I’d be a terrible review blogger. I am a terrible review blogger. I used to think I should try and solicit products from companies, that it’d be fun, but I’m reasonably certain that the entire food industry knows better than to let me form a public opinion about anything.
Take for example this packet of Hot Pockets Snackers in Fiesta Nacho Bites flavor, which I purchased from the local Grocery Outlet¹. I was shopping with my pal Fraoigh, and we laughed at how utterly, totally teenage these things are, and since I still don’t have a working oven, they went into my basket. I paid less than a dollar for them as well, which helps with that decision-making tree.
Perhaps the best part is that they don’t give instructions for heating them unless you have a microwave. It appears that we have evolved beyond the toaster oven, sort of how a teenage friend of mine said she didn’t understand what the hell the icon for the “save” was supposed to be at the top of a document program, and I had to explain floppy disks to her. I toasted them at 400° until they spooged their innards ala Totino’s Pizza Rolls.
Anyway, Fiesta Nacho Bites Snackers. NOT A LOW FAT FOOD. I stared at this warning on the label for some minutes, exhausted and hungry, before realizing that because the product boasts they Cialis are BAKED Not FRIED, the company had to clarify that they didn’t actually mean anything by this at all. Everything is always so complicated with processed foods. I’d forgotten that my avoidance of them wasn’t entirely dietary as much as scholarly.
They actually smelled good. I was starving and alone in the house, so that may have been a factor, but they smelled pleasantly nacho-y, like cheesy and corn tortillas, despite having no corn in them. Right then the dog told me she had to go outside, where of course it was pouring rain so I had to stand outside with a flashlight getting soaked while she read the Wall Street Journal and took the world’s most leisurely dump. Upside: the Bites were not nuclear hot by the time I got back to them.
And, no. They taste like breakfast sausage and fake cheese, anything “nacho” or “fiesta” totally evaporated. Literally just breakfast sausage inside. Not wretched, but off enough to make me wonder if there had been some kind of test-kitchen mix-up back at the food lab.
I guess I’m not a teenager after all. And then! Proof arrived:
¹I should note that in the Anger Burger household, we call the Grocery Outlet the “Used Food Store.” I don’t remember how this started, but I now have to concentrate on using the correct name when speaking about it to other people.