Tag: Taco Bell

In 2012, arguably, the most important fast food creation of the past twenty years hit our national gullet, the Doritos Locos Taco, available in Nacho Cheese and, soon after, Cool Ranch. Only the tastiest thinkers at Taco Bell could have come up with them, and, in return, a hungry America turned these tacos into a nationwide obsession.

I’m happy to say that I’m able to relive that minor passion with the recently released Taco Bell Flamin’ Hot Doritos Locos Taco. It’s a snack food that, with one burning bite, will take us back to those carefree times eight years ago when procuring a Locos Taco was the only pressing thing on our minds.

A daunting mix of the usual blend of seasoned ground beef, cheddar cheese, and cool lettuce, the star here is the crunchy taco itself: a full Doritos Locos shell covered in the fiery Flamin’ Hot powdery foodstuff. It’s a thick layer that’ll leave even the most casual of taco noshers licking their fingertips seductively just to catch every burning bit.

With a bit of salt to tease the coming heat, though flimsy, the shell truly is another one of Taco Bell’s orchestral delights. It fills the cheeks with an uncompromising heat that actually improves the somewhat rote innards. Take each bite slowly and with meaning to catch the exact moment when it goes from merely hot to Flamin’ Hot.

It’s a momentary slap of fast food sense upside the head, one that is much needed these days.

And while, unlike the loved Cool Ranch and beloved Nacho Cheese varieties, it might be a bit difficult to down more than two of these at a time, as the Flamin’ Hot variety is far more of an unholy expert’s taco. It’s one for the practiced professional that needs this heat in their life, perhaps with a dash of Diablo sauce for tongue-searing reimbursement.

Purchased Price: $1.89
Size: N/A
Rating: 9 out of 10
Nutrition Facts: 170 calories, 10 grams of fat, 3.5 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 25 milligrams of cholesterol, 380 milligrams of sodium, 13 grams of carbohydrates, 3 gram of fiber, less than 1 gram of sugar, and 8 grams of protein.

The lord God Almighty, sitting on his golden throne in all of his wisdom and glory, gave us the ultimately confusing gift of the Holy Trinity: the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost. Running a close second, however, is Taco Bell’s latest (and less confounding) present to humanity, the graciously heaven-sent Triplelupa.

A righteous blessing of three flavor favorites, the Triplelupa is a trio of small Chalupas connected into one, each tear-away pocket containing a taste sensation that we’ve all come to know and love over these many years: trademarked nacho cheese, creamy chipotle sauce, and, last but certainly not least, a glorious combination of the two.

With the Chalupa being arguably the finest offering on Taco Bell’s menu, the Triplelupa is an embarrassment of riches that anyone should be thankful for. It starts with the custom fried outer shell that’s thick yet soft with a hidden crunch that always makes this precious snack into a bountiful meal.

But, as you can guess, the filling is truly where it’s at, starting with its world-famous nacho cheese. As expected, the yellow queso combines well with the seasoned meat, lettuce, tomato, and three-cheese blend, crafting near-perfection in two or three bites for this first section.

Additionally, the second nosh with the chipotle sauce does a sanctified job of sending my soul to sing with the angels. The creamy kick of the pepper-infused condiment gives this middle portion a well-deserved morning mass to my tastebuds.

That being said, it’s in this third and final helping where the grand plan of Taco Bell’s Mexican majesty shows itself to scores of hungry patrons just waiting for a sign of extreme essence. Like a miracle, the combined efforts of both the nacho cheese and the chipotle sauce create an unheard and unseen testament to the Triplelupa, crafting a liquid blanket that makes everything feel at peace.

It’s such a delightful combination, I would be remiss if I didn’t admit that I licked the leftover refuse from the wrapper, recycling the lettuce and sauces that spilled out like a human compactor. If it wasn’t raining down so hard right now, I would have desperately walked back to my Taco Bell to order another one of these Triplelupas – maybe two — for my own triumvirate of taste.

Per usual, this thinking outside the bun mentality that birthed the Triplelupa is a tour de sauce, a reckoning and a revelation of Biblical proportions. I urge you and everyone you know to pay your taco tithe of $3.69 and follow the way of this edible trinity. Get thee to a Bell!

Purchased Price: $3.69
Size: N/A
Rating: 10 out of 10
Nutrition Facts: 610 calories, 35 grams of fat, 8 grams of saturated fat, 50 milligrams of cholesterol, 1110 milligrams of sodium, 52 grams of carbohydrates, 7 grams of fiber, 5 grams of sugar, and 22 grams of protein.

For the most part, I like fries about as much as any other typical fast food fan probably does. But, you know, even I have to begrudgingly admit that maybe it’s time to take a break from them and turn that fryer off for a few months.

Of course, just as I think that those beautiful bastards at Taco Bell’s research and development labs go and craft this new “Mexico on the Hudson” flavor for all the fry-eaters of the world to not only enjoy, but reflect on.

With the hard-charging heat of New York’s Buffalo sauce spilling forth on the stampeding herd of Taco Bell’s famous fries — and its companion burrito, natch — it’s such a tangy stroke of corporate genius you have to wonder why it hasn’t happened before, causing a culture clash that is far more related, like distant cousins, than previously thought.

Outright, the clear-cut “winner winner, Buffalo chicken dinner” is the fantastic Buffalo Chicken Nacho Fries. It comes with a nice portion of shredded chicken and the usual accouterments, such as pico de gallo, reduced fat sour cream, and nacho cheese sauce over Taco Bell’s seasoned fries. But it’s the liberal dowsing of Buffalo sauce that gives the platter a mostly loving kick in the metaphorical junk.

It was definitely a bit of culinary violence that the Bell needed, especially before its fries became a little too staid for their own good —- something I’m sure we all can agree on. That being said, the next time I order these, I’d love to add a squirt or two of the Spicy Ranch, perhaps for a bit of heated resistance.

With that said, the sauce isn’t as powerful in the Buffalo Chicken Nacho Fries Burrito, but that’s not to say it’s entirely bad either. It’s just…different.

While it could’ve been a fluke in my home Bell’s kitchen, my burrito, loaded with the same items as the fries but wrapped in a loose tortilla, must have had far less of the Buffalo sauce because it wasn’t as “in your face” as the fries.

It still works well though, with the scant Buffalo sauce instead enhancing the burrito and its taste instead of utterly dominating it. I can understand if people would disagree with me about this, but, especially after the stomach-enflaming fires of the fries, that was a somewhat cooling snack, a coda on the whole Buffalo sauce phenomenon.

Who knew it would be Taco Bell, of all places, to deliver it.

Purchased Price: $2.99 each
Size: N/A
Rating: 8 out of 10
Nutrition Facts: Buffalo Chicken Nacho Fries – 490 calories, 32 grams of fat, 6 grams of saturated fat, 55 milligrams of cholesterol, 1080 milligrams of sodium, 40 grams of carbohydrates, 5 grams of fiber, 3 grams of sugar, and 12 grams of protein. Buffalo Chicken Nacho Fries Burrito – 510 calories, 26 grams of fat, 7 grams of saturated fat, 50 milligrams of cholesterol, 1190 milligrams of sodium, 53 grams of carbohydrates, 5 grams of fiber, 4 grams of sugar, and 16 grams of protein.

The Taco Bell that’s closest to my house is a very special one: it always has the special test items that only very special people in very special cities get to taste, well before the less-special general public even hears about them. This month’s taste treat is the ultimately forbidding Taco Bell Forbidden Melt Taco.

It features an edible taco holder made from the storm clouds of a thousand children’s tears — actually, it’s just a fried blue corn tortilla shell. At first glance, it looks badly burnt and overcooked, but images can be deceiving. This taco shell, while nowhere near the genius of the Toasted Cheddar Chalupa, still makes a delicious enough mark on the ever-changing and always evolving Taco Bell menu.

But, to this hungry Chicano, what truly makes the Forbidden Melt even better is the titular “melted” part inside the taco shell. Beyond the zesty meat, cool reduced-fat sour cream, iceberg lettuce, and shards of cheese is what has to be a good ladle’s worth of Taco Bell’s patented nacho cheese, poured along the edible fault-line, definitely making it even more verboten.

The main problem — and this, sadly, is usually an issue with many Taco Bell products — is that while the molten cheese is a bright yellow cream dream come true, after a few minutes of sitting in the bag, the belly of this blue corn beast swells to a mostly soggy mess. The cheese sauce completely seeps through the specially-made taco shell.

The one tip I have to defeat this meat-loosening bulge? Take some time, try to relax, and enjoy the Taco Bell Forbidden Melt Taco fresh out of the fryer, while the outside is still a crispy lark and the inside a gooey mess. Instead of going through the drive-thru, how about setting up in the dining area, quietly learning to love this blue corn-based forbidden fruit Taco Bell menu item.

Purchased Price: $1.99
Size: N/A
Rating: 8 out of 10
Nutrition Facts: Unavailable.