Never have I been so surprised at Taco Bell as the day I saw the words "Pacific Shrimp" on the menu.
Specifically, "Pacific Shrimp Taco." It's a soft tortilla bearing six shrimp, lettuce, salsa and the Bell's infamous "Avocado Ranch Sauce."
At first thought the shrimp taco seems downright dangerous. Eat a bottom-dwelling crustacean from a fast-food joint previously called out for its poor-quality beef? Sounds risky.
I can't evaluate any health concerns related to the marine decapods, but I can tell you the Pacific Shrimp Taco is more appetizing than expected. It's by no means the best bang for your buck on The Bell's menu, yet it could provide a fairly tasty change of pace for all you Lent-observing Friday Taco Bell frequenters.
The salsa, tortilla, lettuce and sauce are all pretty standard. Let's skip right to the shrimp, the heart of the meal. They're about as rubbery as you'd expect. Less so than chewing gum but more so than fresh crustaceans.
Our tiny aquatic meat is saved, fortunately, by a shockingly tasty flavor. Taco Bell says they're "marinated in a mix of spices," whatever that means. My translation is that the shrimp pack a low heat that builds steadily as you eat your taco.
They aren't overly fishy, either. Everyone's worst cheap-fish nightmare is that it will cause seafood-burps all day. I'm proud to report my afternoon was free of tuna-tasting belches.
The shrimp are a little pricey, however. I paid nearly $3 for my Pacific Shrimp Taco, a bit steep considering its five-bite size. Perhaps Taco Bell should consider a price-saving "Atlantic Shrimp Taco" for its East Coast patrons.
When it came time to sink or swim, the shrimp taco manages to stay afloat with three sporks out of five. Tenderize the shrimp a little and cut down on the amount folks have to shell out for one, and this shrimp/spice combination would be a winning cocktail.
March 12, 2010
March 8, 2010
Second Annual Golden Spork Awards: The best foods of 2009
Hot on the heels of last night's Academy Awards, I'm proud to present the Second Annual Golden Spork Awards. This year's Golden Sporks will honor the foods Rick's Food Critique reviewed in 2009.
Close foodie followers will notice several tweaks to this year's awards. First, the timing. We've moved the presentation from last year's New Year's Eve slot to March in order to align with the Oscars. Hopefully this will sate any hunger for flavorful prizes that lurks in your belly after last night's fawning over tasteless films.
More importantly, the awards themselves have been modified. The first Golden Sporks were handed out to the four best foods reviewed in 2008, while the four worst foods were also cited. This year's awards will recognize the best foods in seven distinct categories, including "Best Supporting Beverage" and "Best Dessert in a Leading Role." We'll wrap up with the prestigious "Best Picnic," which is the best overall food reviewed in 2009.
The worst foods list is not completely gone, though. We'll start out with a brief "Put a spork in them" dishonorable mention roll call.
Put a spork in them: 2009's foods to forget
Burger King's Burger Shots Outgunned in every category, these should have been put out of their misery before ever reaching a menu.
Nabisco bags Someone at the snack giant seems to think people should use scissors or have a hard time getting to their crackers. The bags are impossible to open sans-tools without ripping and spilling food everywhere.
Golden Spork Awards: The top foods reviewed in 2009
Free Food: Mars Real Chocolate Relief Act In the depths of the economic recession the chocolate maker implemented a plan to send free candy coupons to anyone filling out an online form. People and M&M's everywhere smiled joyously.
Short Payment (Best sub-$1 food): Taco Bell Triple Layer Nachos They may have been a bit small and a tad soggy, but for 79 cents you didn't care.
Seasonal Food: Cadbury Creme Egg An old-time Easter favorite that always brings back memories of tummy aches and clucking bunnies.
Snack/Candy: Reese's Dark The dark side can be a wonderful thing. A rare knock-off that works better than the original.
Best Supporting Beverage: Pepsi Throwback/Mountain Dew Throwback While not the most balanced drinks, the sweet nod to real cane sugar in soda is too meaningful to ignore.
Best Dessert in a Leading Role: Yogen Früz Green Tea Frozen Yogurt
Not the gimmick it first appears to be, this luscious blend of flavors and textures surprised everyone to upset Wendy's Toffee Coffee Twisted Frosty.
Best Picnic: Five Guys By far the best overall eating experience of the year. Free peanuts, great fries, a slew of burger toppings and flavor that will knock you on your back. This is what eating a burger was meant to be.
Close foodie followers will notice several tweaks to this year's awards. First, the timing. We've moved the presentation from last year's New Year's Eve slot to March in order to align with the Oscars. Hopefully this will sate any hunger for flavorful prizes that lurks in your belly after last night's fawning over tasteless films.
More importantly, the awards themselves have been modified. The first Golden Sporks were handed out to the four best foods reviewed in 2008, while the four worst foods were also cited. This year's awards will recognize the best foods in seven distinct categories, including "Best Supporting Beverage" and "Best Dessert in a Leading Role." We'll wrap up with the prestigious "Best Picnic," which is the best overall food reviewed in 2009.
The worst foods list is not completely gone, though. We'll start out with a brief "Put a spork in them" dishonorable mention roll call.
Put a spork in them: 2009's foods to forget
Burger King's Burger Shots Outgunned in every category, these should have been put out of their misery before ever reaching a menu.
Nabisco bags Someone at the snack giant seems to think people should use scissors or have a hard time getting to their crackers. The bags are impossible to open sans-tools without ripping and spilling food everywhere.
Golden Spork Awards: The top foods reviewed in 2009
Short Payment (Best sub-$1 food): Taco Bell Triple Layer Nachos They may have been a bit small and a tad soggy, but for 79 cents you didn't care.



Not the gimmick it first appears to be, this luscious blend of flavors and textures surprised everyone to upset Wendy's Toffee Coffee Twisted Frosty.

March 5, 2010
Twix Triple Chocolate
My most-loyal readers will no doubt remember the high esteem in which I hold Twix bars. I find them to be both the ultimate workplace candy and one of the top candies for any occasion.
Not only is the combination intrinsically appealing -- cookie topped with caramel and chocolate is virtually unbeatable -- you get twice the fun. The old "two for me none for you" ad campaign is too selfish for my tastes, but it gets the point across. Biting into that second Twix to quell the disappointment of finishing your first bar is absolute bliss.
So imagine my glee when I discovered Twix Triple Chocolate staring me in the face at a gas station. Twix injected with the morbid appeal of death-by-chocolate? I didn't think the combination could lose.

(That's in sharp contrast to my photography skills, which I knew would be soundly defeated in their attempt to bring you a glareless photo of the Twix Triple Chocolate wrapper.)
For the most part, I was right. Triple Chocolate Twix is much more successful than other variations of the candy, including the lackluster peanut butter version.
Here's the blueprint: Take a normal Twix bar and turn the cookie chocolate. Then remove its encased caramel and replace it with with a chocolate substitute. Cover it all in -- you guessed it -- chocolate.
The chocolate cookie is old news, being virtually lifted from the peanut butter variety of the bar. So is the chocolate coating. The real star of Triple Chocolate Twix is undoubtedly the chocolate caramel topping the cookie.
I expected it to be something like the fudge in the fine Snickers Fudge, which is to say solid and rich. Instead it was caramel-gooey and pleasantly sweet. I won't argue it isn't rich since it still tops off a massive helping of chocolate, yet it doesn't push the bar into bellyache-inducing territory.
My only complaint is that the three chocolates blend together somewhat, leaving your taste buds picking up a cocoa combination rather than three distinct flavors. I'd like to see the outer coating or the cookie changed to a dark chocolate, making this a Twix to truly remember.
Even so, we're talking about a four-out-of-five-spork bar here. Rest assured, they didn't fudge this one up.
Not only is the combination intrinsically appealing -- cookie topped with caramel and chocolate is virtually unbeatable -- you get twice the fun. The old "two for me none for you" ad campaign is too selfish for my tastes, but it gets the point across. Biting into that second Twix to quell the disappointment of finishing your first bar is absolute bliss.
So imagine my glee when I discovered Twix Triple Chocolate staring me in the face at a gas station. Twix injected with the morbid appeal of death-by-chocolate? I didn't think the combination could lose.

(That's in sharp contrast to my photography skills, which I knew would be soundly defeated in their attempt to bring you a glareless photo of the Twix Triple Chocolate wrapper.)
For the most part, I was right. Triple Chocolate Twix is much more successful than other variations of the candy, including the lackluster peanut butter version.
Here's the blueprint: Take a normal Twix bar and turn the cookie chocolate. Then remove its encased caramel and replace it with with a chocolate substitute. Cover it all in -- you guessed it -- chocolate.
The chocolate cookie is old news, being virtually lifted from the peanut butter variety of the bar. So is the chocolate coating. The real star of Triple Chocolate Twix is undoubtedly the chocolate caramel topping the cookie.
I expected it to be something like the fudge in the fine Snickers Fudge, which is to say solid and rich. Instead it was caramel-gooey and pleasantly sweet. I won't argue it isn't rich since it still tops off a massive helping of chocolate, yet it doesn't push the bar into bellyache-inducing territory.
My only complaint is that the three chocolates blend together somewhat, leaving your taste buds picking up a cocoa combination rather than three distinct flavors. I'd like to see the outer coating or the cookie changed to a dark chocolate, making this a Twix to truly remember.
Even so, we're talking about a four-out-of-five-spork bar here. Rest assured, they didn't fudge this one up.
February 22, 2010
NBA $5 Buck Box at Taco Bell
If the title of this post didn't make you think of Charles Barkley it's time to visit American pop culture and watch the YouTube video below. Sir Charles' ode to Taco Bell's big box is the best commercial from this year's Super Bowl and possibly the best jingle of the last five years.
Actually you should watch the video even if "$5 Box" does make you think of Sir Charles rhyming away. The former NBA player reminds me of Sugar Bear from Golden Crisp -- you can't get enough.
Now that we're finished staring at embedded videos and lavishing praise on advertising honchos, we can move on to the review of Taco Bell's NBA $5 Buck Box. We'll start with the obvious: the name.
The words "Five-Buck Box" jump from Charles Barkley's mouth so easily they nearly make you forget the bizarrely lengthy and redundant "NBA $5 Buck Big Box" stamped on the side of each cardboard container. Nearly.
I know I've been heavy-handed on product names recently, so I'll make this short. The box should be called either an "NBA $5 Box" or an "NBA 5 Buck Box," not an "NBA $5 Buck Big Box." As it's currently written you would read the the name aloud as the "NBA Five-Dollar Buck Big Box." That sounds like you purchased a $5 mail-order deer hunting kit for basketball players.
For the rest of this post I'll refer to it as the "Five-Buck Box" because that's what Sir Charles calls it in the commercial. And I'm sure Sir Charles knows best.
Anyway, I was a little disappointed in my Five-Buck box. Not because of the food, which includes a Cheesy Gordita Crunch (to munch), a Burrito Supreme, a Crunchy Taco, Cinnamon Twists and a drink. Because of the cardboard. I didn't get any.
.jpg)
I ordered my Five-Buck Box to go, and Taco Bell decided to stuff my items in a bag without the advertised cardboard. The packaging was all wrong, even if the price was right.
It slightly flattened my Burrito Supreme and caused my Cinnamon Twists to spill. I even believe my lack of a box led me to have a definite inability blocking shots on guys with dreadlocks.
On another note, I was allowed to order either a Cheesy Gordita Crunch to munch or a Volcano Taco (to mock-o?). Options are always nice, but anyone who's read my reviews of the Cheesy Gordita Crunch and Volcano Taco knows there's no choice between the two. The Volcano Taco merely simmers while the Cheesy Gordita Crunch explodes in wondrous flavor.
None of the products in the Five-Buck Box are new, which is not necessarily a bad thing. The Crunchy Taco does its just-a-little-too-small thing, crunching away for a few bites. Cinnamon Twists, similar to pork rinds doused in sugar, are wonderfully guilt-inducingly tasty. And even when flattened the Burrito Supreme packs enough re-fried beans to be satisfying.
The products in the Five-Buck Box are lots and lots and make up a good deal. Be warned, though, it's a lot of Taco Bell.
Regulars at the chain know just one Burrito Supreme can lead to an afternoon nursing an uncomfortable tummy. The Five-Buck Box has potential to cause the mother of all Taco Bellyaches.
Since I received my Five-Buck Box in a bag I have no choice but to rate the experience at only two sporks. I had Charles Barkley's jingle in my head the entire time I ate, making matters worse. "The Five-Buck Bag, it rocks, it rocks" does not rhyme.
I tried to make up my own "Five-Buck Bag" version, but it just isn't the same:
The Five-Buck Bag, it lags, it lags
It lags for a meal since the plastic sags
It lags for a hag, it lags for a JAG
It lags tagging nags while I try not to gag
It would easily rock if it came in a box
But Taco Bell hoards cardboard like Fort Knox
The 5 Buck Bag, it lags, it lags
It sure does lag since it's in a bag
Actually you should watch the video even if "$5 Box" does make you think of Sir Charles rhyming away. The former NBA player reminds me of Sugar Bear from Golden Crisp -- you can't get enough.
Now that we're finished staring at embedded videos and lavishing praise on advertising honchos, we can move on to the review of Taco Bell's NBA $5 Buck Box. We'll start with the obvious: the name.
The words "Five-Buck Box" jump from Charles Barkley's mouth so easily they nearly make you forget the bizarrely lengthy and redundant "NBA $5 Buck Big Box" stamped on the side of each cardboard container. Nearly.
I know I've been heavy-handed on product names recently, so I'll make this short. The box should be called either an "NBA $5 Box" or an "NBA 5 Buck Box," not an "NBA $5 Buck Big Box." As it's currently written you would read the the name aloud as the "NBA Five-Dollar Buck Big Box." That sounds like you purchased a $5 mail-order deer hunting kit for basketball players.
For the rest of this post I'll refer to it as the "Five-Buck Box" because that's what Sir Charles calls it in the commercial. And I'm sure Sir Charles knows best.
Anyway, I was a little disappointed in my Five-Buck box. Not because of the food, which includes a Cheesy Gordita Crunch (to munch), a Burrito Supreme, a Crunchy Taco, Cinnamon Twists and a drink. Because of the cardboard. I didn't get any.
.jpg)
I ordered my Five-Buck Box to go, and Taco Bell decided to stuff my items in a bag without the advertised cardboard. The packaging was all wrong, even if the price was right.
It slightly flattened my Burrito Supreme and caused my Cinnamon Twists to spill. I even believe my lack of a box led me to have a definite inability blocking shots on guys with dreadlocks.
On another note, I was allowed to order either a Cheesy Gordita Crunch to munch or a Volcano Taco (to mock-o?). Options are always nice, but anyone who's read my reviews of the Cheesy Gordita Crunch and Volcano Taco knows there's no choice between the two. The Volcano Taco merely simmers while the Cheesy Gordita Crunch explodes in wondrous flavor.
None of the products in the Five-Buck Box are new, which is not necessarily a bad thing. The Crunchy Taco does its just-a-little-too-small thing, crunching away for a few bites. Cinnamon Twists, similar to pork rinds doused in sugar, are wonderfully guilt-inducingly tasty. And even when flattened the Burrito Supreme packs enough re-fried beans to be satisfying.
The products in the Five-Buck Box are lots and lots and make up a good deal. Be warned, though, it's a lot of Taco Bell.
Regulars at the chain know just one Burrito Supreme can lead to an afternoon nursing an uncomfortable tummy. The Five-Buck Box has potential to cause the mother of all Taco Bellyaches.
Since I received my Five-Buck Box in a bag I have no choice but to rate the experience at only two sporks. I had Charles Barkley's jingle in my head the entire time I ate, making matters worse. "The Five-Buck Bag, it rocks, it rocks" does not rhyme.
I tried to make up my own "Five-Buck Bag" version, but it just isn't the same:
The Five-Buck Bag, it lags, it lags
It lags for a meal since the plastic sags
It lags for a hag, it lags for a JAG
It lags tagging nags while I try not to gag
It would easily rock if it came in a box
But Taco Bell hoards cardboard like Fort Knox
The 5 Buck Bag, it lags, it lags
It sure does lag since it's in a bag
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