REVIEW: Panda Express Golden Treasure Shrimp

Panda Express Golden Treasure Shrimp

When I think of treasure, naturally, I think of pirates. There is such a strong, fundamental connection between massive hidden hauls of loot and buccaneering that it can be difficult to envision anything else. So you can understand my hesitation to associate pirates with panda bears when I first heard about Panda Express’s newest entry, Golden Treasure Shrimp.

As adorable as pandas in pirate costumes may be, I am tired of pirates. Like so many other North Americans who have been assailed by three (soon to be four) Pirates of the Caribbean films of gradually decreasing quality, numerous high-profile news stories of Somali pirate attacks, several thousand Captain Morgan commercials, and countless Captain Jack Sparrow Halloween costumes, I am so deep in the throes of Pirate Exhaustion that I didn’t want to experience anything pirate-y again for a while. But, by the Beard of Barbarossa, the Golden Treasure Shrimp demands a pirate-speak review. CURSES! Here goes nothing:

Avast ye mateys! Golden Treasure Shrimp ’tis representin’ an improv’ment upon th’ texture and flavor o’ Panda Express’s other tempura shrimp dish, Honey Walnut Shrimp. Accordin’ to th’ proud pronouncements on their site, Golden Treasure Shrimp be a “succulent tempura shrimp, wok tossed with fresh bell peppers in a zesty citrus sauce.”

Arrrr… ‘Tis true, th’ sauce be zesty, but that’s due in no small part t’ its spiciness, which be an unexpected and pleasant surprise. Since th’ coatin’ be so similar t’ PE’s SweetFire Chicken’s sweet chili sauce, I wonder why th’ scalawags dinnae just call th’ new dish SweetFire Shrimp. While only a wee bit citrus-y, th’ sauce has a bold flavor ‘n a nice “lip spiciness” that provides enough heat t’ make it interestin’ without becomin’ too overpowerin’ or painful. A smart sip of grog should cure what’ever lingerin’ heat ails ya.

Panda Express Golden Treasure Shrimp Closeup

Bein’ a lubber o’ tempura-style anythin’, I was pleased t’ find th’ Golden Treasure Shrimp’s batter was crispy despite o’ th’ fact that it be drenched in tangy sauce. However, if let sit for a while, I imagine th’ batter would smartly become soggy. Good thin’ I dinnae wait. Th’ tempura coatin’ be a wee bit heavy ‘n leaves a touch o’ residue on th’ tongue, since it be a tad oily, but th’ shrimp itself be tender ‘n tasty, ‘n weren’t overpower’d by th’ coatin’.

Th’ only downside be th’ sparse addition o’ chopped bell peppers. There were not that many peppers in me servin’ o’ Golden Treasure Shrimp, and they be tiny pieces t’ begin with, so they hardly added t’ th’ overall presentation. But if you enjoy flecks o’ color in your food, these peppers accomplish that job. Compared t’ th’ Honey Walnut Shrimp, th’ Golden Treasure Shrimp be a nice kick in th’ britches, says I. Yeeeaaaarrr!

(Nutrition Facts – 5 ounces – 390 calories, 170 calories from fat, 19 grams of fat, 3 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 115 milligrams of cholesterol, 500 milligrams of sodium, 39 grams of carbohydrates, 2 grams of fiber, 15 grams of sugar, 16 grams of protein.)

Item: Panda Express Golden Treasure Shrimp
Price: Free sample during promotion (normally $6.57 incl. tax for a Panda Bowl)
Size: 5 ounces
Purchased at: Panda Express
Rating: 8 out of 10
Pros: Pandas in Pirate costumes. Shrimp is tender and tasty. Hidden hauls of loot. Spicy sauce is a tasty surprise and isn’t overpowering. Tempura-style anything.
Cons: Pirate Exhaustion. Bell peppers are rather sparse. Captain Jack Sparrow. Sauce isn’t all that citrus-y. Tempura coating is heavy and a little oily. Pirate-speak.

REVIEW: Dunkin’ Donuts Big N’ Toasty

Dunkin' Donuts Big N' Toasty

I had high expectations for the Big N’ Toasty. For one thing, the sandwich looks incredibly appetizing in all of its many, many commercials. For another, I like the usage of the “N” – it’s less formal than an ampersand, more fun than an “and,” and less algebraic than a plus sign. In-N-Out, Rock ‘n’ Roll, Salt-N-Pepa: I love them all and they all use an “N.”

And yet, the best-laid plans of mice and men (mice n’ men?) often go awry. The Big N’ Toasty was a definite disappointment. Let’s break this down piece by piece.

The Toast: The Texas toast is really supposed to be the major draw here, and while it was thick, fresh, and flaky, the toast’s defining quality was unfortunately its incredible greasiness. You’ll need as many napkins to eat the Big N’ Toasty as you would to get through a bucket of fried chicken. I actually skipped eating the very center of the sandwich because it was simply soaked through with butter, and my hands were so greased up that I wasn’t sure I could even hold the sandwich in place anymore.

The Eggs: The Big N’ Toasty features two peppered fried eggs. While I could see that the eggs had speckles of pepper and were otherwise a visual departure from the eggs found in every other DD breakfast sandwiches, I couldn’t actually taste any difference. If anything, I would say the eggs in the BN’T were more rubbery and artificial-tasting than the regular eggs.

The Bacon: Before I offer any criticism of the bacon in the BN’T, let me just say that, in my mind, bacon is the undisputed king of breakfast meats, and even a subpar serving of bacon beats the hell out of ham, sausage, or, god forbid, Canadian bacon. Some people might describe bacon as the Michael Jordan of breakfast meats; I prefer to think of Michael Jordan as the bacon of NBA players.

So while I imagine ham and sausage still would’ve been worse choices, I felt mightily letdown by the bacon in the Big N’ Toasty. There are supposed to be “four slices of Cherrywood smoked bacon,” but the four slices were more like two normal-sized strips cut in half. Given the bulk of the sandwich, there were more than a few bites where I tasted little-to-no bacon. Furthermore, I found the bacon to be too soggy, which was perhaps amplified by the excessive grease of the toast. I’ve had much better bacon experiences with Dunkin’ Donuts’ regular sandwiches in terms of bacon taste, bacon texture, and bacon-to-rest-of-sandwich ratio. Granted, the crew at my local DD may have been having an off-day with their bacon cooking, but that would only explain away the taste/texture and not the overall amount of bacon.

(By the way, I just set a new The Impulsive Buy record by using the word “bacon” in a single paragraph ten times. TIB: Where Amazing Happens!)

The Cheese: Just standard fast-food American cheese. Nice and melted but nothing special.

I feel like I’ve been a touch too harsh on the Big N’ Toasty up until this point. If its appearance in commercials weren’t so food porn-y, or if it were just named the Big AND Toasty, I probably wouldn’t have been so disappointed. On the whole, the BN’T makes for a sizable breakfast at a reasonable price, and since Dunkin’ Donuts previously hadn’t served anything on toast – Texas or otherwise – I appreciate the additional variety. If you feel compelled to give it a try, just make sure to temper your expectations and grab some extra napkins.

(Nutrition Facts – 1 sandwich – 580 calories, 320 calories from fat 35 grams of fat, 11 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 125 milligrams of cholesterol, 1370 milligrams of sodium, 41 grams of carbohydrates, 1 gram of fiber, 4 grams of sugar, and 26 grams of protein.)

Item: Dunkin’ Donuts Big N’ Toasty
Price: $3.29 for the sandwich, 4.99 with medium coffee
Size: N/A
Purchased at: Dunkin’ Donuts
Rating: 4 out of 10
Pros: Thick, fresh, and flaky toast. Sandwich is big and reasonably priced. Using an “N” instead of “and.” Bacon, always. Entering the TIB record book.
Cons: Incredibly greasy toast. Eggs were rubbery, not peppery. Skimpy and soggy bacon. Food porn-y ads that inflate expectations.

REVIEW: Wendy’s Spicy Bacon & Blue Chicken Sandwich

Wendy's Spicy Bacon & Blue Chicken Sandwich

There is no mention of the Bacon & Blue anywhere on the Wendy’s website, Twitter feed, or Facebook fan page. I had to go back to my local Wendy’s the morning after eating this sandwich just to make sure I hadn’t dreamt up the whole thing. I even considered going back the next morning, too, in case I had made up the sandwich in a dream within a dream like my life was some kind of fatass version of Inception, but I decided against it because I didn’t want my ex-wife showing up and stabbing Juno and this review not making any goddamn sense at all after a while.

Don’t worry though, your buddy who took a philosophy course freshman year will gladly explain how you just don’t get it and that this review is, like, totally brilliant.

Anyway, I guess Wendy’s is test-marketing the Bacon & Blue Chicken Sandwich in the Boston area, and I couldn’t be more delighted.

Wendy's Spicy Bacon & Blue Chicken Sandwich Sign

The recipe is simple enough. They’ve added Applewood smoked bacon, crumbled blue cheese, and a slice of Swiss to the original Spicy Chicken Sandwich, which was already my favorite non-Chik-fil-A fast food chicken sandwich. For those of you who’ve never had it, the SCS contains a heavily-breaded, moderately-spiced chicken filet on a Kaiser roll with lettuce, tomato, and mayo. According to Wikipedia, the SCS itself started out as a promotional sandwich but was brought back full-time by popular demand, which I can only hope will be the fate of the Bacon & Blue.

As you can see from the picture, the bacon is pretty impressive-looking, with enough heft and crispiness to distort the angle of what should otherwise be a flat top bun. It was impressive-tasting as well, especially compared to what I’ve generally come to expect from fast food places (inclusive of Wendy’s… I can’t remember the last time I had a good Jr. Bacon Cheeseburger). The bacon was an excellent addition in terms of both texture and taste, as it struck a great balance between chewy and crunchy and contributed a noticeable sweetness to the sandwich.

Wendy's Spicy Bacon & Blue Chicken Sandwich Bleu Cheese

The blue cheese was surprisingly plentiful and not all that poorly distributed. Its tanginess played really well with the spices of the chicken filet, and there wasn’t a single bite that was overwhelmingly rich. My one small complaint would be that I wish the blue cheese had been better melted by the heat of the chicken, but I suppose it’s partially my own fault for taking my to-go bag and immediately stepping out into 10 degree weather for the four-block walk home. Or more macroscopically, it’s my own fault for living in the gray winter nightmare that is New England. But then again if I didn’t live here I wouldn’t have been able to try this sandwich and write this review. WHOA, did I just blow your mind, CHRISTOPHER NOLAN-STYLE? I can’t tell if this joke is working or not, so maybe WE JUST NEED TO GO DEEPER…into discussing the rest of the sandwich.

The chicken filet was sufficiently flavorful and juicy, and the roll, lettuce, and tomatoes all seemed reasonably fresh. On the downside, there was slightly too much mayo, and the slice of Swiss cheese was so useless that I had actually forgotten its presence prior to re-examining my photos of the sandwich. I also need to bring up the price. I have no idea how expensive blue cheese is, but $5.99 for a fast food sandwich feels a bit pricey. You could get 30 Wendy’s chicken nuggets for that money!

Still, if Wendy’s decides to roll out the Bacon & Blue Chicken Sandwich nationwide, you should absolutely try it. As for me, I’ll be returning to Wendy’s once more this week. If it turns out the test-marketing is still happening and I’m not in fatass Inception, I will definitely be getting this sandwich again.

(Nutrition Facts – Not available.)

Item: Wendy’s Spicy Bacon & Blue Chicken Sandwich
Price: $5.99 sandwich, $7.29 small combo
Size: N/A
Purchased at: Wendy’s
Rating: 8 out of 10
Pros: Bacon was chewy, crispy, and hefty. Blue cheese was plentiful and tasty. Filet was sufficiently flavorful and juicy. Wendy’s chicken nuggets. Christopher Nolan not getting a “Best Director” nod at the Oscars.
Cons: Pretty expensive for a fast food sandwich. Swiss cheese was useless. Too much mayo. Blue cheese not really melted. New England winters. No Chik-fil-A in Boston. Your buddy who took a freshman year philosophy course. Living in the fatass version of Inception. My apparent vendetta against Christopher Nolan when I actually liked Inception.

REVIEW: Quiznos Prime Rib on Garlic Bread Sandwich

Quiznos Prime Rib on Garlic Bread

There are few things more appealing to a man than the prospect of a well-made sandwich.  An extra hour of sleep.  A come hither look from his wife or girlfriend, or casual female friend, or that woman who winked at him in a bar on June 18, 2003, who may or may not have had something in her eye.  A YouTube video of monkeys smoking and throwing poop.  Ladies, take a lesson. If you want your man to do something, be it overthrowing your brother or finally taking down those Christmas lights (plus light-up dreidel and menorah), be waiting in his bed with smoky eyes, a video of monkeys fighting, and a grilled cheese and bacon sandwich.  It worked for Cleopatra and it will work for you.

So needless to say, I was looking forward to Quiznos’ Prime Rib on Garlic Bread sandwich.  I don’t frequent Quiznos often because there’s only one nearby and they’re a bit on the pricier side, but I’ve always enjoyed their food when I’ve eaten there, and how can you go wrong with prime rib and garlic bread? Admittedly I was expecting it to be made with actual garlic bread, which I still maintain would be awesome.  Instead it’s regular bread with garlic aioli sauce liberally (depending on your server) spread across it.  This has the effect of giving the sandwich a garlic smell, and the flavor of the sauce is definitely in the garlic family, but not as bold or in-your-face as pure garlic.  More refined, if that makes any sense, a smoother garlic taste, like if you’re used to drinking IPAs and someone slides you a wheat beer.

Apologies to any non-alcoholics who don’t get that reference.

Note that it also comes with lettuce and tomato. They’re not pictured because Drew does not do healthy things.  Hilariously, as soon as I pulled out my camera to take the photographs, the woman who prepared the sandwich came over like eight times to make sure it tasted good and wasn€™t too burnt.  My fault, I guess, for not wearing a sign saying “I AM NOT A QUIZNOS CORPORATE SPY SENT TO EVALUATE YOUR SANDWICH-MAKING SKILLS, I AM A LOWLY FOOD BLOGGER WHO WILL NOT BE DISCLOSING YOUR SPECIFIC LOCATION.”  I still have a lot to learn, I€™m afraid.

Quiznos Prime Rib on Garlic Bread Innards

The amount of prime rib in the sandwich is what I would describe as perfectly adequate.  (Unlike the sodium, which is impressively obscene.)  At no point did I find myself biting down on nothing but
bread, like a teenager finding out his date’s bra is filled with Kleenex; but neither was I ever pleasantly surprised by the sheer quantity, like realizing she’s been wearing a sports bra all evening. You might be able to finagle a little extra meat if you’re more attractive than I am, or if you throw in a little hip shake or some free tickets to the gun show.  Still, what was there was flavorful, and they didn’t skimp on the cheese.  

The bread was, of course, toasted and made for a nice contrast with the creamy garlic sauce.  The edges got a little blackened, as you can see; I don’t mind a little char myself, but be on the lookout if you’re not okay with that.  I’ll offer that the sauce could maybe have been spread out a bit better — in some bites it overpowered the prime rib flavor, in others I could barely taste it — but again, that’s more attributable to your individual sandwich preparer.  (No, I will not call them “artists” until they use my tax dollars to create something that A) doesn’t look like anything, and B) is colossally ugly.  Veggie subs don’t count.)

Overall, the garlic sauce manages to complement the meat and cheese nicely to create a good sandwich. I’d like to give it a higher score, but that price is just ludicrous for the size of what you’re getting. I know Quiznos brands itself as the “high end” fast food sub joint, but while the sandwich WAS tasty and I’m presuming the meat was taken from only the most pampered, humanely euthanized cows, there is absolutely no way you should be paying $5.49 plus tax for a 6-inch sandwich.  (It’s also available in medium and large sizes, which undoubtedly come with paperwork for the mortgages necessary to buy them.) I reserve the right to change that score if I spontaneously start dropping gold nuggets in my boxers tomorrow, but until then, this is a yummy sandwich that I would suggest you let someone else buy for you.

(Nutrition Facts — 1 small sandwich — 560 calories, 245 calories from fat, 27.5 grams of fat, 12 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of artificial trans fat, 0.5 grams of natural trans fat, 85 milligrams of
cholesterol, 1820 milligrams of sodium, 43 grams of carbohydrates, 1 gram of fiber, 5 grams of sugar, and 32 grams of protein.)

Item: Quiznos Prime Rib on Garlic Bread Sandwich
Price: $5.49
Size: Small sandwich
Rating: 6 out of 10
Pros: Tasty garlic aioli sauce suitable replacement for garlic bread.  Made quickly.  Pleasant, non-overpowering smell.  Visually appealing when bread is closed.  Reasonable amount of meat.  Sports bras.  Attentive servers.
Cons: Given the price, apparently made with truffles and lobster. Sodium explosion.  Not actual garlic bread.  Reasonable amount of meat… if it was a $3 sandwich.  Burns easily.  Paranoid servers.

REVIEW: Popeyes Red Hot Popcorn Chicken

Popeyes Red Hot Popcorn Chicken

The Popeyes Red Hot Popcorn Chicken combo meal kicked my ass.

I eat fast food once a month, maybe less. Until this most recent adventure, I had never even been to a Popeyes. This probably makes me a terrible American. Having publicly admitted to these failings, I doubt they’ll let me back into the Midwest unless I overcompensate with an NRA card and at least two prominent Jesus-themed accessories.

It wasn’t the heat that got me. In fact, I fear my Sriracha sauce addiction is beginning to screw with my heat sensors. It’s just so delicious on everything! Today, I think I may have some on chocolate. Maybe a Sriracha s’more. This won’t even be a new low for me, assuming it doesn’t taste worse than canned Chinese water bugs or KC Masterpiece on a Twinkie.

Based on my damaged sensibilities, I felt that while the popcorn chicken offered a nice kick, the heat didn’t ever seem to build, likely thanks in part to the biscuit and ranch dip, both of which offer up tongue relief in addition to scary quantities of buttermilk (more on those supporting characters in a few paragraphs).

In the end, it was the sheer amount of greasy carb-loaded things that brought me down. The meal itself comes in a box roughly the same size and shape as a brick, which is exactly how it felt once it hit my stomach.

No one warned me that combo meals are a thing one needs to train for. I should’ve started on this months ago with a small order of Cajun fries every few days, maybe a sweet potato pie on the weekends. But I like my new jeans and wish to continue fitting into them, so it’s probably better that I didn’t make that much of a commitment.

The oh-so-convenient brick box is supposedly designed to be easy to eat on the go. I ate a good portion of it on the way home without incident, only to spill ranch all over my coffee table ten seconds after getting home. To my roommates: I am sorry if the Swiss army knife on the shelf smells like rancid buttermilk forever. Just try not to get it near your faces. It’s not my fault that those things have so many strange, hidden crevices. Point being, dip will always be the downfall of on-the-go meals.

Popeyes Red Hot Popcorn Chicken Meal

Oh – and sorry everybody else. I never properly introduced the cast of today’s lunch. The meal includes Cajun fries, the new Red Hot Popcorn Chicken, a signature biscuit, and ranch dip (the nameless character actor visible in the background of so many of chicken’s greatest appearances). The ranch felt like an afterthought, at worst the lazy answer to an otherwise one-note tub ‘o carbohydrates, at best a beacon of salvation for the stereotypically wimpy American palate. When the girl at the counter lovingly flung my ranch dip into the bag as she handed it over the counter, even the best five star service was put to shame, and my mounting ranch doubts were all but confirmed. That’s not to say the goop didn’t function as a delightful contrast to the spices in the chicken. There’s a reason ranch has earned its place of high acclaim alongside chicken bites and wings from sea to shining sea. I just wish Popeye’s had used this opportunity to shine by offering up some sort of creative twist harkening back to the bayou, perhaps gator sauce or fresh, warm oil.

The Popeye’s website describes the Red Hot Popcorn Chicken as being marinated in a “unique four pepper blend of Cayenne, white, black, and Habanero peppers.” Right. Okay then. For starters, black and white pepper are technically the same thing: shriveled almost-berries on a vine. For real. I found this out when I moved to California. Habaneros and Cayenne, like all other chili peppers, grow as flowering plants and are part of the nightshade family. Those guys also offer capsaicin, which makes them hot, unlike black peppercorns, which just sit there looking like a cluster of sun-baked BBs. So really we’re dealing with two heat-producing peppers and two standard, under-achieving spices in this red hot popcorn chicken. Color me unimpressed and pour me another shot of Sriracha. This concludes your horticulture lesson for today, kids.

What else have we got here in this box of wonders? Oh yes, the biscuit. I kind of love the extraneous biscuit thing Popeye’s does. It’s like a little acknowledgement that there is no hope in your meal choice. At this point, the most they can do is go ahead and throw the buttery behemoth in the box from the get-go to save you the shame of ordering it separately. So thank you, Popeye’s, for understanding me so well and reacting with discretion.

Everything inside the box was flavorful, providing the illusion of variety. The combo even seemed to hit all three of the main fast food groups: meat, starch, and sugar.

I’d declare this box my food of choice for bad days if the nearest Popeye’s wasn’t inconveniently far away, in the opposite direction of my workplace, nestled back into that one strip mall out by San Diego State where everyone goes for the good FroYo.

If you’re looking for nutritional sustenance or the five-star treatment, look elsewhere, but if you’re feeling rebellious, either toward your digestive tract or to the world at large, this is your winner. Remember to allow for the standard post-fast food bathroom time the next morning, and to bring along an extra dollar on your Popeye’s trip for some sweet potato pie. The unassuming little sign at the register burrows into one’s heart like a sad puppy and does not let go. Mmm… pie.

(Nutrition Facts – conspicuously impossible to track down, which is probably ultimately for the best)

Other Popeyes Red Hot Popcorn Chicken reviews:
Brand Eating
An Immovable Feast

Item: Popeyes Red Hot Popcorn Chicken
Price: $2.99 with chicken, fries, biscuit, and ranch dip ($3.99 with drink)
Size: N/A
Purchased at: Popeyes
Rating: 8 out of 10
Pros: Excellent crunchy/meaty ratio amongst all the popcorn chicken bites. Good baseline spice level. Sriracha. Black pepper vines. Chicken is juicy. Cajun fries-based training regimen. Biscuit!
Cons: Sad puppies. Barbequed Twinkies. Bringing shame to my Midwestern relatives. Sriracha not already present in this meal. Half the featured peppers not actually the hot kind. Buttermilk funk permeating certain areas of my living room. Oil spill joke too late to be topical, yet not outdated enough to no longer be in bad taste.