Tag: Pop-Tarts

If I were to list my top 20 favorite products of all time, there would be only one toaster pastry and it would be Frosted Dutch Apple Pop-Tarts.

Oh, you haven’t heard of them?

Well, they were around when Pop-Tarts options were much simpler, occupied very little shelf space, and almost all of them were actually tart. But, apparently, Frosted Dutch Apple Pop-Tarts didn’t sell well and were discontinued.

When they disappeared from shelves, I had to settle for the pigs slop known as Frosted Strawberry and Frosted Blueberry Pop-Tarts. And the more I stuffed down as part of my complete breakfast, the more upset and depressed I got about not having Dutch Apple Pop-Tarts in my life.

So I did what any middle school child with a penchant for writing would do. I wrote a letter to Kellogg’s, which went something like this:

Dear Kellogg’s,

Why did you kill the frosted apple pop tarts? After I wake up my mommy puts one in the toaster for me. I ask her if I can have two but she says no cause I’ll get fat. I told her I’m already fat, but she didn’t give me two. See I like them so much that I want to eat two. I like the jelly part of the pop tart, it doesn’t taste like the red apples my mommy feeds me to make me skinny, but it taste good. Please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please make frosted apple pop tarts again. I said please a lot, so that means you have to give me what I want, because when I say please a lot to my mommy she gives me what I want except when I ask for two pop tarts.

Thank you.

Despite the excessive pleases in my letter, Kellogg’s didn’t bring back Dutch Apple Pop-Tarts. Although, now that I think about it, Kellogg’s probably didn’t get my letter because, if I remember correctly, I put an Easter Seal on the envelope, thinking it was a postage stamp and I didn’t put a return address. However, these new Limited Edition Frosted Apple Cinnamon Muffin Pop-Tarts come close to replacing my beloved toaster pastries from the 1980s.

Since the Dutch Apple Pop-Tarts’ demise, there have been several apple-flavored Pop-Tarts, like Apple Strudel Pop-Tarts, Apple Pie Pop-Tarts, Apple Cinnamon Pop-Tarts, but none of them have hit me with a wave of nostalgia that these Limited Edition Frosted Apple Cinnamon Muffin Pop-Tarts have.

Well, to be more precise, it’s the delicious apple pie-ish filling that takes me back to a time when I would look through the Sears Wish Book catalog, circle the toys I knew my parents couldn’t afford, and then laugh at the horrible Christmas sweaters being sold. Sure, the filling’s brown color reminds me of browning apples that have been exposed to oxygen for too long, but it’s so wonderfully sweet and tasty.

While these new Pop-Tarts may taste like Frosted Dutch Apple Pop-Tarts, there are a few major visual differences. The Pop-Tarts from my childhood were frosted almost completely from bow to stern (yes, I believe that is the proper way to address the front and rear of a Pop-Tart), but these Frosted Apple Cinnamon Muffin Pop-Tarts are only drizzled with frosting. Lame. But like the Oatmeal Delights Pop-Tarts we reviewed, they have wonderful sweet and crunchy crumbles on top which kind of make up for the lack of frosting.

If you do find yourself purchasing a box of these Pop-Tarts, don’t be lazy and eat them straight out of the shiny foil wrapper. Take the time to toast them and you’ll be rewarded with a much tastier experience.

And if you’re a child of the 80s who loved Frosted Dutch Apple Pop-Tarts as much as I did, the tasty apple, cinnamon, and sugar gloop in the Frosted Apple Cinnamon Muffin Pop-Tarts will be the flux capacitor that takes your taste buds back in time.

(Nutrition Facts – 1 pastry – 200 calories, 50 calories from fat, 5 grams of fat, 2 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 2 grams of polyunsaturated fat, 1 gram of monounsaturated fat, 0 milligrams of cholesterol, 170 milligrams of sodium, 36 grams of carbohydrates, less than 1 gram of fiber, 14 grams of sugar, 2 grams of protein, and a few vitamins and minerals.)

Item: Limited Edition Frosted Apple Cinnamon Muffin Pop-Tarts
Purchased Price: $1.98
Size: 8 toaster pastries
Purchased at: Walmart
Rating: 9 out of 10
Pros: Sooo good. Reminds me of Frosted Dutch Apple Pop-Tarts. Delicious apple pie-ish filling. Sugary crumbles on top were wonderful. Awesome when toasted. Good when not toasted. Sears Wish Book.
Cons: Only drizzles of frosting. Limited edition. Using Easter Seals as postage stamps. Not getting what I want with a lot of pleases.

I’m going to guess that not everyone reading this 1) spent their adolescent years in the early to mid ’90s, and 2) read superhero comics.

But that’s okay.

(Statistically, you’re almost certainly better off for it.)

All you need to know is this: in the early ’90s, comic book publishers went absolutely, 100 percent bugfuck insane. Comics were selling like crazy, movies and cartoons had people interested in the characters, and everyone believed their mint copy of X-Force #1 was going to make them fabulously wealthy someday, whereas its primary use today is to prop up uneven table legs at comic stores everywhere.

To keep the cash train running, publishers came up with a ridiculous variety of gimmicks to entice you to buy their wares. They did variant covers. Holographic covers. Glow-in-the-dark covers. Photo covers. Silent issues. Sideways issues. Issues with nothing but splash pages. Superman died. Batman crippled. Green Lantern genocidal. Spider-Man wearing armor. One comic writer, upon dying, had his ashes mixed into the ink for the printing of a trade paperback he had written. It was madness.

(Except the last one, that was tight. Miss ya, Grue!)

Why do I bring this up? Because I increasingly get that same “’90s comics” vibe when I think about Pop-Tarts. They started out as a nice, simple breakfast pastry for kids. Eventually came new flavors, nothing wrong with that. But then they just started throwing shit at the wall to see what stuck.

We got Pop-Tarts clearly designed for dessert, not breakfast. We got seasonal Pop-Tarts with winter images printed on them. We got Wild! Pop-Tarts. And even Pop-Tarts that let you show your school spirit. And now? Well, now we’ve got a sub-brand of Pop-Tarts called Oatmeal Delights with two varieties, Frosted Strawberry and Frosted Mapley Brown Sugar; we’ll be looking at the latter. I suspect we’re supposed to think “mapley” is just a cute stylistic tic, but I’m interpreting it in more of the “vaguely reminiscent of maple” way. Your mileage may vary.

I’m not going to lie — the box itself is almost worth the purchase. There’s just so much going on there. On the front, nearly every image and word is set at an angle like you’re eating M.C. Escher’s own toaster pastries. I thought Pop-Tarts had long ago accepted they were never going to be the healthy option, yet this package can’t stop trying to convince me it’s nutritious, touting its 8 vitamins and minerals, made from whole grain, no high fructose corn syrup, no trans fat, plenty of calcium and B vitamins, and a good source of fiber.

(Spoiler: the calories and total fat are not ridiculous, but still not what anyone would mistake for “healthy.”)

The back of the box avows that each pastry contains the perfect amount of icing, which I’m calling bullshit on because “perfect” is a strong word and pride goeth before the icing fall, or whatever. There’s also one of those barcodes you can scan with your smartphone to learn more info, although I didn’t because I was crushing it on Angry Birds and you’ve really gotta ride that streak out.

TL;DR. Just… how do they taste? Not quite how I was expecting, but still pretty good. The outer layer is crispy, with cinnamon oat crumbles liberally coating it and curvy drizzles of icing. The inside filling is definitely gooey and tastes of brown sugar and maple (“mapley,” if you will), although I can’t say it particularly screams oatmeal. That’s not a criticism per se, it’s just that these could easily be called Maple Brown Sugar Pop-Tarts with no mention of oatmeal and you wouldn’t question it.

Still, the flavor did bring me back to college, stealing instant oatmeal packets from the dining hall so I’d have something to eat at 11:00 PM when it was time to start that term paper. Good times, good times. Also, there’s a reasonable amount of filling, slightly less so on each of the ends, as per usual.

All told, the brown sugar crumbles, icing, and maple filling add up to an appealing whole. Not overflowing with sheer unadulterated flavor perhaps, but a solid effort that you can maybe trick your brain into thinking is healthy if you work at it. Much like holographic covers and sideways issues, these probably won’t be around for long, so try some while you can!

(Nutrition Facts – 1 pastry – 200 calories, 45 calories from fat, 5 grams of fat, 1.5 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 2 grams of polyunsaturated fat, 1 gram of monounsaturated fat, 0 milligrams of cholesterol, 200 milligrams of sodium, 35 grams of carbohydrates, 3 grams of fiber, 15(!) grams of sugar, 2 grams of protein.)

Item: Kellogg’s Oatmeal Delights Frosted Mapley Brown Sugar Pop-Tarts
Purchased Price: $1.98
Size: 8 toaster pastries
Purchased at: Walmart
Rating: 7 out of 10
Pros: Cinnamon oat crumbles both look and taste appealing. Box isn’t attractive, but crammed with so much that you’ll buy it just to have something to read on the train. The maple(y) taste was good, though could have been more pronounced. Perhaps slightly better for you than regular Pop-Tarts. Pretty cheap. The ’80s comic industry.
Cons: The ’90s comic industry. Might’ve benefited from a little more oatmeal crammed in there. At this rate, TIB will soon become an all-Pop-Tarts review blog, instead of just a mostly-Pop-Tarts review blog. Kinda dull to look at — white icing would’ve offset that a little.

The festival: a landmark of summertime reinforcing the laws of physics with every flash-flinging ride you wind past, and, while all the balloon animals and fluffy teddy bears make it seem like a locale reserved for docile featherweights, don’t be fooled: festivals are not for the thin-skinned.

Indeed, danger lurks behind every fried goodie and clinkity-clink coaster that threatens to hurl your body straight over the Kansas plains. That is part of what makes the festival so exciting: the subliminal notion that you could die at any moment.

Yes, dear venturers, the festival is a place where only the bold dare step, and these Festival Fun Frosted Vanilla I-Scream Cone Pop-Tarts are no different. These treats are not for the faint of heart. If you cower at the Kellogg, find yourself trembling at the thought of being sucked into a sugary shadow, then shoo! Be off with ye, oh crybabies! Oh sippers of chamomile tea! May you live a long and boring life.

Now that I have narrowed you down to the brave lunatics before me, quick! To the toaster!

Ah, yes, the toaster. The very appliance inspiring that 1987 champion of childhood animation, The Brave Little Toaster. It was there that I came to understand the value of endurance and grasped the reality that the car crusher in the junkyard is really alive, has googly eyes, and wants to eat my kitchen tools. Most importantly, I learned that small appliances can do amazing feats, and, while my toaster may not be able to fling itself over a mountain, it can sure transform a Pop-Tart, so I am going to toast this bugger on medium-low.

While we await our toaster pastry’s toasted goodness, let us observe a moment of silence to reflect on the values taught to us by The Brave Little Toaster.

(…I hope you are being silent right now, brave venturer…)

Okay! Moment of reflection complete!

And thus, here we have the magic of the toasted I-Scream Pop-Tart in all its rectangle glory.

Inside the crust rests the vanilla filling, which is ample in quantity. While it is meant to mimic the likes of vanilla ice cream, it maintains more of a gooey marshmallow consistency and holds a taste similar to that of Betty Crocker vanilla icing, which makes it hard to not smile when consuming. This flavor would threaten to overwhelm my taste buds if it were not for the milk-chocolatey icing, which adds a nice splash of cocoa flavor that both juxtaposes (word of the day) and balances the vanilla.

The pastry crust is crunchy and cracker-like without a distinguishing taste, acting more like a textural canvas to contrast the oozy vanilla filling. My first thought was that it would have been nice to shake up the crust and perhaps made it thin and crisp like a waffle cone, yet that would then pose the question: is it still be a Pop-Tart without the signature thick crust? Or does it morph into a completely different beast? A pastry with a new identity? I don’t know, but I could foresee such a conundrum causing an existential crisis amongst the community of toaster pastries. Thank you, Pop-Tarts, for tactfully avoiding such a catastrophe of pastry identity by keeping the crust the same.

And there are sprinkles! Rainbow sprinkles! The sprinkles are arranged on the frosting with all the logic of a tourist’s map, which would explain why so many tourists get lost every year (a growing problem in many cities). While it may not work for tourists’ maps, the random sprinkling of rainbow happiness adds a bit of visual joy, and I discovered that they don’t burn when you put them in the toaster, a question I’d never wondered, but am relieved to find out.

Like all Pop-Tarts of yore, it is quite sweet and would be better suited for the evening snack than the hearty breakfast. The list of ingredients is a lengthy one, predominantly of the sugar variety. I was a bit disheartened to discover that Pop-Tarts are still mingling around with the hydrogenated oil crowd, but hey, nothing’s perfect, and they do pack a walloping eight vitamins and minerals in there somewhere.

If there’s one final lesson to glean from The Brave Little Toaster, it’s that friendship is magic. Since there are two to a Pop-Tart package, these toaster pastries inspire sharing and will grant you friends beyond the realm Little Toaster’s town could’ve ever imagined, so rip open that aluminum package and share with a pal, or, since these are “I-Scream” Pop-Tarts, haul out the pint of Ben and Jerry’s and smoosh them into an ice cream sandwich.

In the midst of the lights and flashes and winky-dink rides, festivals celebrate the spirit of straightforward innovation, and these Festival Fun Frosted Vanilla I-Scream Pop-Tarts embody that very spirit. While they’re admittedly not revolutionary to the Pop-Tart world, they dare to be simple, a risk perhaps more valiant than going with the wispy trends of high-end vanilla beans and exclusive Verona chocolates. In the midst of an ever-expanding food empire, Pop-Tarts remain humble and they honor that identity here in the form of a chocolate-vanilla square, and that, in and of itself, is worthy of celebration. So break out the toasters, brave venturers, and celebrate.

(Nutrition Facts – 1 pastry – 190 calories, 4 grams of fat, 1.5 grams of saturated fat, 1.5 grams of polyunsaturated fat, 1 gram of monounsaturated fat, 0 milligrams of cholesterol, 220 milligrams of sodium, 37 grams of carbohydrates, less than 1 gram of dietary fiber, 16 grams of sugar, and 2 grams of protein.)

Item: Limited Edition Frosted Vanilla I-Scream Cone Pop-Tarts
Purchased Price: $2.49
Size: 14.1 ounces/8 pastries
Purchased at: Target
Rating: 7 out of 10
Pros: Lots of chocolate icing. Variety of textures. Sprinkles. Humility. Eight vitamins and minerals. The hope of a Ben and Jerry’s ice cream sandwich. The Brave Little Toaster.. Friendship is magic.
Cons: Hydrogenated oils. Vanilla frosting filling in the guise of ice cream. The threat of overwhelming vanilla flavor. Toaster pastry existential crisis. Nightmares of evil junkyard car crushers.

Pop-Tarts are just friggin’ weird. They resemble a tart as much as I look like actor Tom Cruise, or even pre/post-drug fiend Tom Sizemore. The pastry is exactly two ninety degree angles that form an exact rectangle scarier than the black monolith in Kubrick’s classic. Instead of being filled with stars, Dave, it is filled with jam, calories, carbohydrates and sodium. The frosting is shiny like nail polish and is harder than fondant. So yes, this is not health food but its shape does scream convenience.

You won’t find Pop-Tarts in a bakery. When you give them to a child, you can’t help but make the “sorry face.” All the cool kids have the Toaster Strudels but Pop-Tarts have persevered through all of it. These ubiquitous things have remained a part of our existence and I am sure when the Sun starts expanding in its death, the waters on Earth have dried up, all mammals have become pieces of tasty jerky, those Pop-Tarts are still going to survive. I know so.

And as weird as they are, like Tom Sizemore and his old drug habit, I have a strong compulsion to buy any new flavor of Pop-Tarts I see. I just have to. I don’t care if I get mostly disappointed when I eat them. I just need to have them now. It’s the same exact feeling I get when I buy supermarket sushi or when I watch German art films.

I habitually stop by the Pop-Tarts section when I go to down the cereal aisle. To my delight, I saw a box of Wildlicious Wild! Fruit Fusion Pop-Tarts. With a title like that, I was expecting this to rival the KY Jelly Fire and Ice. I could blame The Impulsive Buy and say I bought these because I am obligated to review them. In truth, I would have bought them anyway because I just need to.

From gumdrops to Sunkist, I love all things orange flavored. The fact there is an orange pictured amongst the fruits pictured on the box will probably be the closest thing I will ever get to a marmalade Pop-Tart. To be specific, there is a strawberry and cherry pictured as well. I’m assuming this is the fruit fusion which doesn’t seem that wild but it’s Pop-Tarts we’re talking about here.

Amusing to me, the only fruits listed in the ingredients are cherries and apples. Even more fascinating are the instructions on how to toast your goodies. I’m not sure what it says about its target audience. They even have a diagram to emphasize how to toast these things. More depressing is what does this say about me? I had to toast another because I burned my first pastry.

I normally eat these untoasted but I will review these Pop-Tarts in both the raw and the cooked form.

Unsheathing the treat out of its silver wrapper, it was a bit comical to me how vibrant the colors of the frosting were. It looked like someone slathered mustard on it and then zig zagged ketchup (in true 1950’s kitsch) all over the tart. This thing could double as Jem’s truly outrageous maxi-pad.

In the simplest form, without toasting, the crust is dry as expected. The frosting is the same vague sweet flavor that can be found on all Pop-Tarts with that unnatural sugar shell. The bite is surprisingly a bit tart and not overly sweet. I like it because it is not an abundance of immediate sugar that will numb your tongue.

The jam itself has a strong cherry flavor but I’m not sure if it overwhelmed the orange and strawberry. Not really a surprise since they aren’t listed in the ingredients. I ended up taking a couple more bites and only the tart cherry jam shines through. That is kind of disappointing but the fact that this (let’s face it, these things are really big cookies) is not as sweet as the other flavors is a plus.

Toasted, it smells like baked sugar but not in a welcoming bakery way. It’s just baked sugar. I hate that smell which is why I never toast them, but I’m also lazy. Texture wise, the frosting adds a nice crispness and the jam is even more intense. The taste is improved but not enough for me to bother toasting these things. I’m making a “lazy face” here.

Let’s be honest and come to an agreement that nobody really craves these things. There are better ways to spend 200 calories and the sodium is high enough to offset my blood pressure meds. I can’t tell you how many unfinished boxes of Pop-Tarts I have chucked out. I liked this one despite the repulsive color frosting but will probably not finish the box.

I would still make the “sorry face” if I had to give one to my little niece or any other kids looking for a snack. Yet, I (in a non-committal way) would eat these again as I made the “yeah, I know” face. So yeah reader, I know.

(Nutrition Facts – 1 pastry – 200 calories, 5 grams of fat, 1.5 grams of Saturated fat, 2 grams if Polyunsaturated fat, 1 gram of monounsaturated fat, 0 mg of cholesterol, 170 mg of sodium, 36 grams of carbohydrates, less than one gram of dietary fiber, 15 grams of sugar, and 2 grams of protein)

Item: Kellogg’s Wildlicious Wild! Fruit Fusion Pop-Tarts
Price: $1.99
Size: 14.1 ounces/8 toaster pastries
Purchased: Publix
Rating: 6 out of 10
Pros: The tart sweetness is a nice change. Easy to hold. Tom Sizemore in Heat. Tom Cruise in Collateral (Michael Mann is the man). Making faces. If you love cherry, you cannot go wrong. Toasting it has a nice texture. 2001: A Space Odyssey.
Cons: No orange flavor. Easy to burn if you’re a dummy like me. Crust is dry but that’s to be expected. Wild frosting does nothing for the Pop-Tart. The color is a bit gross looking. Tom Sizemore in that sex video. Tom Cruise in MI:2. Loaded with sodium, unless you love sodium! 2010: The Year We Make Contact.