Tag: Wendy’s

French toast occupies a nebulous space in the breakfast continuum. On the one side, you’ve got muffins, doughnuts, and pancakes as sweet breakfasts, then you have eggs, hash browns, and bacon/sausage over on the savory breakfast side. Then you have French toast in this kind of no-man’s-land, some kind of breakfast purgatory, where it’s sort of savory because of the egg flavor, but then you drown it in syrup, and it becomes sweet. Make up your mind, French toast!

Obviously, as a French toast skeptic, I had concerns going into Homestyle French Toast Sticks, the new breakfast item from Wendy’s. However, Wendy’s got around this identity crisis by frying the crap out of these things to the point where classifications like “sweet” and “savory” become lost in an oily confection that makes deep-fried Oreo cookies look healthy. Harsh words? Perhaps, but notice I did not say that I didn’t enjoy it.

According to Wendy’s, this new menu item “delivers a mouthful of flavor, striking the perfect texture balance of a soft custardy interior and crisp, golden-brown crust.” Okay, I will give them that: the texture contrast is really nice. The very deep-fried tasting sticks have lovely little caramelized edges that clash wonderfully with the lightly egg-flavored bread. However, texture and flavor are two different things, and flavor balance is where Wendy’s might have stumbled a little.

When I ordered these, Wendy’s staff told us to move aside from the drive-through line so they could make them to order. Now, I have faith in the Wendy’s work ethic, but I’m pretty sure this did not mean cracking eggs and cooking the sticks in the pan. They are likely fried to order, which is why the overall feeling of “fried” is so strong. Four or six piece sizes are available; I got the six because of course I got the six.

When I dipped my nose into the bag containing these little guys, as one does, the smell actually reminded me of carnival funnel cake, which is weird because I don’t think I’ve had funnel cake in a decade. These treats are a good size too, more like long wedges as opposed to sticks. When I bit into one, the decadent flavor of carbs fried in oil went to work on my tongue while my brain tried to remember that I was still looking for other flavors. There is an egg flavor in there, but it’s a little subtle; this likely does not taste like your grandma’s French toast because it’s just not eggy enough. When you dip these sticks into the syrup provided, the sweetness overrides everything, and the egg flavor is no longer discernible.

That said, these things are hella addictive. I had been planning to save the last strip for my husband, except I got lost in a kind of sugary breakfast haze and inhaled every single one. I was left looking at an empty plate with a few dots of syrup on it, wondering how I got here. It was quite enjoyable, but I think I’ve used up my allowance for fried foods for the rest of the month.

Purchased Price: $3.99
Size: 6 sticks
Rating: 8 out of 10
Nutrition Facts: 490 calories, 25 grams of fat, 5 grams of saturated fat, 175 milligrams of cholesterol, 550 milligrams of sodium, 50 grams of carbohydrates, 2 grams of fiber, 12 grams of sugar, and 16 grams of protein.

It’s the most anticipated new Wendy’s menu item since breakfast was unveiled! That’s right, folks. Wendy’s has a Strawberry Frosty.

Yup, it took over fifty years for the chain to add a Strawberry “shake” to its menu. Let that sink in.

Like breakfast, Wendy’s has always been pretty late to the desert game. Sure, the Chocolate Frosty has been a fast food staple for decades, but it didn’t even add Vanilla to the menu until 2006. Now, sixteen years later, Vanilla is getting the temporary boot during the big Strawberry rollout.

So, is it worth all the buzz?

I’d say, yeah… tentatively.

Actually, I’m not entirely sure.

I love a good Chocolate Frosty. I’ve always categorized it as its own entity – not quite a milkshake, but also not quite ice cream. It kinda exists between the two, and it has a texture all its own. The Strawberry Frosty I had just reminded me of a decent strawberry shake.

At no other time would I be disappointed slamming a “decent strawberry shake,” but I guess I expected a little more here. In what might seem like a huge nitpick, I actually think it was too creamy. Also, you’ll rarely hear me say this about anything like this, but I wish it was sweeter.

The Frosty tasted like Strawberry Nesquik, a childhood favorite, but it was as if they released something called “Strawberry Nesquik Lite.” Say you were mixing it yourself and only used 75% of the suggested amount of syrup. That’s where I landed on the flavor. That might be right up your alley, but I was mildly bored.

To be fair, Wendy’s is pushing the idea that it has the flavor profile of “freshly picked strawberries,” so it’s probably not supposed to be the super artificial sugar bomb I was anticipating.

Don’t get me wrong that would be just fine overall, but I also noted a very faint medicinal aftertaste. Did you ever have chewy Tums or Rolaids antacids that look like candy? I swear I tasted a similar faux fruit taste and the accompanying chalkiness, and that was all I could think with every spoonful.

It sounds like I’m ripping on it, but it wasn’t that bad. I think most people are gonna like it more than I did. If I had to rank it against the other Frosty flavors, it’d be third. If I had to rank it against (my vague memory of) fast food strawberry milkshakes, it would probably be last.

I loved the color. I loved the aroma. I semi-enjoyed the taste.

I didn’t get fries to dip, but it did a great job neutralizing the heat of my Spicy Nuggets, so I certainly wasn’t upset about my meal.

Overall, Wendy’s Strawberry Frosty is not a hit, but it’s also not a dud. It’s a “decent strawberry shake.” There’s a place on the menu for a decent strawberry shake. In fact, I think Wendy’s should bring Vanilla back so people can order a Neapolitan-style mix. I also think it should add toppings and try to make a McFlurry rival called… ready for this obvious gem? Wendy’s Blendies. Let’s chat, Wendy’s R&D.

Purchased Price: $1.89
Size: Small
Purchased at: Wendy’s
Rating: 5 out of 10
Nutrition Facts: 350 calories, 8 grams of fat, 0 gram of trans fat, 5 grams of saturated fat, 40 mg of cholesterol, 150 milligrams of sodium, 61 grams of total carbohydrates, 52 grams of sugars, 0 grams of fiber, 8 grams of protein.

I thought that the hardest part of eating Wendy’s Hot Honey Chicken Sandwich would be weathering the habanero hot honey (or saying its name three times fast). As it turns out, the actual hardest part was just getting to the honey.

Prying the top bun off to take a picture of the sandwich’s contents required some legitimate elbow grease, for which I was rewarded with an extremely strong aroma of pickles. I had known the sandwich would contain “pickle chips,” but honestly, I’d assumed that that was just a synonym for a couple of thinly-cut pickle slices, so I was pretty puzzled to discover a hearty heaping of what looked like straight-up potato chips, just a bit green (that’s more or less how they tasted, too). Delving into the “What’s on it” menu on Wendy’s website helpfully specified that these were actually “Crunchy Dill Chips” (as opposed to the more traditional experience of “Crinkle Cut Pickles”). Mystery solved, I sampled each of the other components in turn, a supporting cast consisting of:

“Premium bun”: Soft, airy, and inoffensive. Not immediately clear how it was different from the alternative option that the website has labeled “sandwich bun.”

Applewood smoked bacon: Thick and chewy, striking an impressive middle ground between too fatty and too burnt.

Pepper jack cheese: So creamy and mild that I mistook it for White American at first, though it finally left a whisper of peppery spice in its aftertaste.

Chicken: A typical breaded chicken breast (I opted for the “Classic” version of the sandwich, rather than “Spicy” or “Grilled”). Basically, one giant nugget.

And the titular hot honey?

My impression, frankly, was that it was difficult to locate, even after performing bun surgery. I expected the honey would be coating the chicken, so it took a while to realize that it was actually applied directly to the top bun, almost entirely obscured by pickle chips. On its own, the taste made a pleasant impact, with a spiciness that was noticeable but didn’t cross the line into painful, tempered as it was by a simultaneous rich sweetness.

Unfortunately, the sandwich as a whole ended up somehow tasting like less than the sum of its parts. The plump, juicy chicken dominated the experience both in terms of texture and taste. I guess it’s a positive sign that Wendy’s doesn’t skimp when it comes to meat, but you’d hope that the promising array of other ingredients would be way more prominent, and they simply did not deliver. After a few bites, I started to pick up on a bit of tanginess from the pickle chips and some sweetness from the honey (plus after swallowing, the roof of my mouth had a telltale tingle from the heat), but if I’d been taste testing this blind, I wouldn’t have even known the cheese and bacon were there.

Wendy’s also offers a dipping cup of hot honey that you can order as a side, so adding more might help the exciting-on-paper flavor to seriously shine. I did ultimately enjoy my meal, but that might just be because I really like basic chicken sandwiches. If you’re looking for something more exciting, this offering will probably not have you calling out, “Honey (Chicken Sandwich), I’m home!”

Purchased Price: $6.19
Size: N/A
Rating: 5 out of 10
Nutrition Facts: 700 calories, 31 grams of fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 8 grams of saturated fat, 95 milligrams of cholesterol, 2040 milligrams of sodium, 70 grams of total carbohydrates, 18 grams of total sugars, 2 grams of fiber, and 37 grams of protein.

Do you like cheese? No, I mean, do you really like cheese? I’m not talking to those of you who have been known to daintily nibble on a wedge of brie at a party or put a single slice of cheddar on your backyard burger. I’m speaking directly to those of you who are so mad at your arteries that you want to punish them at every possible turn. Do you dip your pizza’s cheese-stuffed crust into a tub of cheese sauce? Have you ever made a sandwich using grilled cheese sandwiches in place of sliced bread? Well then, you might be interested in Wendy’s new offering.

Wendy’s new Big Bacon Cheddar Cheeseburger is “a quarter pound of fresh, never frozen beef, covered in creamy cheddar cheese and bacon jam, topped with applewood smoked bacon, crispy onions, and a slice of American cheese, all on a pillow soft, toasted cheddar bun.” I mean… cheese, am I right? According to my calculations, you’ve got three entry points for cheese on this thing: in the “creamy cheddar cheese” sauce, as a rogue American slice on top of the meat, and melted into or on top of the bun.

My first thought before getting this burger was, “Will I ruin my shirt, my pants, or both when I eat this thing?” But here’s the shocking part — it was extremely tidy. Oh sure, when I first unwrapped it, I was confronted with a few stray fried onion strands and some crisped cheddar cheese that’d melted off of the bun and turned into a crunchy cheese pond, but overall, nothing else squirted or fell out. This was a one napkin affair.

And, truth be told, the neatness of the BBCC probably foreshadowed this burger’s biggest pitfall: it was dryyyyyy. Like a camelback-trek-across-the-Sahara dry. Like, kissing-your-grandmother’s-cheek dry. The creamy cheddar cheese and bacon jam components were both there, maybe? But the cheese wasn’t creamy (all I noticed were random shreds of damp, unmelted cheddar), and a tiny dollop of the jam was totally lost in the mix. The patty itself was dry. The fried onions? Same. The whole thing was very one-note. Okay, two-note. 1) Dry 2) Salty.

There was no flavor here of which to speak, only an arid mass of chewiness that felt more like a chore than a meal. For something being sold on its cheesiness, it was interesting to find that the cheese seemed to add nothing; this burger would have been no different without it.

The most unusual part of this burger (bacon jam isn’t exactly common, but Wendy’s has done it before, and so has Sonic) was probably the cheddar bun. Here are list of other things that are unusual:

• The noise turtles make when they make love.
• Extreme body modification like tongue-splitting.
• Watching a seahorse give birth.
• Women who love serial killers.

And like this bulleted list, I’m not sure I need the cheddar bun in my life. It too was — wait for it — very dry, and the cheese was barely noticeable beyond giving the bun a strange, slightly chewy texture.

All in all, this was a largely forgettable burger.

Purchased Price: $5.99
Size: Single patty
Rating: 5 out of 10
Nutrition Facts: 810 calories, 54 grams of fat, 21 grams of saturated fat, 2 grams of trans fat, 105 milligrams of cholesterol, 1370 milligrams of sodium, 44 grams of carbohydrates, 3 gram of fiber, 5 gram of sugar, 39 grams of protein.