Tag: Dunkin

I don’t eat breakfast on-the-go very often, usually opting for a simple bowl of cereal and some OJ at the kitchen table with my kids.  Very Norman Rockwell.  But on rare occasions — like if between the baby and me it’s been a 3-diaper-change morning, or one where I have to shave, put the garbage out, AND explain why you can wear the sparkle shoes or the pink shoes but not the pink sparkle shoes — well, I might have to skip the suburban flakes and grab something on the way.  When that happens, it’s always Dunkin’ Donuts and I invariably get the same thing: a bismark, and a chocolate glazed (January-August) or pumpkin donut (September-December).  This does not change, because while there are other donuts I like, those are the best.  Feel free to disagree (everyone should take up a lost cause once in their life), but it should help you understand why I recently confused myself by walking into DD and not only not getting my usual order, but not getting a breakfast food whatsoever. 

That is, of course, due to DD’s latest offering, the Texas Toast Grilled Cheese.  Sort of a lunchtime offshoot of the recent Big N’ Toasty Breakfast Sandwich, your first thought on seeing one might be that it looks like they took the BN’T and stripped out the bacon and eggs.  And… there would be a lot of truth to that, as it does play sort of the basic model compared to the fully loaded BN’T.  To be specific, the new sandwich is two thick pieces of Texas toast with two slices of American cheese and one slice of cheddar in between.  The whole thing is ironically oven toasted rather than grilled, served hot (or in my case, kinda warm).

Any good grilled cheese sandwich obviously lives or dies by the cheese.  If you were hoping the Double D was going to get esoteric with their diary selection, guess again — American and cheddar are about the most predictable options they could’ve gone with.  The other side of that coin is that those are the most popular cheeses because they’re both really good.  However, I still think DD might’ve increased this sandwich’s mass appeal by giving us a few options to choose from, like Monterey Jack or Swiss.  But they didn’t, so you’ll get American and cheddar and like it.  And I did, mostly.  The cheddar had just a bit of kick to it, slightly sharp, which I like in a cheddar.  But it was mostly overwhelmed by the decent but standard American cheese, no doubt due to the 2:1 ratio.  Both kinds were melted well, another key component of any successful grilled cheese.  Overall, my impression of the cheeses was that they’re pretty good, but not exactly lighting the world on fire.

Ironically, my favorite part might’ve been what’s traditionally the most boring aspect of a sandwich, namely the bread.  Texas toast is one of those foods that’s fantastic when done well but really disappointing if it’s either under-toasted or burned.  Fortunately mine was just the right texture, toasted perfectly so that it was soft enough to easily dig into, but with enough crunch to feel satisfying.  It also tasted buttery, another must-have.

But that’s really it, because the cheese and the bread are the only two components of the sandwich.  Apparently it can be customized with bacon or ham, but DD might be shooting themselves in the foot by not better advertising that — I didn’t see any such option listed on the menu and my server didn’t offer it.  Which is a shame — I would’ve been willing to throw in a few more cents or a saucy wink in exchange for meat, because that’s the kind of carniv-whore I am.  Other than the missing pork, I didn’t mind too much because I’m a sandwich minimalist, but those who like to indulge in things like “pickles” and “condiments” and “fixins” will no doubt be left wanting worse than my high school girlfriend.  You know, when she didn’t get into the college she wanted.  Obviously.

Finally, not for nothing, but the fat and sodium content are more worrisome than my longstanding crush on Erin Esurance.  (Whatever, I’m not the only one.  The internet told me so!)  The sandwich is pretty filling, but unless it’s the only thing you’re eating for lunch, it could easily have you packing on the ell-bees.  I know, unlike the rest of Dunkin’ Donuts’ fare, but still.  Moderation is advised.

(Nutrition Facts – 1 sandwich – 510 calories, 270 calories from fat, 30 grams of fat, 13 grams of saturated fat, 940 milligrams of sodium, 41 grams of carbohydrates, 3 grams of sugar, and 18 grams of protein)

Item: Dunkin’ Donuts Texas Toast Grilled Cheese Sandwich
Price: $2.99
Size: 1 sandwich
Purchased at: Dunkin’ Donuts
Rating: 6 out of 10
Pros: Breaking out of your routine.  A little bite to the cheddar.  Melty, melty, melty.  Crunchy Texas toast.  Buttery flavor.  Fairly filling.  Ability to add meat.
Cons: Not publicizing the ability to add meat.  High fat and sodium content.  Lacking in the ingredients department.  No additional cheese selections.  I can make this exact sandwich in my kitchen in 5 minutes.

I’ve always been supportive of fast food corporations’ revenues on new items, and now that the Colbert Super PAC has taught me corporations are people, I am also trying to be more supportive of fast food corporations’ self-esteem. In order to be more sensitive to Dunkin’ Donuts’ feelings, and because their new product is a sandwich, I will use the sandwich method of feedback to review the new Smokehouse Sausage Breakfast Sandwich by sandwiching each piece of negative feedback between two positive thoughts.

Positive: The sandwich stayed warm while I walked the 6 blocks home.
Negative: I recently moved apartments and there are now two Starbucks within those 6 blocks. You better up your locations around here, Dunkin’. I love you, but I also love gingerbread lattes and free WiFi.
Positive: On the other hand, the counter guys at Dunkin’ Donuts never judge me for constantly confusing the only two Italian words I know. Stupid smug baristas.

Positive: The cheese was well-melted and kept the split-length-wise sausage link in place very well.
Negative: I suppose the two half-links of sausage probably provide more meat than a regular sausage patty, but they were like a square peg being put in a round hole, or more accurately two half-cylinders bifurcating an oblate spheroid (now there’s an expression that could really catch on). The half-links felt awkwardly bulky on an English muffin, and I ended up with inconsistent amounts of meat in each bite.
Positive: Overall, the sandwich did feel a bit more filling than your average Dunkin’ Donuts breakfast sandwich.

Positive: The premium sausage is produced by Hillshire Farm, whose founders are in the Wisconsin Meat Industry Hall of Fame. No seriously, that exists.
Negative: Any Hillshire Farm product hits you with a bunch of fat and sodium, and this new sandwich is no exception, weighing in with a whopping 36 grams of fat and 1,500 milligrams of sodium.
Positive: I’ve finally found a Hall of Fame whose membership is worth spending my life aspiring to.

Positive: I guess the sausage had some slight scent of smokiness to it.
Negative: That slight smoky scent didn’t really translate at all into the taste. (I just spent a half hour trying to formulate a joke about the minuscule smokiness of this sandwich, my roommate’s pack-a-week smoking habit, and smoking his sausage. I couldn’t get it to work, but dammit, B, if you stop smoking I’ll promise to stop making sex jokes about you in my reviews.)
Positive: Sausage means penis and that is funny.

Positive: The sausage mostly just tasted like a hot dog (I happen to like hot dogs). As with your average hot dog, it was quite salty, and the casing had some snap to it.
Negative: As anyone who’s ever been to a ballgame knows, overpaying for a hot dog sucks, and this sandwich cost four dollars.

I know that last feedback sandwich was open-faced, so here’s a super positive closing paragraph to make up for it and boost Dunkin’ Donuts’ self-esteem. That was a good try, Double D! Just because I wouldn’t buy the Smokehouse Sausage Breakfast Sandwich again doesn’t mean I won’t come visit all the time and taste whatever new items you have rolling out next. Hey, didn’t your IPO just go really well? If you’re still feeling down after this review, I’ve got great news: Starbucks has buy-one-get-one-free holiday drinks this weekend. How about a gingerbread latte, my treat?

(Nutrition Facts – 550 calories, 320 calories from fat, 36 grams of fat, 13 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 245 milligrams of cholesterol, 1,510 milligrams of sodium, 36 grams of carbohydrates, 1 gram of fiber, 4 grams of sugar, and 21 grams of protein.)

Item: Dunkin Donuts Smokehouse Sausage Breakfast Sandwich
Price: $3.99
Purchased at: Dunkin Donuts
Rating: 4 out of 10
Pros: Sausage mostly just tasted like a hot dog. The melted cheese kept everything in place pretty well. Sandwich stayed hot on my walk home. It might’ve been a bit more filling than an average DD breakfast sandwich. There’s a Wisconsin Meat Industry Hall of Fame. Using the sandwich method of feedback. Buy-one-get-one-free gingerbread lattes.
Cons: Sausage mostly just tasted like a hot dog. Smokehouse sausage wasn’t actually all that smoky. Half-links in an English muffin were awkwardly bulky. Tons of sodium and fat. $4 is too expensive for what would be considered a small hot dog. Judgmental baristas.

In my lifetime, I’ve put a lot of questionable things in my mouth and raw pumpkin is the least troubling of them. The other things I’d rather not say. One year, being really bored, I ate a slice when I was carving a Jack O’Lantern for our annual Halloween party. I was a bit stunned because pumpkin has no real flavor. Go ahead and eat a piece when you are carving out those triangle eyes or nose.

See? It’s like the edible version of my boring cousin who is a short wave radio fetishist…no character whatsoever. Seriously, the only excitement that guy gets is when he hits one of those weird “number stations” that repeat digits in an eerie robotic voice. Don’t even get me started with the spooky ones that have “The Lincolnshire Poacher” playing after the numbers are repeated. I’m still creeped out when I hear the sound of a recorder or a flute. It’s a bit WickerMan-ish (not the Nicolas “flaring nostrils” Cage version mind you).

Getting back to pumpkins, what we are really doing is attributing the “taste” to a combination of nutmeg, cinnamon, and some ground ginger which is the major trifecta in pumpkin pies. Think about the pumpkin beers or pumpkin ice creams you have all consumed. Nutmeg is the dominant flavor and the remainder plays varying degrees of intensity.

The nutmeg/ginger combo is perhaps the most popular flavor that invokes our mind for the year-end holidays. The next holiday flavor has to be creamy menthol which is my favorite. When done well, both can be delicious regardless of what vessel is used to transport that essence. I myself like a Midori mixed with some creme de menthe for a holiday cocktail but I have great affection for nutmeg too.

If we’re playing for keeps on holiday tastes, my shout goes for all the lucky Jewish friends I have. They get to gobble up all those latkes during Hanukkah, and who the hell doesn’t love some fried potato pancakes and that eight candle of death: The flamethrower Menorah?

Dunkin’ Donuts wanting a piece of that holiday proverbial (pumpkin) pie has intelligently chosen a donut as its vessel and just recently introduced the limited edition pumpkin donut (that has to be the most times the word “donut” has been used in a sentence). Which I suppose is much more appealing to the masses versus a fried potato flavored donut or a jelly donut filled with sweet mint cream. I would buy both but I’m also the guy who ate a 7-Eleven Banh Mi which was about as successful as the Vietnam War.

I warn you dear reader and admit that Dunkin’ Donuts can vary from locations. There is one close to me where I swear the elderly riddled with bed sores in nursing homes are given more attention. The donuts here are hard and taste like afterthoughts.

Instead, I frequent the one where every time I go, the smell of fried dough lets me know it’s always damn time they make the donuts! When a “Dunkin'” donut is hot and fresh, it can rival those of the indy (and trendy) boutique donut shops that food/travel shows like to suggest we buy from lest we are bucktoothed knuckle-draggers.

With that said, know that this review is based on a shop with significant foot traffic thanks to being a neighbor with a hospital that has a major emergency trauma center. I bought two, one to eat immediately and the other to leave in that white bag to be scarfed down the following day. I wanted to see if the flavor held up since most of us are not Steven Seagal and do not eat all the donuts in one sitting.

I mean have you seen that guy? He was the freaking “squinting eyes/taking names/kicking ass” hero in Under Siege. Now that he’s a sworn border patrol agent, I’m sure the only Mexican he is going to catch is a chicken burrito or a beef chimichanga with extra sour cream.

I shelled out under two bucks for a pair of pumpkin donuts. The smell of the donut was pleasantly intense with spicy nutmeg and faint cinnamon wafting by. It was similar to the scent of a fresh baked banana or zucchini bread straight from of the oven. Images of roast turkeys, mittens, hot cocoa, and the Holiday Crate and Barrel catalog permeated my brain. Yes, I want a fifty dollar silver reindeer candelabra to validate my life.

The donut has a thin sheen of sugar glaze which cracked slightly when I bit into the fried cake donut. This was a very welcoming texture and the sweet glaze was just right, not heavy like a frosting. The cake was moist and perfectly dense. Shit, this was a good donut methinks.

The taste of the donut was at the same “Oh. Em. Gee.” level. It was a great hit of autumn spices and a tinge of nuttiness. I really enjoyed the fact the sweetness of the cake came from the translucent sugary coat. Dunkin’ Donuts was smart in not making the batter overly sweet and letting the spices do the singing and the sugar glaze perform its respective job.

The donut was still warm and practically melted in my mouth with each bite. Instead of a pumpkin pie, I actually want a box of these on Thanksgiving which I am sure some hipster already has thought of doing so he can look so “emo” and ironic-like. Screw you and your collection of Cut Copy t-shirts.

I left the other in the bag and would eat it the next morning while watching my DVR’d episodes of The Venture Bros. Did they hold up? For the most part, yes albeit a bit stale in texture but that’s to be expected. The comforting smell was still present and the taste was not affected. I would actually dunk these in milk or an espresso just to compensate for the slight dryness in the cake. Like Henchman 21, you can depend on these being a crowd pleaser. The pumpkin donut is definitely one of the things you want to put in your mouth this season.

(Nutritional Facts – 340 calories, 170 calories from fat, 19 grams of fat, 9 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 25 mg of cholesterol, 260 mg of sodium, 38 grams of total carbs, 1 gram of dietary fiber, 19 grams of sugar, and 3 grams of protein.)

Item: Dunkin’ Donuts Pumpkin Donut
Price: approximately 80 cents a donut
Size: 1 donut
Purchased at: Dunkin’ Donuts
Rating: 9 out of 10
Pros: The texture and the thin coat of sugar smartly combine into something close to mouth-feel nirvana. Steven Seagal was Above the Law and Hard to Kill. The taste is a pleasant pumpkin spice flavor that you will want to visit again. Dr. Girlfriend is really sexy if you put her on mute. This donut will invoke the holidays and make you feel festive. Cut Copy just rules, especially their second album.
Cons: This donut is only available for a short while. Steven Seagal is now Eating Burritos and is Huevos Rancheros Crazy. You need to buy from the right Dunkin’ Donuts (hint: go to the one near a hospital or other businesses that guarantee foot traffic all day and not just the morning). Brock Samson-less episodes kind of blow. Invoking thoughts of holidays suck when the only memories you have is arguing with Dad and “uncles” passing out on bitter egg nog.

For those of you who have busy Mondays, here’s a short review, in haiku form, of the Dunkin’ Donuts Stuffed Breadsticks:

Like bad Hot Pockets
Less filling, blander tasting
Same burns in my mouth

For those of you who are looking to waste some time on Monday, stick around for further elaboration (and rest assured that it will be elaborate).

I believe it was Tolstoy who once wrote, “Tasty fast food items are all alike; every crappy fast food item is crappy in its own way.” To this principle I must add a corollary which shall forevermore be known as the Stuffed Breadsticks Corollary: “… but some crappy fast food items are crappy IN EVERY WAY POSSIBLE.”

Dunkin’ Donuts is offering their newest concoction in two flavors, Pepperoni & Cheese and Cheeseburger. Both varieties of Stuffed Breadsticks had very little stuffing, and all the tiny chunks of meat had slid down to the bottom of the breadsticks by the time I started eating. To set up the second photo, I had to dig around the breadsticks with my fork like I was trying to reach the fruit at the bottom of a yogurt container.

I ate multiple bites of only bread before reaching any meat. The bread was tasteless, too chewy, weirdly pale where it hadn’t been toasted, and droopy to the point of shape-shifting. So it failed on the dimensions of taste, visual presentation, texture, and even shape, which hadn’t struck me as a significant feature of bread until just now. (Now that we’re heading off on a tangent, what would you say are the best and worst shaped breads? After careful consideration, I would nominate Challah bread as the best and – you guessed it – these breadsticks as the worst.)

Things didn’t get any better once I finally got to the stuffing. The Cheeseburger breadstick supposedly contained ground beef, cheese, and mustard, but all these ingredients were so bland that I couldn’t really taste anything. If I had to pick one taste sensation that I felt, I’d say there was a sort of sweetness to the filling. That doesn’t speak very well to Dunkin’ Donuts’ ability to recreate the taste of a cheeseburger; I’d estimate that I’ve said “Sweet, cheeseburgers!” (interjection to express excitement over anticipated cheeseburger consumption) roughly a million more times than I’ve said “sweet cheeseburgers” (descriptive phrase to communicate actual flavor of previously consumed cheeseburgers).

The Pepperoni & Cheese breadstick was definitely the better tasting of the two, but that’s about as much of an accomplishment as being the most useful poopy-flavored lollipop, or being the most entertaining re-appropriated Ben Stiller movie quote, or being the TIB writer who uses the fewest commas. The pepperoni pieces look and taste exactly like the meat in pepperoni Hot Pockets. They add a certain zest to the breadstick’s overall flavor, but the cheese and sauce contributed nothing to the eating experience except the burning destruction of my mouth.

Even the price was crappy. With each Stuffed Breadstick costing $1.79, two breadsticks and a small iced tea will run you over $5, which is enough to get you a much heartier and tastier combo from any number of fast food restaurants, Dunkin’ Donuts itself included.

In case I haven’t made myself clear yet, here’s another haiku to wrap things up:

These Dunkin’ Donuts
Breadsticks fail in taste, look, cost
DON’T GET THEM, EVER.

(Nutrition Facts – 1 stuffed breadstick – Pepperoni & Cheese – 210 calories, 7 grams of fat, 3 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 15 milligrams of cholesterol, 380 milligrams of sodium, 27 grams of carbohydrates, 1 gram of fiber, 2 grams of sugar, and 11 grams of protein. Cheeseburger – 200 calories, 6 grams of fat, 2.5 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 10 milligrams of cholesterol, 400 milligrams of sodium, 28 grams of carbohydrates, 1 gram of fiber, 2 grams of sugar, and 9 grams of protein.)

Item: Dunkin’ Donuts Stuffed Breadsticks (Pepperoni & Cheese and Cheeseburger)
Price: $1.79 each
Size: N/A
Purchased at: Dunkin Donuts
Rating: 1 out of 10 (Cheeseburger)
Rating: 3 out of 10 (Pepperoni & Cheese)
Pros: Pepperoni pieces were sort of tasty. Haikus. Challah bread. “Sweet, cheeseburgers!” as interjection.
Cons: Not much stuffing in either Stuffed Breadstick. Bread was bland. Cheeseburger stuffing was bland. Pepperoni & Cheese stuffing burned my mouth. Kind of pricey. “Sweet cheeseburgers” as descriptive phrase. Poopy-flavored lollipops.