A cool reception for Dunkin' Donuts Frozen Hot Chocolate

Yesterday I struggled to prepare notes and sort my ideas for a review of two varieties of flavored Cheerios. Techniques that have served me since grade school failed to put my thoughts in order. Outlines, idea webs and note cards all failed me.

Suddenly insight burst forth into my head like a cold water balloon: We're in the middle of a massive heat wave sending the mercury arching into triple-digit territory. No one wants to eat breakfast or even talk about it. Foodies just want something cold to take on the sizzling temperatures outside.

I'm no different from any other foodie, so a quick change of gears saw me at Dunkin' Donuts ordering a Frozen Hot Chocolate. A few sips and I needed no idea web to tell me I had one incongruous beverage in my hands.

You could fry an egg on top of a car Saturday, but the Frozen Hot Chocolate kept things from boiling over.

The Frozen Hot Chocolate is little more than an icy example of contradictions. The one in the name is nothing more than a gimmick -- there's obviously nothing hot about this drink, and it would be better named a slushy, or, in Dunkin' Donuts speak, a Chocolate Coolatta.

Moving beyond the label, the flavor unleashes its own set of discrepancies. At first sip, the Frozen Hot Chocolate comes off as intensely sweet and packed with chocolate. It's impossible to keep from immediately sucking up every liquid drop within reach of the straw. Once all the fluid has found its way into your mouth, however, you're left with half a cup of bland ice.

Give it time, and that ice melts into a tepid brown fluid with just a hint of cocoa. The resulting beverage contains just enough vapid flavor to leave you longing for a shot of Hershey's syrup.

At a fundamental level this isn't a problem unique to the Frozen Hot Chocolate. The end of slushies are classically painful experiences, unless you happen to love pastel chunks of ice drained of all their initial syrupy flavor. I harbor absolutely no love for that ice, and I actually find the Frozen Hot Chocolate to be a step below its fruit-slushy brethren at this stage of the sipping game.

While the end of fruit slushies leaves me longing for the strong sugar of a fresh slushy, the end of the Frozen Hot Chocolate had me wishing I'd ordered a milk shake instead. The recently melted chocolate-milk doppelganger in the bottom of my cup left my palate crying out for richness, a richness I quickly realized never actually existed in the Frozen Hot Chocolate. Sure, it was sweet. Yet all that sugar only covered up a lack of depth.

We have an outline for trouble any time the end of a drink makes you wish you'd ordered something else. Things start out all right before dissolving into a lackluster effort worthy of just two sporks out of five.

If you want to order and actually enjoy the Frozen Hot Chocolate, I'd recommend drinking half of it and chucking the rest. The first part of the drink is a completely different story from the second, and maybe you can keep your tongue from ever realizing the depth of flavor it's missing -- you're better off without that flash of insight.

Biting into Subway's latest $5 Footlongs

July certainly rolled around quickly this year. It seems like just yesterday Easter Candy graced the store shelves, and already we find ourselves smack-dab in the middle of the steamiest of summer months: July, when heat and humidity meet to form sweat rings that last a lifetime.

Don't listen to those fools who say it's time for barbecues and pool parties. It's far too hot for that. No, this is the perfect month to pick up some cheap eats and soak in a restaurant's complimentary air conditioning. Avoiding hot weather is one of the few ways fast food can be beneficial to your health, after all.

Today I'm here to speak of the fast food that loves to brand itself as healthy: Subway. A batch of one-month $5 Footlongs has come and gone without any review on this blog, which is simply unacceptable. Fear not, loyal readers! I've been dutifully sampling these subs as they achieve their temporary discount status, and I'm about to give you a summary of each one. Just beware that you'll likely have to pay more than $5 for a Footlong if you chance to find a previous month's sub still lurking on the menu.

May: Orchard Chicken Salad

I'm not the biggest fan of fruit in my chicken salad, but this mixture of chicken, apples, cranberries, raisins, celery and mayo turned out to be a pleasant surprise. The apples and cranberries were the true stars here, imparting a sweet, juicy tone that managed to avoid completely burying the savory flavors of the chicken and mayo.

My biggest complaint with the salad still stems from all the fruit, though. I didn't feel like I'd eaten a sandwich after finishing my meal. It was too light and fresh for a sub measuring 12 inches. A few more chunks of chicken would have gone a long way toward providing the sustenance my stomach craved.

June: Chipotle Chicken and Cheese

The Chipotle Chicken and Cheese turned out to be a little more up my alley. For those of you who couldn't guess, this sub consisted of chicken, cheese and Subway's Chipotle Southwest Sauce and is toasted. I'd recommend ordering it on flatbread, which is what I did.

I'd also recommend adding extra Chipotle Southwest Sauce and jalapeno peppers. The standard dose of sauce isn't enough to live up to the sub's name, and even extra sauce doesn't quite pack the wallop it should. The peppers will rectify that situation, however, and you'll have a creamy, spicy, cheesy mess that's ideal when paired with a thick ream of napkins.

July: Italian BMT


You'll recognize the Italian BMT from the non $5 Footlong menu. It's basically a premium Spicy Italian -- in addition to the Spicy Italian's Salami and Pepperoni, this month's featured sub contains ham. In other words, in the month of July you can add ham to a Spicy Italian for no extra charge.

You might as well do so, although I find that the ham covers up my favorite pepperoni flavor a bit. That's really the only nit worth picking, and it's more a matter of personal preference than a fatal flaw. Just keep in mind that this sub contains a ton of processed meat. You may need to go into detox for a few days after eating it.

Chocolate-Dipped Peeps

As I write this, the Easter Bunny is in his Bahamas candy shop putting the finishing touches on Easter baskets for all the good little girls and boys in the world. His work will bring delight tomorrow morning when chocolate rabbits, cream-filled eggs and jellybeans galore grace living rooms throughout the world.

But what about you, the adults? The ones whose lives aren't touched by the hopping joy brought by this hopping holiday hare? You've seen most of the stalwart Easter candy before, and chances are it's starting to look a little dull.

I'm pleased to report that a few new candies have bounded their way onto shelves for this year's Easter season. Today I'll focus on Peeps, those hunks of marshmallow goodness that turned your childhood into a sticky-fingered mess. Recently I noticed a couple of new-age Peeps at the grocery store: Peeps Chocolate-Dipped Marshmallow Chicks and Peeps Sugar-Free Marshmallow Chicks.

We'll be forgoing an in-depth look at sugar-free Peeps -- making Peeps without sugar is like making liquid without water. It's technically possible, but I doubt you'd want to ingest it. Instead, today's critique will be an examination of the chocolate-dipped Peeps.

The idea's a no-brainer once you hear about it. The execution, however, is a little more nuanced than you might expect. You see, chocolate-dipping Peeps doesn't involve simply dousing them in chocolate. Peeps Chocolate-Covered Marshmallow Chicks already have that ground covered. Chocolate-dipped Peeps are only covered in chocolate at the base. The Peep head and body escapes the cocoa vat unaltered.

As a result, the delicious traditional Peep sugar coating is present in abundance, providing plenty of that texture and flavor you remember from your childhood. It's enriched by the chocolate base coating, which adds a Hershey-esque complexity to the taste.

Chocolate dipping the Peeps also blunts the insane sweetness found in the traditional chicks. There's still plenty of confectionery pop in every bite, it's just not as grating. In addition, the chocolate chips in a bit of substance, offering some weight in every nibble. You feel like you actually have something to chew, rather than a phantom mouthful that dissolves after a few seconds.

The downside to the chocolate Peeps is that they come in pared-down packs. Standard Peeps are sold bunched together in packs of five, while Chocolate-Dipped Peeps sit on shelves in packs of three. What's more, they're surrounded by cushioning plastic casing. Apparently the Peep factory doesn't want its fancy-schmancy chocolate damaged.

Half-sized packaging might be a hidden bonus in this case, however. Normally I'm against contracting the size of a product, as it essentially gives the you less for your dollar. In the case of Peeps, though, fewer chicks will probably prevent stomachaches. You don't really need to eat more than three Peeps in a sitting, but it's nearly impossible to keep yourself from eating an entire pack once it's open. This is a case where we need protection from ourselves.

I have to hand it to the chocolate-dipped Peeps, they hit the perfect balance of nostalgic flavor and sugary innovation. I'm naming them this year's must-try Easter candy and handing out a five spork rating out of a possible five. Even if you're not a fan of Peeps, you're bound to find these interesting.

Double Bacon, Egg & Cheese at Subway

Hard at work on a sprightly Easter review, I couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong. While counting my jellybeans and cracking into my Cadbury Eggs, an idea kept sprouting in the back of my mind.

I was a little early. There was something I needed to do before preparing an Easter candy extravaganza.

Then it dawned on me. I'd promised you, my loyal readers, a review of Subway's $5 Footlong of the month, the Double Bacon, Egg & Cheese. You may get to try breakfast for lunch all month, but I get to tell you if it's any good.

Omlette you in on the recipe: two fluffy egg patties, four strips of bacon and cheese sit on your choice of bread. While all of Subway's breads are available, there's really only one correct choice, and it's the flatbread. Anything else would swallow up the flavor and texture of the eggs, which would just be silly

This was my first time sampling Subway's flatbread, and it wasn't quite what I expected. It's much more pliant, with a spongy, almost playful texture. I highly recommend it, even if you forgo this particular sub. It's a nice change-up to Subway's usual bread.

The egg patties are enormous in diameter. Seriously, I've seen smaller Frisbees. They're also slightly better than your typical fast-food egg patties: fluffy in their own right and flavorful. They are, however, a bit watery. Still, it's not unpleasant. Don't confuse "watery" with "runny."

My bacon could have used a little more crunch. It was limp rather than crisp. Toasting the sub picked things up a bit, fortunately.

If ever a peppers and onions made a sandwich, this was the one. I topped mine with my personal favorite cocktail of jalapenos, banana peppers and red onions, which added a delicious crispness and captivating level of heat. The vegetables contribute just enough texture to every mouthful, taking what could be a bland bit of biting and turning it into something very satisfying.

It's pretty obvious what Subway's trying to do with the $5 Double Bacon, Egg & Cheese: promote its fledgling breakfast menu. And I recommend taking them up on the offer. At very least it's a good excuse to try the flatbread. At most it will have you leaving the restaurant with your sunny side up. Four sporks out of five.