with it definitely comes an explosion of spice that won’t send you sprinting for a gallon of milk, but will probably make you think twice about eating any without a cold drink handy.   Darned if there isn’t a bit of a smoky flavor to them too, complementing the heat.   It’s worth noting that the spice distribution is slightly uneven, some chips being noticeably hotter than others, but I’m not sure there’s any way that could’ve been avoided.  

Doritos JACKED Enchilada Supreme

Likewise, the Enchilada Supreme Doritos carry a less potent aroma than I would’ve expected.   They mostly smell like regular Doritos, with just a hint of Mexican spices if you really focus.   The taste, however, packs just as much of a wallop as the Chipotle variety, if not more.   Immediately your tongue is hit with a tangy salsa taste, and it IS tangy.   I would say the flavor is more intense than the Chipotle variety but doesn’t linger as long — like a process server, it gets in, hits you with a lawsuit or paternity papers, and gets out immediately.   It also has a cheesier taste than regular Doritos, which is much appreciated, along with some tomato flavor.   And not that these have anything in common with “real” Mexican cuisine, but as someone who makes his tacos with shells, beef, cheese, and that’s it, I was slightly nervous about this flavor but found myself really digging it.   You can also more easily eat them without a beverage handy than the Chipotle variety, since the spice doesn’t linger nearly as long.

I’m often skeptical of attempts to improve an established product I like, and doubly so if they appear to be pursuing the Poochie demographic.   That said, I’m surprised to be able to happily recommend both of these new flavors.   The increased size and thickness is largely window dressing, but they both have chops as far as spiciness, albeit in different ways.   I’m a little more partial to the Smoky Chipotle BBQ flavor myself, but regular visitors to the Bell or a real Mexican restaurant may swing more in favor of the Enchilada Supreme.   Either way though, you’ve got something good on your hands.   Just remember to stretch properly before getting that X-treme; cramped taste buds are NOT cool, man.

(Nutrition Facts – 1 oz (about 6 chips) – Smoky Chipotle BBQ – 130 calories, 60 calories from fat, 7 grams of total fat, 1 gram of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 0 milligrams of cholesterol, 160 milligrams of sodium, 17 grams of total carbohydrates, 1 gram of dietary fiber, less than 1 gram of sugars, and 2 grams of protein.   Enchilada Supreme – 140 calories, 60 calories from fat, 7 grams of total fat, 1 gram of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 0 milligrams of cholesterol, 170 milligrams of sodium, 17 grams of total carbohydrates, 1 gram of dietary fiber, 0 grams of sugars, and 2 grams of protein.)

Other Doritos JACKED reviews:
FatGuy Food Blog
Junk Food Guy (Smoky Chipotle BBQ)
Junk Food Guy (Enchilada Supreme)

Item: Doritos JACKED (Smoky Chipotle BBQ and Enchilada Supreme)
Price: $4.29 each
Size: 10.5 oz
Purchased at: Giant
Rating: 8 out of 10 (Smoky Chipotle BBQ)
Rating: 7 out of 10 (Supreme Enchilada)
Pros: Doesn’t wimp out on the spice.   Bolder.   Enchilada Supreme definitely tastes like both cheese and tomato.   Begrudgingly, I’ll admit they are more “extreme” than regular Doritos.   You can really see the spicy crystals or whatever on the Chipotle BBQ kind.   Catch you on the flip side, dudemeisters!
Cons: Irrelevant size increases.   Not exactly cheap.   “JACKED” is not a word typically associated with good things (carjacked, jacked up on steroids, etc).   The description on the bag contains phrases like “mind-blowing” and “Can you handle it?” without an air of tongue-in-cheek self-awareness.   Might lead to you accidentally eating your iPod Nano.

REVIEW: Limited Edition Doritos (Sour Cream and Onion & Salsa Rio)

Limited Edition Doritos (Sour Cream and Onion & Salsa Rio)

I once had a vivid dream that I traveled back in time to 1980. I don’t exactly remember why I’d chosen to time travel to that particular year, but I do recall being acutely aware that I had to avoid running into my parents at any cost. I also recall eating at a McDonald’s and being freaked out that I received my fast food in un-biodegradable Styrofoam containers. Faster than you could say “Marty McFly,” my alarm clock started buzzing, and I was whisked from my 80’s dream world, back to the present. I still have no idea what instigated my impromptu fast food run across the space-time continuum. Guess I was seriously jonesin’ for some junk food.

Which brings us to Doritos. Thanks to them, not only can we time travel in our sleep, we can also time travel at snack time! Old-timey, discontinued flavors, Sour Cream and Onion and Salsa Rio Doritos are out once again, sold in jaunty retro packaging, which I am assuming is Doritos’ attempt to duplicate the success of its re-released, late-60s era “Taco Flavor.”

Sour Cream and Onion Doritos were originally introduced in the early 80’s (…so I guess that means I could’ve bought some of those in my dream instead of destroying the environment with Mickey D’s). It’s strange that the Doritos people think we’d want that flavor again NOW, especially considering that we already have, like, eight thousand other Doritos flavors that more or less duplicate or improve upon the simplicity of sour cream and onion. Anyway, having come back to us now in the 21st century, Sour Cream and Onion Doritos have a robust onion flavor, which is balanced nicely by the sour cream taste. Not bad. But I can’t really tell the difference between this and Cool Ranch — a fact that does little to convince me that this flavor needed to be re-released.

Limited Edition Doritos (Sour Cream and Onion & Salsa Rio) Closeup

Salsa Rio Doritos are also visitors from the recent past…this time, from the late 80s. And we all know how awesome the late 80s were! I’m looking at you, Gorbachev! Just like glasnost, Salsa Rio Doritos are bold and delicious. These chips approximate the flavor of fresh tomato salsa with chopped onion very well and even have a little kick of heat. It’s interesting to note that this flavor had the shortest shelf life of the two when it was first introduced 25 years ago. Maybe people were too busy being coked up and rocking out in their leggings and Members Only jackets to Terence Trent D’Arby to go shopping for salsa-flavored tortilla chips.

I posit that Sour Cream and Onion and Salsa Rio Doritos have come in special Limited Edition retro bags so that they will attract more attention. Well, it worked. I like the detail and both flavors make charming little additions to the Doritos flavor spectrum, even if their Limited Edition status means they won’t be around forever. Not unlike Terence Trent D’Arby.

(Nutrition Facts – 1 bag (28g) – Sour Cream & Onion – 290 calories, 17 grams of fat, 2.5 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 0 milligrams of cholesterol, 380 milligrams of sodium, 34 grams of carbohydrates, 2 grams of fiber, 1 gram of sugar, and 4 grams of protein. Salsa Rio – 290 calories, 16 grams of fat, 2.5 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 0 milligrams of cholesterol, 430 milligrams of sodium, 34 grams of carbohydrates, 2 grams of fiber, 1 gram of sugar, and 4 grams of protein)

Item: Limited Edition Doritos (Sour Cream and Onion & Salsa Rio)
Price: $1.09 (on sale)
Size: 1 ounce
Purchased at:
CVS
Rating: 7 out of 10 (Sour Cream and Onion)
Rating: 8 out of 10 (Salsa Rio)
Pros: Time traveling in your sleep. Retro packaging. Two swell additions to the pantheon of flavored tortilla chips. Delicious, fresh tomato salsa flavor. Glasnost. Terence Trent D’Arby.
Cons: Styrofoam fast food containers. Being too coked up to care about salsa. Sour Cream and Onion tastes similar to Cool Ranch. “Limited Edition” means these Doritos won’t be around forever.

REVIEW: Doritos Fiery Fusion and Cheetos Fiery Fusion

Doritos Fiery Fusion and Cheetos Fiery Fusion

Machismo + 90’s Xtreme = the present day douchebag.

I have concluded that the above is the correct formula. Or as a recipe it would read, one part exaggerated masculinity and one equal part X-Games generation, a gallon of penis envy, and a pinch of misdirected anger will give you the douchebag.

Everyone remembers the late 90’s where every…fucking…thing was so damned EXTREME! (Extreeeeme!!!) And you know it was extra extreme when they got rid of the “e” and it was just X-treme or some stupid variation. Images of snowboarders, tats, overdone spiked hairdo’s with goatees grasping some neon green drink, you know XXXXXTREME MUTHAfuckas!!! Red Bull’s and Frïs Vodka anyone?

Once the 90’s gave way to the new millennium, the very common denominator of the public latched on to all the worst things about the EXTREME (Extreeeeme!!!) crowd. After the Y2K scare, Buckle clothing stores were popping up all over the malls like a gonorrhea infection. Davidoff’s Cool Water cologne stepped aside for Axe Tiger Cock or something like that. Walking billboards for midlife crises were wearing Affliction shirts with Ed Hardy jeans and populating posh bars as they imbibed Jager-bombs (note: Sake bombs fall in this category too and if you order a sake bomb in a sushi restaurant, I guarantee your sashimi has been deservedly seasoned with ass-crack sweat).

This is the mutated ugly side of men who were not smart enough to understand metrosexual (which is a term I hate as well). And yes, food wasn’t immune to this movement either. You aren’t a real man unless you can eat those fucking ghost-chili hot wings or scotch bonnet poppers filled with Szechuan whatever the hells. Be a man and eat it!

Or at least that’s what the sticky laminated stained menu tells me and douchebags gotta eat too. As much as I love hot food, I know it’s entering the realm of overly macho men who either eat it hot or eat it big (and sometimes both). Fuck me.

Our love of spicy food is demonstrated in the growing popularity of Thai and Indian cuisines. The general public is beginning to accept flavors more exotic than a Cajun spiced chicken finger. In fact, sriracha is now offered at a lot of restaurants. I assure you it won’t be long before we slather some kimchi on hot dogs, I have and it’s good.

Like anything that becomes popular, they are dumbed down for a dumb public. So as much as I admire those Trekkie-like hot sauce collectors and the adventurous eater tucking into a Ethiopian goat stew scorching with berbere, I was a little pessimistic when I saw the Fiery Fusion flavors for Doritos and Cheetos. I love hot food and normally when it is in snack form, it’s tepid.

The name was a bit douchebaggy too, Fiery Fusion. It sounds like it’s some kind of new scent. When I hear “fusion” in regards to food, I picture bad Asian cuisine mixed with western elements. Ahi-tuna salad comes to mind. Like flies, these places are inhabited by shaved headed “bro’s” in an un-tucked shiny shirt using a pair of chopsticks in one hand and bumping fists with other “bro’s” Tapout-style. Good God.

Fusion, however, for Frito-Lay means “Sizzlin’ Cayenne & Cheese.” Both respective packages have “Fiery Fusion” written in red orange to clue you in that it is “sizzlin’” which may be different from sizzling.

Frito Lay has played around with spicy offerings before in regards to both brands. The wasabi dusted Mr. Dragon’s Fire Chips Doritos were a bit flaccid in the heat department but tasty. The progressively hot “Degree Burn” series released by Doritos are another good example. Not one to be eclipsed, Cheetos brought out their FLAMIN’ HOT and Cheddar Jalapeño variations. Without a fist bump to spare, I gave in and bought both at the gas station bro.

Doritos Fiery Fusion

Doritos Fiery Fusion

Upon opening, an immediate rich smell of peppers emanated from the bag and this was a good sign. The chips had the normal orange look of Doritos without a fleck of red powder. At first crunch, it tastes like a nacho chip crossed with a barbecue potato chip if you can imagine that. Then the comforting vinegar tang hits your senses. The chips had a faint earthy sweetness, almost like brown sugar. While it tasted good, I was ready to chalk up my $1.29 as a casualty because I didn’t sense any heat.

Like sleight of hand, I never saw it coming or in this case…taste. A slow burn started to build on my tongue and then it crept to the back of my throat before I even knew it. This was really good. The more I ate, the hotter my mouth became. Surprisingly, the heat also never competed with the flavor unlike so many other spicy chips. I prefer the gradual fire that builds into a storm and would say the effect is similar here.

These chips are the hottest Doritos I’ve eaten. They taste better and are spicier than the Doritos Flamas that has been selling as of late. And unlike the Flamas, I left no red handprints all over my walls like it was the freaking ending of Blair Witch.

Let me caution you, do not expect a capsaicin-fueled roller coaster or your tongue to IGNITE (as the bag claims it will). Even though these are the spiciest Doritos I’ve had, it is far from the spiciest food I’ve ever eaten. I would place the Doritos way above the level of Taco Bell’s Fire sauce but below Tabasco. Still, it’s a welcome punch from a bag of corn tortilla chips. My only complaint is wishing Doritos would turn up the heat a bit more, but that’s negligible.

Despite my feelings, these Doritos really can back up their claim that these are hot. The burn will linger around for a minute and then it’s gone, like a sip of good angry bourbon. I would buy these again. It satiated my hunger for something spicy and who doesn’t love a Dorito chip now and then? Or a bourbon? Fistbump yo!

Cheetos Fiery Fusion

Cheetos Fiery Fusion

I waited almost a day to open these, partly because I didn’t want to eat them immediately after the Doritos and not get a clean taste. …Mostly because I spent the rest of the day on a scotch fueled bender celebrating my friend’s birthday. (Extreeeeeme!!!)

So here I am staring at Chester Cheetah’s mug at five in the morning. That creepy ass show about missing people in America is on with a theme song that is as scary as the one from Unsolved Mysteries.

I stared at the bag over the chorus chanting “Missing. These people are missing” (see? I told you it was creepy). I went ahead and opened the bag in a clumsy manner. The smell of corn and fake cheese powder made its presence. I took one out and noticed there were patches of red splotches as if the Cheetos had a rash.

Eating one, it tasted very bland. What the hell? These were really boring. Taking a swig from a can of Sprite that has been lying on the counter since the day before, I went back to bed. I needed to sleep off my impending hangover. Additionally, my mouth felt like I went down on a bag of mulch.

I awoke to the sound of that CBS Sunday Morning opening. Feeling better, I decided to give those Cheetos a second try. Lulled from the trumpet of Wynton Marsalis, I walked into the kitchen and grabbed the bag. After eating a few, I confirmed it for myself.

These were so boring and dry. All I could taste was the corny corn puffs and fake-o cheese powder. The heat barely registered but like the Doritos, it would come up from the backside. That is the only similarity between the two.

I would compare the heat to that of a paper cup filled with coffee and too much non-diary creamer that has been sitting in a conference room for a day because the cleaning staff was too lazy to toss it away and now there is a ring on the table, so please clean it. I don’t care if that is a run on sentence, but it’s the best way I can describe the lack of any burn.

Sizzlin’ Cayenne & Cheese hmm? The cheese part is right but these were terrible if you could not tell. I couldn’t taste the cayenne and eating them felt like a mouthful of Styrofoam peanuts. I don’t know if it needed more salt or more cheese. More heat for sure.

Compared to the Doritos, these Cheetos are the lazy brother who sits around all day smoking pot, perpetually borrows money to buy more vinyls, and at the end of the day has accomplished nothing but a big fart. I know I’m being harsh, but these just plain sucked. I would rather wear a stupid Affliction t-shirt than eat another.

Even though it cost me $1.29, I want my money back. I feel ripped off and now I know why Chester is dancing on the bag. I want to knock his stupid sunglasses off. The bag is pushing “0 grams of trans fat” instead of how these things are so hot it will melt your eyeballs into a soup that you can drink later. This should have been a clue.

I’m not sure what makes me angrier, the fact that they are so bland or that the heat is neutered. I want my $1.29 back assholes! And in pennies so I can put them in a sock and flail it into Chester’s face.

(Nutrition Facts – Doritos Fiery Fusion – 1 ounce/12 chips – 140 calories, 70 calories from fat, 8 grams of fat, 1 gram of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 0 milligrams of cholesterol, 160 milligrams of sodium, 16 grams of carbohydrates, 1 gram of dietary fiber, 0 grams of sugars, and 2 grams of protein. Cheetos Fiery Fusion – 1 ounce/21 bland pieces – 150 calories, 10 calories from fat, 1.5 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 0 milligrams of cholesterol, 190 milligrams of sodium, 14 grams of carbohydrates, less than 1 gram of dietary fiber, less than 1 gram of sugar, and 2 grams of protein.)

Other Doritos Fiery Fusion and Cheetos Fiery Fusion review:
Food Junk
That Bootleg Guy
Hot Chicks Eatin’ Spicy Chips

Items: Doritos Fiery Fusion and Cheetos Fiery Fusion
Prices: $1.29 each (A bargain for the Doritos, an obscene rip off for the Cheetos.)
Size: 3 ounces (Doritos Fiery Fusion)
Size: 3.25 ounces (Cheetos Fiery Fusion)
Purchased at: 7-Eleven (where the bottled water is spicier than these friggin’ Cheetos)
Rating: 9 out of 10 (Doritos Fiery Fusion)
Rating: 3 out of 10 (Cheetos Fiery Fusion)
Pros: In a saturated market of spicy chips, Doritos Fiery Fusion stand out. The Doritos are hot and the flavor alone was delicious, I would eat it even if they weren’t spicy. The heat lingers on both snacks and stays in the back of your throat comfortably. The Cheetos are not as bad as getting scrotum cancer. The Cheetos are also not as bad as a robot led apocalypse.
Cons: The Doritos could be a tad hotter. Cheetos are devoid of taste or heat. Fist bumps and sake bombs. The Cheetos have an unpleasant feel in your mouth. Theme song to Unsolved Mysteries. Chester and his sunglasses annoy me. Cunnilingus on mulch.