Le Whif Chocolate Inhaler

To some of you, this may have come as a painfully apparent “DOOOI” moment, but to others, this might be a shock. Brace yourself. I was kind of a loser in high school. I know this is somewhat shocking being that I’ve presented myself as an awesome person on the internet. Shocker! You must think I’m like currency- legal and tender. But in reality, that’s a little far from the truth. This anxious undercurrent of a subject matter may spring from the fact that I’m going home in a few days after defriending over 300 assholes on my Facebook and, due to Murphy’s Law, will inevitably encounter at least eight of them while getting coffee and will have to endure awkward conversation and remind myself that I did what I did because I hated them.
I wish I had had Le Whif in high school. At least then I could have pretended to be edgy. It’s the perfect amount of sleek, oily pretension combined with the allure of snortable drugs but- psyche! It’s really chocolate. If I’d had asthma as a child, the irony of having this match my inhaler yet also be off-limits because of its powdery properties would not have escaped me. Le Whif is so impossibly vapid that even I, Lord of the Guise, must avert my eyes to its monochromatic color scheme and stupid “eating by breathing” mission statement. Seriously, Le Whif, you look like a tampon. You need to check yourself before you wreck yourself.
While I can’t honestly say this is the most embarrassing thing I’ve crammed in my mouth (that honor wholeheartedly goes to Kush Cakes) it’s certainly the most awkward. It’s a cross between a cigarillo and a plastic party noisemaker. And worse yet, you’re supposed to smoke it as though you were smoking a hand-rolled clove cigarette- gingerly, with a slight air of disgust. Below are a few recent installments I like to call “Faces of Le Whif.” They should give you a pretty good idea as to how we liked this.
I feel like a thirteen year old sneaking a smoke behind the bleachers for the first time, except this isn’t a Virginia Slim and I don’t feel cool at all. Despite the reassurance that the chocolate particles were too large to enter my lungs at 80 to 300 microns, I still feel like this crappy chocolate is bouncing around my respiratory system. After hacking up a Hershey’s bar, I tasted it. It has the unmistakable flavor of crappy, unsweetened baking chocolate and granulated sugar- grainy, with a bitter and undersweetened flavor, a predominantly fake molasses and brown sugar taste.
It’s like eating cocoa powder and Splenda, but with the added humiliation of sucking it through a patented device. Ick. It had a harsh, burning texture and left my throat feeling raw. All the thrill of a real cigarette with none of the Bond-level suavity or satisfaction. Also, it leaves a dirty, brown residue on the mouth of the depositor, a fine dust which inevitably gets all over your clothes and then melts for real.
There are absolutely no redeeming qualities to this product. Chocolatiers have scaled down their regular bars to make 100-calorie bars for the calorie conscious, and as far as I can tell, nobody has explicitly expressed a desire to breathe in their food. Perhaps this is a good chocolate “hit” for the stereotypical Hollywood female workaholic, but Jesus, so is a Tootsie Roll. Leave Le Whif in Le Trash and go drink some chocolate soy milk.

Cawy Watermelon Soda

Outside of food writing, I wouldn’t say that I indulge in the most normal of hobbies. I’m an amateur moped tinkerer, an ex-guitarist, French history buff, and occasional organic chef. I take my wines in quality over quantity and I drink my scotch neat. My ultimate goals for life are to proceed living in a hedonistic, yet annoyingly successful manner similar to Josh Kilmer-Purcell, Cameron from Modern Family, and the butt of all lawyer jokes. As I’m writing this opening paragraph cum witty personal ad, perhaps the one hobby I’ve kept most under wraps over the last few years is my propensity for collecting weird sodas and potato chips. My favorites include freaky international flavors, and wacky racial stereotypes.

That’s right. The photo we didn’t take.

Looks like Hatermelon, son.

Back in February, Rusty at Tampa Bay Food Monster sent a whole box of awesome foods, beverages, alligator jerkies, and a large-ass cigar of unknown provenance. One of the enclosed sodas was this watermelon monstrosity by Cawy, a company based out of Miami producing flavors like Quinabeer, fruity cola, Champ’s cola, and the depressingly named Coco Solo to go with your chili for one. The watermelon soda smells like a potent combination of watermelon-flavored Jolly Ranchers and Calgon bubble bath. Not so oddly enough, it tastes like that, too. It’s predominantly soapy in flavor, with a weird, bitter creaminess. The aftertaste lingers on the tongue like soap, though thankfully without leaving a slick sheen on the inside of the mouth. That doesn’t save it from tasting like absolute ass, though. You’d think 200 calories and 50 grams of sugar would be able to help it along, but no dice. The sweetness was muted in the mixture of chemical flavors and colors. This soda is gross and creepy.

You’ll be pleased to know, though, that in addition to making a fine piece of wall art in your home, the soda can offers a plethora of educational activities along its circumference, much like a cereal box or tattooed penis. For instance, one side of the can will teach you the French translation for “watermelon ass soda,” and the top of the can offers an edifying opportunity to have a real life e-web internet World Wide pen pal by simply emailing cawy@cawy.net! Perfect for little sheltered kids and lonely housewives. There’s even a coloring section provided you choose the non-racial androgynous boy label. Fun for the whole family. I’m done, I can’t do this any more. This soda has literally stabbed me in the throat and watched me bleed. Literally.

SNACKDOWN: Healthy Choice vs. Lean Cuisine in Battle Ravioli

Here at Chez Love, we are no strangers to the delicacy of the frozen meal. Many a night has been saved by the good graces of an Amy’s frozen pizza or a pint of ice cream. So when we saw these two varieties of gourmet ravioli, we knew a snackdown was in order.The two varieties wouldn’t have seemed out of place on the menu in a nice restauraunt. Lean Cuisine boasted a pumpkin ravioli with creamy sauce with walnuts, snap peas, and carrots, while Healthy Choice gave us a lobster cheese ravioli with green and yellow zucchini in a vodka sauce. Both sounded excellent and filling for a cold night.Unfortunately, we couldn’t stomach sampling more than a bite of each. While each was visually appealing- the LC’s julienned cuts of vegetables and the HC’s hearty portions, the flavors were each abominable in their own ways. Let’s take a journey into the world of Healthy Choice. The ravioli in this dish were mushy with a crumbly, powdery filling and leaking fishy fluid that completely saturated the rest of the dish with a strong canned seafood flavor. When I tasted the vegetables with sauce alone, despite seeing a firm, colorful piece of zucchini, all my mouth could think was “FISH” and resisted my every attempt to shove it in there. The sauce, which had come out of the microwave thick and rich-looking, was runny when I sat down to eat and also tasted like fish. A quick look at the ingredients showed that one of the main offenders was “pollack powder,” and after that, the only thing I could associate this was fish food and worse, the flakes that fish food comes in. No thanks.After that, I was looking forward to trying the Lean Cuisine, but Keepitcoming told me not to waste my taste buds. The crisp, colorful vegetables were drowned in the “creamy” sauce, or in our case, the salty sauce. It was an assault on my blood pressure. For some reason, both of these dishes contained an ingredient or component that made it impossible to taste anything else. The ravioli in this dish was on the other end of the spectrum- too firm and almost chewy, with an acidic, yammy flavor to its filling. This was a particular shame, as the dish itself was really pretty.

Unfortunately, we have no winner. The real winner is the pizza we picked up shortly after! Better luck next time. Expect more frozen food offerings in the future…

Philly Cooking Creme Italian Cheese and Herb

I am not a busy mom. I don’t find myself waiting hand and foot on a hungry husband and rushing my children to oodles of activities. My entire life is one big “me time” and I rarely find myself in a dilemma when the time comes to cook dinner for more than one person.

And yet, I found myself drawn to Philadelphia Cooking Creme.Maybe it’s because I’m a college student, but I never blink at the opportunity to add cream cheese to food. And being that this was one of Philadelphia’s biggest advertising campaigns yet, how could I not try it? The marketing really confines it to a very specific demographic: if you’re incompetent at cooking and find yourself literally paralyzed by anxiety over reading a cookbook, this supplement is for you. I can’t bring myself to call it a sauce, nor can I call it a creme, because thick, white, gooey stuff that smells funny just doesn’t do it for me.
Philly’s phinest comes in four flavors, Italian Cheese and Herb (herb singular), Santa Fe Blend, Savory Garlic, and Original. My grocery store only carried two of the four, so I opted to try the Italian Cheese and Herb. Upon opening the package, only one thought entered my mind: is it possible this has gone bad? It couldn’t have been- it had only been released less than a week ago. It made no sense. And yet, the texture was grainy and inconsistent, too wet and too pungent. When we tasted it, it was acerbic- that generic herb blend rearing its ugly head, and the “Italian cheese” was mainly just cream cheese. Cream-a chees-a, if you will.
However, it goes without saying that you have to cook with it before you eat it, thus damning this to the unitasking products we so loathe here at Foodette Reviews. It’s a one trick pony. You can’t spread this on your bagel or mix it in with your quiche. It’s a sauce, damn it, and it’s not going to pander to anyone else’s needs. So with that in mind, we tried it in three applications- as a breakfast food in eggs, as a lunch with a chicken burrito, and as dinner, with homemade gnocchi and meatballs. All three of them vastly disappointed us.
The eggs were probably the biggest failure, as we love to mix a little sour cream or cream cheese into our morning omelettes to make them creamy and fluffy. Cooking creme, however, made us feel like we were being molested by our morning eggs, rendering them grainy and seizing them up, tasting more like school lunch eggs from a military issued brown box than Mark Bittman’s low and slow method. The herbs overpowered all other flavors, the scariest being the smoky paprika I added at the end. If a chemical, er, supplement is so powerful that it overwhelms DJ Smoky P, we’re in serious trouble. All “creamy” elements of the sauce disappeared or dissolved into the eggs, leaving nothing more but a slimy trail at the bottom of the pan.With the burrito, the cooking creme was the most successful. Granted, that’s like giving an award to the best five inch penis in the world, but I digress. I cooked up some chicken in a pan and added about a tablespoon of cooking creme. It cooked and sizzled with the chicken, but ended up browning at the edges. In the minute or so that I sauteed it for, it managed to reduce itself to a milky, watery liquid that barely adhered to the chicken at all. This completely defeated the purpose of being a sauce, because a sauce is supposed to stick to whatever you’re using it on, and made it more of a marinade. That being said, a bulk of the graininess was cooked off, and it seemed more mild in a burrito setting. My main complaint, aside from the texture, was how bland it made everything look. That’s partially our fault because we think that keeping vegetables around the house is a carnal sin, but it wouldn’t hurt to have some small pieces of green and red peppers to enhance the creme. This may provide comfort for people with bland dietary restrictions or infants, but it was rather unpalatable for us.
The pasta and meatballs was a toss-up, because we only added a tablespoon to an entire pound of gnocchi along with a whole jar of pasta sauce. Any effects the creme had were negative. It blended in with the sauce until it was relatively unoffensive, yet still retaining that dastardly generic herb bitterness, and made the leftovers strangely clumpy. It really seems to defeat the purpose of using it as a sauce when you add a mere tablespoon and it still does nothing but screw up your food.

I feel like this is gimmicky in every sense of the word, and preys upon the self-sufficiency of harried consumers. It tastes fake, it’s basically useless, and it markets itself as an upscale alternative to many, many other sufficient sauce boosters. This product practically fosters a dependency on packaged products. It’s not the mommy bloggers’ faults that they’re busy, but it is their faults if they can’t learn basic cooking skills or memorize the digits to their favorite Chinese joint. For $3.69, you could buy some cream cheese or make a whole mess of bechamel, both of which would provide the desired effect without the extraneous additions. Leave the Cooking Creme behind and order a pizza for your progeny.

SPICY WEEK PART 2: Regular Hot Sauces

All right. All is back to normal and the photos are here! So without further ado, let me share with you the results of a drunken evening with Swagger, 40 McNuggets, and an asston of hot sauces. Damn, son.We judged the hot sauces out of ten, with points for these categories:
Heat (Out of three. The heat had to be lingering with a good burn, but not painful)
Flavor (Out of three. Savory, peppery, vinegary, with a good balance.)
Appearance (Out of three. Visually appealing? Appetizing? Something you’d serve to guests?)
Label (Out of one. Is it clip-art or Cezanne?)The first sauce tried was the Suck Creek wing sauce. I especially liked it because of its name, but the clip-art minimalist logo, and funky chicken legs sticking out from the name were kind of cheesy. This was a visually appealing sauce, but had lots of vinegar. Possibly a little too much, because that was really all we tasted. It had a slight burn, but didn’t really linger.
Heat- 2
Flavor- 1
Appearance- 3
Label- 0
OVERALL- 6The next sauce was a Caribbean hot sauce, Goldson’s MoreFire. I love fruit and heat so I was expecting a nice mango or papaya flavor in this. It was difficult for Swagger to get this open because it was sealed with a crappy sticker, and combined with the ever-persistent “drunk hands,” we quickly got irritated. The packaging was strange and looked like someone had gone overboard with Photoshop. And after all that work, it wasn’t worth the hassle. It smelled strange, and the main ingredient wasn’t even pepper. It was tomato. It smelled like barbecue and was overly chunky with a weird spice that faded quickly away.
Heat- 0
Flavor- 1
Appearance- 0
Label- 1
OVERALL- 2After that, we had a sauce that I’d had kicking around for a while, the Big Papi Double Hitter. Now, I don’t know about you, but when I see a label advertising “Big Papi’s sauce,” a man whose lips are dangerously close to a smoking, phallic object, and flaming objects all around, I think of one thing. Luckily, Swagger knows a thing or two about baseball and informed me that this was actually the fabulous David Ortiz. And the sauce wasn’t bad. The packaging may have been a little suggestive, but it had a nice blend of peppers and a decent heat with a clean, wasabi-like burn. It was a little salty, but carried a good smoky flavor, too.
Heat- 2
Flavor- 2
Appearance- 1
Label- 1
OVERALL- 6This hot sauce looked a little like the Suck Creek sauce, but with a thicker texture. It was a Southern hot sauce, so I expected a lot from this company. But Lillie’s of Charleston spent more time making sure their labels were Gullah-approved than priming their hot sauces, because this was too sweet with a very slight burn suspected to be from the vinegar that clouded its flavor than peppers.
Heat- 0
Flavor- 1
Appearance- 1
Label- 0
OVERALL- 2After that, we had a sauce by Heartbreaking Dawn’s. They sent over a few unique product that spanned other categories as well, but this classic “gold” sauce made me think of mustard and heat- two of my favorite things. The packaging was funky, but I didn’t really understand what the tiki-like creature on the bottle was. It smelled promising, and wasn’t too sweet, but had an overpowering vinegar aftertaste. It was still pretty tasty with a lingering burn.
Heat- 2
Flavor- 2
Appearance- 1
Label- 1
Overall- 7
Dr. Gonzo’s Uncommon Condiments was a company I’d been chatting with for a while, and their products seemed diverse and interesting, with archaic names that reminded me of an apothecary. The packaging and labeling was clean-cut and monochromatic in an Inception, hipster-like fashion. This particular sauce, the Buffalo Balm, was very watery, but had an exceptionally tasty lime and jalapeno flavor and a really good, lingering prickle. There was no aftertaste, but there was one of the best afterburns of any of the sauces we’d had so far. This was seriously good stuff.
Heat- 3
Flavor- 3
Appearance- 1
Label- 2
Overall- 9The next sauce was weird in all senses of the word. For starters, Trini Mike’s had a creepy anthropomorphic pepper character, and that guy was jacked. So we had this jacked pepper character on a beach, with his sexy pepper wife and adorable pepper infant grilling peppers on the beach, and then the pepper sauce in the bottle. These characters not only condoned cannibalism; they actively participated in it themselves! Who was the pepper in the bottle? A cousin? An ex-lover of Mrs. Pep? When we opened the bottle, the sauce had separated and was thick and gooey on top. This sauce was like napalm. It was painfully hot with no flavor and took about ten minutes for me to get the burn to recede, aided by about a half gallon of milk. I didn’t enjoy this at all and thought it was disgusting.
Heat- 0
Flavor- 0
Appearance- 0
Label- 0
OVERALL- 0
The next sauce was a little misleading. I had been under the impression that this was a unique, fruit-based hot sauce, but it was really more of a fruit spread. It was unique, a sunny peach-tomato “hot sauce” with a really distinctly organic flavor, but it wasn’t hot at all. Strangely enough, this contained habanero peppers, but we didn’t taste them at all.
Heat- 0
Flavor- 1
Appearance- 2
Label- 0
OVERALL- 3We came up with another wing sauce after that one. It lived up to its name- Saucy Mama. It was a bright, bold red with a succinct label and it glistened on our nugget. This really was the perfect wing sauce- even going as far as to rival Frank’s! It was a buttery, tangy wing sauce with a freakishly smooth texture. Really, really smooth, and it even had a decent heat to boot, perfectly balanced between pepper and vinegar. This was a wonderful sauce and Keepitcoming and I even used it in a sandwich for the Puppy Bowl.
Heat- 3
Flavor- 2
Appearance- 2
Label- 1
OVERALL- 8We then came onto the Crooked Condiments hot sauce. It said it was a jalapeno hot sauce, but was mysteriously brown and chunky, with a sour scent wafting from the bottle. It had a very distinct smell, like soy sauce and raw onions. And it was not what we were expecting- there was nothing to distinguish that it was at all jalapeno. It tasted more like a spicy tamarind sauce, with a quick burn and a milky, sour aftertaste.
Heat- 1
Flavor- 0
Appearance- 0
Label- 0
OVERALL- 1Ten sauces in and we were pretty tired and pretty wasted. It was already 1 in the morning and we’d ingested more nuggets than any man ought to. But still, we persevered. The next sauce was from the aptly named sauce line, Pain is Good. And indeed, it is, with a sauce like this. The sauce in question was a jalapeno harissa, a familiar spice flirting with the exotic. This, I liked. The bottle and labeling gave a mixed breed stereotype- maybe your hippie cousin’s grungy girlfriend from Texas. She has dreadlocks. With its lunch bag label and screaming severed heads, along with a flask-shaped bottle, it was pretty snappy and a little sexy. Immediately after opening the bottle, a nice, smoky scent emanated out. It was a really flavorful, smoky sauce, and it wasn’t too spicy, but packed enough heat to make us draw in our breaths. You can really taste the roasting of the peppers and spices in this.
Heat- 1
Flavor- 3
Appearance- 2
Label- 1
OVERALL- 7After that was a South African sauce, Nando’s Hot Peri-Peri sauce. This was another bright, coral-colored sauce with a kick to its flavor- surprisingly, not a spicy kick. The real surprise in this was a bright, fresh burst of lemon about midway the bite. For a sauce with vinegar as the main ingredient, it sure wasn’t as acidic as I’d imagined it to be.
Heat- 2
Flavor- 3
Appearance- 1
Label- 0
OVERALL- 6The last hot sauce of the night (thankfully) was Red Hot Robin’s chipotle mango hot sauce. This was a drippy, almost syrupy in consistency, sauce that was a little heavy handed on the chipotle. The smokiness was almost too cloying for me, but it had a good burn to cut it and a sweet flavor, despite lacking a distinct mango taste. Swagger and I both liked the Ed Hardyesque packaging.
Heat- 3
Flavor- 1
Appearance- 1
Label- 1
OVERALL- 6

TOP THREE
1. Dr. Gonzo’s Buffalo Balm (9)
2. Saucy Mama’s Wing Sauce (8)
3. Pain is Good Jalapeno Harissa Sauce (8)

Stay tuned for tomorrow’s spicy post…Swagger reviews death sauces!

SPICY WEEK PART 1: Weird Ass Stuff/Misc.

Another rearrangement. Spicy Week 2011 isn’t out of order- it’s SPECIAL. And also entirely my fault. But tonight I’m featuring, as Always Sunny in Philadelphia would say, the wild card. Or wild cards, in this case. This selection was a bunch of hot sauces or spreads that were too interesting to lump into one category. I wanted to feature them together instead of just cramming them in somewhere they wouldn’t stand out- it would be like drinking an ’89 Clinet in between two other big players- a Beaucastel or a Certan. That way, I’d be able to enjoy and savor each one.It was indeed, a motley crue of sauces. All different peppers, syrups, sauces, jellies. But quite tasty across the board. We started on a pretty dismal note. The first sauce, from Pain is Good, was a jalapeno wasabi sauce. The packaging was unique. All across the board, PiG has shown us a brown bag, flask-shaped, sort of grungy style that I rather like. It’s the same here. And the sauce looked promising, but turned out to be sour from the start, with a funky mouthfeel and aftertaste. It was probably all the worst of both jalapeno and wasabi, and would doubtedly go well and overpower any food it was paired with. The next sauce was from Nando’s Peri-Peri, their extra mild lemon Peri-Peri sauce. Having enjoyed their hot sauce and cooking sauce in the past, I was prepared to put this on my chips and savor it. Even if you’re from an area with little to no good Mexican, who hasn’t enjoyed the combination of citrus and salt? I love squeezing limes on my nachos. This, however, was pretty disgusting. It was very, very bitter with too much lemon. Ironically, the citrus made the “extra mild” sauce a little bit hot from the acidic burn. It had a soapiness to it and a smell I couldn’t quite distinguish. After passing it to my roommates, we later determined that it smelled exactly like nail polish remover and an asston of garlic. It’s inedible and I wouldn’t put this on anything for fear of being suspected of poisoning. Luckily, it went up from there. After that, I tried Benito’s habanero maple syrup. I was really excited when this came in, as I’d been envisioning a cold winter breakfast of jalapeno cornmeal pancakes with syrup, and this made it sound even more delectable. I figured that at its worst, it could be thick and grainy and overly spicy. But it was perfect. Honestly, one of the tastiest syrups I’ve had, despite being an outlier. The first great thing was that it had a natural maple syrup base and flowed easily and smoothly. I’d have guzzled this plain, but it got even better and it came with a burn! A lingering heat that didn’t overwhelm the sugar, but would wake you up in the morning for sure.Then came the jams. Honestly, I’m dying to use these jams in a jalapeno popper. Or maybe a sweet banana pepper popper. I think they’d go really well with cream cheese. This is the Chili Dawg’s Strawbanero. I think the names are a little contradictory, because I expected something chili-related, but jam is delicious. The strawberry flavor was intense and seedy, with a little gumminess. The heat was present, and definitely in with the jam, but was inevitably not very spicy and died out quickly. Overall, kind of disappointing for a spicy product, but decent as a jam.
This next jam was one of four my father brought me from France, all themed with strange peppers and fruits native to Europe. This is supposedly a coing and Szechuan pepper jam. I had no idea as to what a coing was, but Wikipedia France told me it was an extremely aromatic, large fruit, with an acidic flavor and a pear-like shape. When I tasted it, its softness reminded me of a plum and it had an appley, slightly citrus flavor. I’d definitely be interested in trying a fresh one. The peppers didn’t show through as a spice, but more as an herbal note. An intense herbal note. More like tea than spice, or pumpkin pie spice, but tasted pretty high end.The last sauce I tried was probably the most hot saucey of tonight’s bunch, a jalisco pepper hot blueberry sauce from Buen Apetito. I found that it had a nice heat that really lingered- for over two minutes, but otherwise could have fit in with the regular hot sauces. It didn’t remind me of a blueberry hot sauce aside from a strange pulpiness to the texture. But what I was really looking for, the berries, was lost in the heat.This is another jam that Keepitcoming tried as a gift from Dr. D back in November. It’s a saucy spicy jalapeno pepper jam grown by one of Dr. D’s friends and made into jam by her students. Her company is called We Be Jammin’ and makes excellent jam. This particular pepper was looser than most jams, but was very, very spicy and soaked into the toast and other breads we used, with a sweet brown sugar flavor and a substantial spice.

THE BREAKDOWN
Pain is Good Jalapeno Wasabi: 2
Nando’s Mild Lemon: 0
Benito’s Habanero Syrup: 10
Chili Dawg’s Strawbanero: 7
Carrefour Coings and Pepper: 8
Buen Apetito Blueberry: 5
We Be Jammin’ Hot Pepper Jam: 9

Clearly, Benito’s syrup was the tastiest unique product I tried tonight. I feel like it’s both versatile and exciting and my only qualm is that it comes in a tiny bottle when it seems as though it could be useful for so many foods. This is also the case with We Be Jammin’- another condiment that has that universal usage. Both sauces were well balanced with spice and sweet, and weren’t overwhelming in one way or another. Excellent!

Burger King Cookie Dough Pie

As I’ve mentioned before, Keepitcoming and I have vastly differing ideas of what defines “food.” So when the time comes to jump on the latest fast food products, I often have to lure her into trying them so I don’t look like a schmuck sitting in my car with three chalupas and no one to share them with.

Everyone likes cookie dough. And everyone likes pie. It’s an undisputed fact that will most likely be drafted as an addendum in the Constitution in the near future, at least before the Mayan apocalypse. When I saw that Burger King was testing this, I had to try it. Luckily, Keepitcoming was enthused and rather intrigued by the concept and was willing to check it out with me.The pie was housed in an unnecessarily large protective chamber that probably took Mies van der Rohe and a team of ten six months to design. The actual confection is roughly 3/4 the size of the box. It features an Oreo or Oreo poseur crust, looking as though it leans towards the latter as it was unnaturally brown, a whipped vanilla creme filling studded with pieces of chocolate chip cookie dough with more creme and miniature chocolate chips on top.

Shit is crammed with cookie dough on the pictures. Burger King’s graphic designer, likely traumatized with staring at The King’s lifeless, vacant face, made a cheerful presentation that gave me heightened expectations of gobs of cookie dough and fluffy peaks of cream. In reality, it was quite unappealing. The former hunks of dough were a few scattered pieces about the size of a pencil eraser, sunk to the bottom like fat kids in a pool and offering no grittiness or chips or flavor. I commend Burger King for officially creating a new way to hate cookie dough. This now bumps salmonella to number two.The whipped filling is the worst part of this pie. What was whimsical in the Butterfinger pie is now downright odious and tastes filmy, oily, and seemed to have absorbed the cardboardy flavor of the box it sat in. It sits upon a mushy and flavorless crust. The whole thing delivers a one-dimensional flavor, and that flavor is ass. Thanks to Burger King’s inferior product, I am now forced to eat my Buck Doubles in the car. Bastards.

Vitamin Water Stur-D

Oooh, the new Vitamin Water comes with promises to make me strong like bull- and that shit’s blue to boot.

Unfortunately, I cannot successfully implement this in my fetish-related dog training repertoire, as the ensuing libation is not toilet water blue, but more of a petrichor, stormy steel blue. You read me, Crayola? I swallow words and shit gold.

I decided to drink this during a lull of working through a collection of archives for one of my classes (making sure the cap was fully secured!) to see if it did make me more resilient and strong to onerous tribulations like professorial criticism, poor organizational skills, and rusted paper clips. It did not do so, and when I later tripped down a short flight of stairs, I was surprised to find that I felt actual pain from the fall.Vitamin Water, is this all a lie?

So with feeling sturdy clearly not in this drink’s agenda, I opted to focus on the flavor. Vitamin Water calls Stur-D blue agave, passion fruit, and citrus, but I’d call it a tasteless melange of flavors best allocated to the teenage girl drugstore perfume section than the beverage chambers, because this is absolutely rank. I started drinking it with the assumption that it tasted a little herbal, like tea or a poorly made Arnold Palmer, with some passionfruit thrown in for effort, but it seemed to combine the worst of all possible flavors. The “herbal” agave part was honeyed and sickly sweet. And for the record, agave doesn’t seem like a good ingredient for resistance and strength. I mean, come on- one tequila, two tequila, three tequila, floor? And the passionfruit had that fake floral, musky lingering taste that a person experiences when they’ve had one too many dates with a girl named Princess. Sigh.Basically, what we had at the end was an overly sweet, weirdly floral, fake tasting “tropical” beverage in a strange color and little to no appeal. I finished half of this and then kept looking at it in my hand. I just had no will or desire to finish this- and you know what that means. This was disappointing. I was really jazzed to try this and told all of my friends, and now I have to rescind my excitement and stop writing “Mrs. Stur-D” on my notebooks in Sharpie marker.

Durian Cookies

Swagger speaking. On a routine trip to the local Asian grocery to pick up some cooking goods and snacks, I saw these on the shelf next to the cookies I usually get. I’ve heard so much about durian and how bad it smells and how the taste is actually pretty good compared to the smell so I decided to pay the $1.60 for them and give them a taste. Aside from getting totally trashed that one time at this party and hooking up with a 3/10 then waking up in a bed naked the next morning and realized what had occurred, buying and tasting these cookies was the worst mistake I’ve ever made.

I don’t know if any of the people who read this blog have had encounters with durian, but the smell of the durian fruit is definitely as bad as everyone says, maybe even worse. I don’t know how many readers here are combat veterans and have been up close to the smell of death and dead bodies of exploded enemies; but according to my close friend, Sgt. Blastmaster, who is a combat veteran of Operation Iraqi Freedom, the worst thing he has smelled before encountering durian fruit was when some guy decided to blow up rotten fruit stand next to a public bathroom with a suicide bomb in Fallujah. Apparently, even the smell of charred human flesh and exploded rotten fruit and sewage matter cannot even hold a candle to the smell of durian.From the one bite I took from one of these monstrosities before I had to go throw up uncontrollably I was able to gather that the wafer cookie itself tasted like a very thin layer of greasy particle board. The myth that durian tastes better than the smell is an awful lie people made to deceive the gullible, maybe it’s the same people that came up with Feng Shui house decorating. An equally cruel joke would be to go to a buddy’s house and leave these cookies hidden all over the place but it might result in them getting evicted or investigated by the authorities for suspicion of hiding dead bodies.

I cannot stress enough how bad these things smell or taste. They are probably the worst things I’ve ever encountered and I’ve been to underdeveloped countries. If you want to give these cookies or even the real fruit a try, go for it. Just make sure you have a bucket nearby and plenty of mouthwash.

Lemon Ginger Gnu Bar

The makers of Gnu Bar invite us to smile, because their product promotes “natural regularity.” As I tasted this fibrous granola-esque bar, I was forced to consider whether I ought to, in the words of Gnu Bar’s packaging copy, “Join the Movement.” I chose to take only one small bite, with the aim of not limiting the scope of my whereabouts and activities in the next 24 hours. This small taste was more than enough to establish that there is no reason I would ever voluntarily eat a Gnu Bar again. It tasted like dry, gingery herbal tea, vitamin pills, and cardboard, and had a texture composed of synthesized, round cluster-particles suspended in baked oat slurry.I have written in the past about a bar that unintentionally had the appearance and consistency of the, uhhh, end result of the digestive process, but this is the first product I have reviewed which enthusiastically touts its ability to make you shit. Gnu Bar, you are for old people who can’t taste food yet crave liberal-flavored novelty. Also, force feeding this product to a willing victim is an effective form of hazing. That’s what I call “Food That Works.” In conclusion, suckage.(Author’s note: This was written by Keepitcoming as Foodette is incapacitated from involuntarily consuming this bar.)