These new spicy Hot Pockets are way more complicated than you were expecting. Not in taste though. That’s straightforward. What’s complicated is everything else. Allow me to explain.

First, like a music festival or an early 2000s Southern rap album, these Hot Pockets are presented by someone other than Nestle alone. These are all branded as “First We Feast presents: Hot Ones,” then the name of the type of Hot Pocket. And then, if that wasn’t enough, each one is “made with” some sort of non-Hot Pocket sauce. The Hot Habanero Pepperoni & Sausage is made with “Los Calientes Rojo,” the Smoky Green Chili Cheesesteak is made with “Los Calientes Verde,” and the Spicy Garlic Chicken & Bacon is made with “The Classic Garlic Fresno.”

I know, I’m sorry. It’s a lot.

In case you’re like me and wildly disconnected from most modern media, allow me to explain. (By copy/pasting from Google.) “First We Feast is an online food-culture magazine and YouTube channel. The site co-produces the YouTube series Hot Ones with Complex Media, its parent company.”

Okay, so in retrospect, I’ve heard of this. Hot Ones is the thing where celebrities eat really hot wings and, I don’t know… it’s funny? It’s touching? Whatever it is, it’s a lucrative enterprise. Because here we are, with branded Hot Pockets.

The Hot Habanero Pepperoni & Sausage

This thing OOZED sauce — cloyingly sweet sauce. I think my entire Hot Pocket had two small shards of pepperoni and three, maybe four sausage chunks. The pepperoni and sausage are the same meats used in all other Hot Pockets, so if you’ve had any of those, you know the drill. Salty, chewy, nothing to write home about. But really, this sauce. Oof. And how was the hotness? I mean, that’s really the whole point, right? It was… noticeable but not overly aggressive. The box suggested that the heat level was a 5 out of 10 — the same as the Smoky Green Chili Cheesesteak — and I don’t feel like the heat matched at ALL. It was much milder. So, if you had this one and found it tolerable from a heat perspective, please don’t assume the cheesesteak one will be the same. It’s not.

Smoky Green Chili Cheesesteak

This one BURNED. The heat kicked in fast and was prevalent throughout. What I found interesting, though, was how quickly the heat subsided. It didn’t last more than 20 or 30 seconds after each bite. The steak was the same nib-like meat they use in the delightful Jalapeño Steak & Cheese variety, which I sadly cannot find anywhere around here anymore. In fact, this was reminiscent of that, though it’s missing the cheese sauce, which is a shame. And there didn’t seem to be as much steak. And this had a green chili that mostly just blended in. So, okay, I guess it’s not much like the Jalapeño Steak & Cheese at all. Nor is it good.

Spicy Garlic Chicken & Bacon

At least this one tried something different? Although I didn’t really get much heat from this — it was a 2 out of 10 on their arbitrary Hot Ones scale — it had the most nuance, mostly due to a mild smoky component, though I don’t know if this came from the chicken, the bacon, or the garlic sauce. (For what it’s worth, there were no discernible pieces of bacon, and the chicken’s prevalence was about as impressive as the sausage and pepperoni inclusion on that version.) This was the winner of the bunch — not that that’s saying much.

Purchased Price: $2.98 each
Purchased at: Hy-Vee
Rating: 3 out of 10 (Pepperoni and Sausage), 4 out of 10 (Green Chili Cheesesteak), 5 out of 10 (Garlic Chicken and Bacon)
Nutrition Facts: Pepperoni & Sausage – 290 calories, 13 grams of fat, 6 grams of saturated fat, 20 milligrams of cholesterol, 790 milligrams of sodium, 37 grams of carbohydrates, 2 grams of fiber, 4 grams of sugar, and 9 grams of protein. Green Chili Cheesesteak – 280 calories, 11 grams of fat, 5 grams of saturated fat, 15 milligrams of cholesterol, 700 milligrams of sodium, 38 grams of carbohydrates, 1 gram of fiber, 4 grams of sugar, and 8 grams of protein. Garlic Chicken & Bacon – 280 calories, 10 grams of fat, 4.5 grams of saturated fat, 20 milligrams of cholesterol, 760 milligrams of sodium, 38 grams of carbohydrates, 1 gram of fiber, 4 grams of sugar, 10 grams of protein.

Food trucks are all the rage these days. (Or, you know, they were like, a couple of years ago. Tell you what—go back in time a couple of years, read this review, and vigorously nod your head at my lede. Thanks.)

In fact, there’s a good chance you’re probably eating at a food truck this very instant. So am I. But while your Food Truck Experience likely involves artisanally crafted meatballs or, say, some sort of Cajun-Korean fusion sandwich, mine was a Hot Pocket.

You know, Hot Pockets.

Bastion of the down-trodden. Savior of the late night drunkard.

Like food trucks, Hot Pockets were once a cool, exciting happening; but that era went out with the Sega, Reebok Pumps and, SNL being water-cooler conversation. Where once stood a delightful, microwavable rectangle of deliciousness now sits a flaccid box of mediocre ingredients and un-melted cheeses.

Hot Pockets, how I miss thee.

But like your Milli Vanilli cassette and your Hyper-Color shirt, there is a time and place for the HP. A quick-fire lunch. A late night when you’re legally too drunk to make it to Taco Bell. A bizarre occurrence where you’re angry at your colon. These are all prime examples of when one SHOULD pull open the plastic, insert the meat-chunk into the crisping sleeve, and prepare to wreck your toilet.

If you’re doing that, though, be wise. The optimal Hot Pockets flavors rank as such: 1) 4 Meat & 4 Cheese Pizza 2) Beef Taco 3) BBQ Recipe Beef (lol at that name, by the way—“recipe.” What??) 4) Steak & Cheddar 5) Philly Steak 6) “Hickory” Ham & Cheese 7) Meatballs & Mozzarella 8) Any of the “Breakfast” Pockets.

This new Pocket—the one I had, apparently “inspired” by a food truck—would be like, 63rd on the list.

According to the box, it was engineered in conjunction with “Komodo Food Truck” which stands for “Dangerously Good Food” and “a gourmet experience like no other.”

Per my Google searching, “Komodo Food Truck” is “a real thing,” but good lord, I’m not sure how they’d ever be okay with such a lackluster representation of their brand. (Oh, well, money.)

This thing was garbage, plain and simple. Oh sure, it looked fine from the outside—normal-ass Pocket proceedings. Inside, however, lurked an adventurous mush that appeared to be some sort of miser’s answer to beef stew. There were carrots — lots of them — and a few disingenuous peas, and some brown paste. I saw a few errant specks of “angus beef” but that seriously could’ve been my imagination. Because I didn’t taste them.

Instead, I tasted sweet, crunchy carrots and a dull hint of heat (the box brags that there are jalapenos involved). Point being, this thing tasted like a warm mass of microwaved newspaper that your grandmother spit out her mostly-eaten piece of grape hard candy into. It was grotesquely sugary and there was but a singular beef to be found.

And really, is that what we want in a Hot Pocket?

Because I thought we demanded better.

But maybe that’s today’s thinking, really. This…entitlement. Maybe I’m viewing this through the lens of a modern man who knows that Milli Vanilli was a grand disappointment, that Pumps won’t make me a better basketball player, and that SNL maybe hasn’t been funny ever. (Or, for arguments sake, it’s funnier than ever and the era we fondly remember was actually mostly pretty bad, save a handful of sketches.)

Anyway, don’t buy this Hot Pocket if you see it loitering. Holy shit, it’s bad and you’ll regret it.

(Nutrition Facts – 1 Pocket – 290 calories, 110 calories from fat, 12 grams of fat, 6 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 10 milligrams of cholesterol, 500 milligrams of sodium, 40 grams of carbohydrates, 1 gram of fiber, 6 grams of sugar, and 5 grams of protein.)

Purchased Price: $2.00 (on sale)
Size: 2 sandwiches
Purchased at: Hy-Vee
Rating: 2 out of 10
Pros: Um, nostalgia? Cheap. Sega Genesis.
Cons: Microwaved awfulness. 63rd best Hot Pocket. Grandma’s hard candy. Carrot City.

When I was a kid, my mom chose not to feed us Hot Pockets. With tears in my eyes and hunger in my stomach, I spent many lunchtimes watching my classmates shove pepperoni-filled pastries into their pudgy little faces.

But now I’m an adult, and I’ve sworn to eat as many Hot Pockets as I want. This is America, dammit. As a citizen of this beautiful country, it is my duty to engorge myself with meat-filled freezer pies to my heart’s content. Don’t believe me? Go read the Bill of Rights. Freedom of Meats, y’all.

Exercising my rights as an American citizen, I decided to visit my local Hot Pocket Palace, known more colloquially as Walmart. I soon realized I was unsure of where to find Hot Pockets in this supermarket. To my surprise, they were not located in the same aisle as diapers. (Jim Gaffigan, eat your heart out.)

I eventually made it home with a package of Hot Pockets Limited Edition Chicken Pot Pie. According the front of the box, each Hot Pocket contains white meat chicken, carrots, peas, onions, and celery. According to the back of the box, it also contains many complex-sounding ingredients that could easily trip up the finalists in a second grade spelling bee: “Timmy, your word is sodium stearoyl lactylate. What’s that? Use it in a sentence? My Hot Pocket contains sodium stearoyl lactylate.”

Even after using the included crisping sleeve, the Hot Pocket emerged from the microwave with a slightly rubbery, chewy crust. It tasted blandly of flour, with not enough buttery flavor. The oven provided better results, yielding a more flaky, crispy crust that drew attention away from these flaws.

I must admit, I had pretty high expectations for this crust after hearing Snoop Dogg sing its praises in that bizarre Hot Pockets commercial from a few years back. That video deserved a Grammy, or at least a Nobel Peace Prize. I even keep the MP3 on my iPod for when I work out at the gym. Ever try getting your swole on while Snoop busts a rhyme about beef and cheese? That shit’s a natural muscle enhancer.

Breathing in the unmistakable scent of freshly-baked chicken pot pie, I was eager to take my first bite. After repeatedly scorching the roof of my mouth on the Hot Pocket’s superheated innards, I was finally able to taste the filling.

Compared to the filling in frozen pot pies I’ve tasted in the past, the Hot Pocket’s filling seems less creamy. Its flavor comes primarily from the chicken, which doesn’t feel rubbery or unnatural in texture, but tastes over-seasoned with a pre-packaged meat vibe. Every once in a while, I experienced a burst of pea flavor, but the carrots, onions, and celery seemed lost in the sea of pie filling. In addition, several spots inside the pocket were emptier than expected; the pastry could have used a bit more filling.

This Chicken Pot Pie Hot Pocket leaves something to be desired, and feels more like a savory pie-flavored Toaster Strudel than a bonafide pot pie. At only a few cents over two dollars, they seem like a steal, but I have no desire to purchase another box.

Well, at least I can cross something off my bucket list:

1. Write 500 words about a Hot Pocket
2. Eat a Hot Pocket with Kate Upton
3. Watch Harry and the Hendersons without crying
4. Finish writing my bucket list

Kate, if you’re reading this, I’ve got a box of pepperoni Hot Pockets with your name on it.

(Nutrition Facts – 1 Hot Pocket – 240 calories, 90 calories from fat, 10 grams of total fat, 5 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 10 milligrams of cholesterol, 480 milligrams of sodium, 30 grams of total carbohydrates, 1 gram of dietary fiber, 3 grams of sugar, and 8 grams of protein..)

Item: Limited Edition Chicken Pot Pie Hot Pockets
Purchased Price: $2.18
Size: 2 sandwiches
Purchased at: Walmart
Rating: 5 out of 10
Pros: Crust is flaky, crispy when cooked in oven. Chicken doesn’t feel rubbery. Strong chicken flavor. Freedom of Meats. The twisted satisfaction I feel when sabotaging second grade spelling bees.
Cons: Crust is bland, rubbery when cooked in microwave. Chicken feels over-seasoned. Chicken and peas are the only noticeable fillings. Emptier than expected. The looks people give me when I’m jamming out to Snoop Dogg’s song about Hot Pockets.