Tag: Dunkin

Throughout the course of human history, it becomes necessary, at certain times when the illusion of progress has been reached, to stretch culinary creativity even further.

Especially in fast food lest we become too far accustomed to dry hamburger patties on stale sesame seed buns or rubbery egg byproducts adorned with nothing more than cold, unmelted processed “cheese.”

In 2009, it was the Double Down. More recently, it was the fusing of chip and taco for Taco Bell’s Doritos Locos Tacos. Shocking, innovative, delicious, and perhaps even life threatening in copious amounts? No doubt. But completely freaking worth it.

But has such innovation been available before 10:30 AM?

No.

So with an eye towards pushing the envelope of acceptable gluttony at the breakfast table even beyond the realms of Fruity Pebbles consumed with half-and-half while sitting naked in front of reruns of Looney Tunes*, Dunkin’ Donuts has unveiled the Glazed Donut Breakfast Sandwich.

To be honest, I wasn’t surprised when I heard about it. Don’t get me wrong, I was excited to try the sandwich, but not in the OMG shock-and-awe kind of excitement that resonates in middle school text message conversations. Personally, I’ve been eating salty and meaty things on donuts for years.

What with the proximity of Burger King and Krispy Kreme in Salt Lake City Airport’s Terminal B, it was inevitable during my money-strapped and homesick college days that those two worlds would collide in a surprisingly tasty combination. And given the burgeoning popularity of any number of Luther Burger designs, I know I’m not the only one who has been waiting for the mainstream acceptance of using a donut as a bun.

Boasting a pepper-fried egg and cherrywood-smoked bacon, the sandwich comes out just like any of Dunkin’s other toasted sandwiches — an employee zaps the egg and bacon in a microwave/toaster oven/silver box I presume cooks (or at the very least warms) the food, and then the contents are assembled on the bread of choice. I didn’t ask if I could get the sandwich with another type of donut, but the Original Glazed is a no brainer.

However, Dunkin’s Glazed Donut has its flaws. Namely, it’s a bit on the petite side, and doesn’t have the kind of homemade rise that really, really good donuts have. But it’s still light and airy with that sweetly rich taste of fried dough that makes eating a donut much more pleasant than eating…Well, celery or some crap like that.

I especially liked how the flavors of the fried egg and bacon, oozing their own buttery and pork fat juices, respectively, seeped inside of the donut. It’s like someone decided to put sweet cream butter on a donut. Why has no one thought to do that before?

Anyways, the glaze, while slightly chipped in places and not boasting 100 percent topside coverage, had been warmed in the radiant heat of the wrapper, resurrecting it to a fresh baked, slightly gooey, and stick-to-your-fingers texture that will leave you licking your lips hours after finishing.

As for the pepper fried egg and cherrywood bacon, both were good, but not that good. The egg had a decent flavor with some saltiness and butteriness. It didn’t, however, have a crisp fried egg texture. And the only thing the black pepper specks added to the party was a hint of disjointedness with the donut’s sweetness.

The bacon was good, but limp. They were the standard fast food precooked strips that (ironically) many fast food restaurants are moving away from these days. Lacking crunch or a pronounced smoke flavor, I didn’t pick up on the cherrywood and missed what could have been a real textural contrast with the donut. Worse yet, I even managed to pick up a slightly burnt taste on the edges of one the stripes.

However, despite the bacon’s faults and it being cliché to say sandwiches scream for more bacon when all other attempts at improvement fail, this donut sandwich needs more damn bacon!

I also have to admit the sandwich is already a bit awkward to eat given its construction. Wrapped tightly in paper, the donut itself is compressed and somewhat steamed by the warm contents of the egg and bacon. That combination causes the donut’s underside to break down like a helpless burger bun battling against too much fat and moisture from a seeping patty.

Thusly, attempting to pick it up and eat it like an actual sandwich is a recipe for getting donut goo on yourself. I don’t mind so much because I think donut goo could make an attractive moisturizer or cologne.

Dunkin’ Donut’s new Glazed Donut Breakfast Sandwich is innovative, but messy. It’s good, but not great. It’s well thought out, but not executed well. In short, it’s not all that it could be, and not all that fast food junkies demand it should be. Still, for those spurred on by a bit of impulse and a hankering to try something new for their morning (or afternoon) routine, it’s an enjoyable bite of sweet and salty.

*Hypothetically speaking, of course.

(Nutrition Facts – 360 calories, 180 calories from fat, 20 grams of fat, 13 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 60 milligrams of cholesterol, 720 milligrams of sodium, 32 grams of carbohydrates, 1 gram of fiber, 13 grams of sugar, and 13 grams of protein.)

Other Dunkin’ Donuts Glazed Donut Breakfast Sandwich reviews:
Grub Grade
Junk Food Guy

Item: Dunkin’ Donuts Glazed Donut Breakfast Sandwich
Purchased Price: $3.39
Size: N/A
Purchased at: Dunkin’ Donuts
Rating: 7 out of 10
Pros: Another affirmation of team sweet ‘n salty in the fast food world. Glazed donut gets resurrected in an gooey way. Egg patty has surprisingly good flavor. Tastes like a buttered glazed donut. Less calories than Dunkin’s “healthy” Turkey Sausage Sandwich.
Cons: Doesn’t go big or bold enough. Bacon lacks crunch or cherry smoke flavor. Pepper fried egg is not actually fried in butter, but instead infused with “Natural Sautéed Flavor.” Messy. Awkward to eat. Doesn’t feel quite worth its price tag.

Well, it’s about time!

How refreshing to find somebody taking a stab at an Irish creme-flavored somethin’-or-other for St. Patty’s Day. Green food coloring? Snooze. Artificial mint extract? Been there, clogged that artery.

But whiskey, creme, and cocoa, all wrapped up in a pillow of cakey dough? Now that’s a breakfast of bold hooligans. Bold hooligans like you and me, so, with the blood of my Irish ancestors pulsing through my wee little veins, I dodged my regular glazed cake and nabbed this fella.

Yes, indeedy, that is my vessel of morning justice. Oval-esque and a bit wonky, it reminds me of Gilly, the pet rock I had as a child. Fortunately, unlike a pet rock, this is edible, coated in sugar, and won’t get lost in a tragic river rafting accident.

Now, to dive in…

The cake, which was fresh from the fryer, is puffy enough, if a little dry and tasteless, but I’m accustomed to that in a Dunkin’ do[ugh]nut. Now, to counteract that, there resides plenty of this beige, Irish-creme-like palm oil goo, which fills about 1/3 of the cake’s interior, but, like the mutagen that created the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, this goo can be used for creation…or destruction.

They say love blinds a person. If that’s true, someone loves sweetness in the Dunkin’ Donuts testing facilities because, holy bag of potatoes, Batman, the creme’s definitely sweet, which is a good thing in that it adds some sense of flavor, but I fear it also might make my great grandmother rise from her Irish grave and knock me right in the cake-hole fer consumin’ a product that defies all them laws of what Irish creme should be!

“But grandma!” I’d say, “This particular interpretation of Irish creme focuses on the beverage’s sharp condensed milk flavor!” She would then argue that there’s very little dimension to counteract that flavor, like cocoa or espresso or whiskey. On this, she would be right: where’s the whiskey? I demand whiskey in my palm oil!

However, if I put my expectations of Irish creme authenticity aside, the filling tastes okay. Like vanilla pudding and Cool Whip mixed with a hint of coffee medicine from some sort of Kahlúa flavoring. It wants to be bitter, but just can’t help but stick to its sugary ways. A little dip in the chocolate frosting might’ve added some contrast to help this guy stand up to its fellow pudgy rounds.

I really wanted to find myself scrounging for crumbs here, but, no matter how hard I try, I just can’t finish the whole thing. Alas, this one has fallen victim to one-dimension-ness.

“Et tu, Brute?”

(A little ode to the Ides of March there)

Oh, if only it were simple to create a mass-marketed success. Innovators cast the dice, but they can never be absolutely sure about how a product will fall, and this one fell off its rocker somewhere. Is it terrible? Nope. Will I buy it again? Ehhh… I’d rather have a Girl Scout cookie.

However, while not great, I would be sad if the Irish Creme offering left forever to be replaced by some Smo-Joe green-glazed doughnut. It gets props for innovation, and, at the same time, it could use some help in the flavor department. Don’t give up on it, important people at Dunkin’. With a quick dip in a vat of glaze or a reformulation of the filling, this doughnut has potential.

(Nutrition Facts – 260 calories, 135 calories from fat, 15 grams of fat, 7 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 0 milligrams of cholesterol, 350 milligrams of sodium, 0 milligrams of potassium, 29 grams of carbohydrates, 1 gram of dietary fiber, 10 grams of sugars, and 3 grams of protein.)

Item: Dunkin’ Donuts Irish Creme Donut
Purchased Price: $1.00
Size: N/A
Purchased at: Dunkin’ Donuts
Rating: 4 out of 10
Pros: Sweet. Pudding-like filling. Plenty of filling. Cake is puffy. Not nasty. Innovative. Irish ancestors. Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. Gilly, my pet rock.
Cons: Too sweet at times. Bland cake. Dry cake. Wimpy powdered sugar dust. Gets boring. Absence of whiskey. The fact that “not nasty” is in the pros. The Ides of March. Being haunted by my great grandmother.

So I’ve had cookies on my mind lately. 

It started when I volunteered to review Dunkin’ Donuts’ latest summer creation, the Oreo Vanilla Bean Coolatta, which I’ve had at least four of in recent weeks.  Then we brought Chips Ahoy! to my family reunion, always a massive affair thanks to my great-grandparents being really great at procreating.  Finally, my wife had me watch Cookie Monster’s cover of “Call Me Maybe” because one of her old sorority sisters is a background dancer in it.  Now every day I find myself humming, “Hey, me just met you, and this is crazy / But you got cookie, so share it maybe?”  (On the plus side, he harmonizes better than Carly Rae Jepsen.)

As you might surmise from my multiple trips to the well, there are a lot of good things to say about the Oreo Coolatta.  It’s always nice when I’m able to review something I was planning to try anyway, and this for sure qualifies.  Non-coffee drinkers sometimes struggle to find something at DD to wash down a nice chocolate glazed, and the vanilla bean Coolatta was the answer to my prayers, so long as I don’t mind having the shakes for the rest of the day.  Which I don’t.  Still, I’ve always believed variety is the spice of life, as long as it’s an incredibly minor modification of something you already know you like.  And I was pretty sure this would essentially be just a Vanilla Bean Coolatta with Oreo pieces mixed into it.

Which, as it turns out, is pretty much what it is.  There are two new Coolatta varieties, Oreo Coffee Coolatta and Oreo Vanilla Bean Coolatta.  I didn’t try the coffee variety, though one might infer that it would taste a bit like a mochaccino with a different, grittier kind of chocolate.  But if you’ve ever had a standard Vanilla Bean Coolatta before, you have a pretty good idea what to expect, which is to say: pure awesomeness.  They have (at least at the beginning) a great consistency, not too thick to slurp through the straw, but not so liquid-y that it’s like drinking a soda.  Except in terms of sweetness, because damn.  I know I joked about it earlier, but seriously, you need a hearty sweet tooth to enjoy this beverage.  People content with an apple as their main sweet for the day need not apply.

So with the excellent Vanilla Bean Coolatta as its base, it was just a matter of making sure the addition of Oreo didn’t throw things out of whack, right?  Potential problems might’ve included the Oreo pieces being too large to comfortably fit through the straw, leading to blockages or making the overall consistency too thick.  But that wasn’t an issue — the Oreo bits, while easily visible, are small enough that the overall consistency remains the same.

The texture, however, is a bit grittier, as you’d expect.  And the taste is understandably similar, though not identical.  Still extremely sweet, but with that highly distinctive chocolate flavor that I’m struggling to describe other than “tastes like an Oreo.”  It’s not quite as rich as an actual Oreo cookie, but it still makes the Coolatta a bit more nuanced than the regular Vanilla Bean variety.  It also creates a distinct aftertaste, leaving you tasting the chocolate well after the vanilla bean has faded from your tongue.

I should clarify that I can’t say for a fact that this is just the standard Vanilla Bean Coolatta with Oreo bits in it.  Oreos obviously have a creme filling too, and it’s possible DD has added a little of that creme to the vanilla base.  I honestly can’t swear to it one way or the other, but if they have, it’s fairly subtle.  Which should not in any way dissuade you from trying what has turned out to be one of this summer’s best treats.  The price is a bit steep and it goes without saying you’re not allowed to drink one without an insulin IV, but you can’t quibble with the taste.  Om nom nom!

(Nutrition Facts — 1 small Coolatta — 420 calories, 80 calories from fat, 9 grams of fat, 4 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 20 milligrams of cholesterol, 230 milligrams of sodium, 88 grams of carbohydrates, 75 grams of sugar, 1 gram of fiber, and 3 grams of protein.)

Item: Dunkin’ Donuts Oreo Vanilla Bean Coolatta
Purchased Price: $2.99
Size: 16 fl. oz.
Purchased at: Dunkin’ Donuts
Rating: 8 out of 10
Pros: Doesn’t taste like coffee.  Oreo bits are just the right size.  Chocolate is a nice addition but doesn’t overwhelm the beverage.  Very minor variety.  Let’s get skim milk flowing, we’ll start this snack going, baby.
Cons: A little pricey.  Really, really, just crazy really sweet.  Not nearly as enjoyable when it starts melting.  Family reunions where they order about 8 mushroom pizzas and only one plain, like, WTFingF?

Is it me, or is Dunkin’ Donuts just constantly trying out new stuff?  I’ve been with TIB for a year and a half, and I swear they’ve rolled out at least a half dozen different products within that time.  And that’s just hot foods; I’m not even counting new donuts or drinks.  Far be it from me to tell a massive multinational conglomerate how to run their business, but is that really productive?  How is there even time to analyze market data on how a product is being received before it’s gone and replaced by something new?

But ultimately, that’s not what we’re here to answer; you’re wondering whether DD’s latest offering, the Angus Steak & Egg Sandwich, is worth a try.  Or you’re bored at work and they’ve disabled Minesweeper on your computer.  Either way, let’s get down to business.  The Steak & Egg sandwich is being marketed as a very masculine sandwich.  It drinks whiskey straight from the bottle.  It has only cried twice in its life.  (Its father’s funeral and at the end of Old Yeller.)  And if there’s truth in advertising, it will help you “Show Your Morning Who’s Boss. ” This is a sandwich for men, manly men, the kind who build skyscrapers, tame wild animals, and “wear the big boss pants.”  Stay away, ladies — you couldn’t handle this sandwich.  Why, one bite would send you scurrying back home to your momma.  Angus doesn’t need you and it doesn’t want you.

Hopefully that’s also true of the men who’ll be consuming it, since the Angus Steak & Egg comes standard on an onion bagel, meaning you won’t be locking lips with anyone after eating it.  That’s okay, real men don’t have time for kissing anyway.  Since I’m a writer and thus not particularly manly, I got mine on a plain bagel, but be aware you have to ask for that — onion is the default, which could be a nasty surprise if you’re not expecting it.  On a plain bagel, it smells good, though not substantially different from most breakfast sandwiches; in other words, the cheese and egg contribute more to the aroma than the steak does.

Appearance-wise, it looks… above average.  The cheese, steak, and egg are all clearly visible within the sandwich from almost any angle, and when you remove the top you see they didn’t skimp on any of the components.  As the picture illustrates, my bagel got burnt, but hopefully that was user error specific to my server instead of just the way they’re made.  On the other hand, the cheese was quite melted, which is great.  Can’t complain about the size of the Angus patty, though I’ll offer that it looks more like a standard fast food hamburger than anything you’d actually think of when hearing the word “steak.”

As for the taste, it’s quite good, assuming you’re able to manage your expectations.  If you’re genuinely expecting the equivalent of a nice porterhouse or New York Strip steak on your mass-produced breakfast sandwich, well, I guess you’re out of luck.  (Also, dumb.)  It tastes a bit like adding eggs to a cheesesteak, and I don’t mean that as a criticism.  I found that the combo of the cheese, egg, and steak melded well together in my mouth, warm and savory with reasonable juiciness.  The bagel was decent, crisp enough but, again, relatively burnt.  Taken as a whole, the sandwich was both filling and tasty.

Not nearly as impressed was I by tearing off a small piece of just the steak.  It’s not bad, but fair or not, the word “Angus” conjures up a certain beef pedigree that can be hard to live up to.  This is like Angus’s great-grandson, the one who gets a cushy executive job at the family business and is told to just show up most days and try not to knock up his secretary.  And like a 4th generation executive, it seems much more impressive when bolstered up by the hard work of its undervalued support staff, eggs and cheese.  Together they make a good team and can actually capitalize on the steak’s strengths while effectively masking its limitations.  For that reason, I’d call the Angus Steak & Egg Sandwich a relative success and encourage you to try one sometime in the next two weeks, before it gets replaced by the Lobster Bisque Croissant or whatever.

(Nutrition Facts – 1 sandwich – 630 calories, 230 calories from fat, 26 grams of total fat, 12 grams of saturated fat, 1 gram of trans fat, 255 milligrams of cholesterol, 1390 milligrams of sodium, 67 grams of total carbohydrates, 4 grams of dietary fiber, 4 grams of sugars, and 34 grams of protein)

Other Dunkin’ Donuts Angus Steak & Egg Sandwich reviews:
Fast Food Geek
Grub Grade

Item: Dunkin’ Donuts Angus Steak & Egg Sandwich
Price: $3.99
Size: 1 sandwich
Purchased at: Dunkin’ Donuts
Rating: 7 out of 10
Pros: Always something new to try.  Good smell.  Cheese is melted nicely.  A sandwich that’ll put hair on your chest.  Doesn’t skimp on the egg or steak patty.  Won’t stick around long enough to get boring.  Cheese and egg meld nicely with the steak for a savory taste.
Cons: Onion bagels.  Burnt.  Women who come within 10 feet of this sandwich often become spontaneously pregnant.  85%(!) of your recommended daily intake of cholesterol, and 58% of the sodium.  The steak on its own is uninspired.