My candy bar could have survived the zombie apocalypse

Post-apocalyptic zombie movies always seem to have survivors scrounging through dusty canned goods at deserted gas stations or desolate supermarkets. Usually it's a good excuse for directors to give the audience a run-in with a bloodthirsty member of the undead. Yet I'm not thinking about brains for lunch when I watch these films. My mind wanders to the prepacked food on the shelves.

What kind of variety can you get after the end of the world as we know it? Have picky survivors taken all the good items, leaving the slower, less-fortunate souls with the canned salmon and Cup Noodles? Are those Cup Noodles even edible without a prolonged stint in the microwave to bombard them into submission?

When you think about it, having to eat Cup Noodles in a world without hot water is enough to make you sympathize with the zombies. It makes fresh brains sound positively appetizing. 

Anyway, I had my own run-in tonight with long-in-the-tooth prepacked food. I picked up a tasty looking Nestle Crunch Crisp bar at a drug store that shall remain unnamed and gobbled it down. Afterward I noticed some writing on the inside of the wrapper:

Sorry, this is not a winning game wrapper but you can to to Xbox.com/nestle for exclusive offers from Major League Baseball® 2K8, available now at retail for your Xbox 360®.

Not only is Major League Baseball 2K8 available now at retail, it's been available for over two years. I'd say that places the carbon date of the candy bar at about 2 years.

Now I'm not going to pretend this is the oldest candy bar I've ever eaten. I'm sure I've had my fare share of elderly snacks from vending machines at out-of-the-way rest stops and gas stations. I even make a point of hunting through the discount bin at truck stops in hope of finding chocolate bargains that have passed their expected shelf life.

What's so unique about this candy bar is that I didn't even notice it was old until looking at the inner foil after I finished eating. The critical among you are no doubt preparing to attack my fitness as a food critique, but I assure you the chocolate was moist and the wafers crispy

It wasn't at all like some of the geriatric Baby Ruth and Hershey Cookies 'n Cream bar's I've picked up in the past. You see, Baby Ruth chocolate tends to dry out as it ages, while the Cookies 'n Cream bars take on a denser, syrupy composition. The Crunch Crisp barely changed. In retrospect I'd say it was bit harder to bite into than its juvenile brethren, but that's about it.

In a few more hours we'll know for sure if this candy bar truly defied the clock. So far things look promising: I'm not dead yet.

And I received a small insight into meal time after the zombie apocalypse wipes out our food supply lines. I know I'll be placing the Nestle Crunch Crisp on top of my shopping list as I pick through long-abandoned convenience stores

The Ched 'R' Peppers SuperSonic Cheeseburger Combo: Sonic bounces back

Foodies, you may recall my less-than-stellar feelings toward the fare at Sonic drive-ins.

A year ago I drove away from my first Sonic experience profoundly disappointed in the quality of the food. The drinks were delicious, but anything you had to chew wasn't worth writing home about. My tots were bland, my Texas toast wasn't toasted and my burger hardly dripped with flavor.

Today I'm happy to tell you that a recent trip to Sonic left me with a much more satisfied stomach. I ordered a limited-time-only Ched 'R' Peppers SuperSonic Cheeseburger Combo and was delighted with the results.

The Ched 'R' Peppers burger boasts a more harmonious flavor than its disjointed name implies. Sonic takes a cheeseburger, adds two deep-fried peppers and ties it together with some chipotle mayo. It's zesty rather than spicy, so those of you with an aversion to habanero-style heat need not shy away.

You should avoid the burger if you dislike cheese, because cheddar is everywhere. It blends with the mayo and can overpower other flavors on some bites, leaving the tongue tasting more salt than spice. Fortunately this is drive-in fare, so cheesiness is to be expected, rather than loathed.

The burger's beef was of so-so quality. Most of the flavor came from the fixings, and I can't say the meat ever came through with any strength. At least it wasn't dry, which can sink a burger faster than BP's stock price.

In summary we're looking at a very tasty burger with a few flaws -- four sporks out of five. And Sonic has redeemed itself.

DEWmocracy update: White Out won

This morning I'm preparing to write a brand-new full-length review for all you foodies out there. First I wanted to post a follow-up snippet to my DEWmocracy post of a few weeks ago. I'll make it short and sweet: White Out won.

The Squirt-esque Dew took home the gold with 44% of the vote, edging out fruit-punch-flavored Typhoon, which netted 40%. If you need to know the numbers for third place, limey Distortion managed just 16% of votes.

You may recall I lavished my endorsement on White Out. I'm not saying turn elections, but it does sound a bit like the Colbert Bump, doesn't it? (If you don't know what the Colbert Bump is, you haven't been watching enough of the clever late-night show on Comedy Central. If you don't know what the Colbert Report is, you probably don't care about DEWmocracy anyway.)

M&M's meet pretzels

Remember Crispy M&M's? They were a little larger than the traditional variety and each chocolate morsel was stuffed with a piece of puffed rice. Biting into them elicited a satisfying crunch and a decent flavor.

They were introduced in blue bags just before the turn of the millennium, when I was but a wee middleschooler with a juvenile-esque eye for junk food. And they quickly became one of my favorite vending machine buys.

Sadly, they are no more on American shores. I haven't seen Crispy M&M's in the United States for years, although I could have sworn I ran across a bag or two when I was in the United Kingdom in the fall of 2007.

Because of this departure from the New World, my fancy M&M cravings have had to be satisfied by the always-stalwart peanut variety and the delectable-but-rare peanut butter style. While those are good, they lack a certain crunch.

Today I'm ecstatic to report that M&M's brought the crunch back, albeit not with puffed rice. Instead new Pretzel M&M's have hit the shelves, and they pack some serious munching satisfaction.

Pretzel M&M's are jumbo-sized, hovering somewhere near the girth of the gargantuan Wild Cherry M&M's I reviewed a few years back. They have a generous portion of pretzel wrapped in a thin layer of chocolate and topped with the traditional mouth-melting candy coating. It's an oh-so-satisfying package with a hint of pretzel salt that works amazingly well.

I am, however, a bit surprised by the pretzel-to-chocolate ratio. This candy is more like M&M-coated pretzels than pretzel M&M's. I'll admit more chocolate would probably bury the pretzel's flavors and textures, but it's still surprising to bite into M&M's with so little cocoa. It's a good change, though -- one that makes an exciting experience out of bagged candy, which is too-often dull.

Pretzel M&M's have one major drawback: thirst. I'm not sure a bag of candy has ever left me in need of a tall glass of milk quite as much as these nuggets did.

Eating chocolate always leaves you a little thirsty, a function of all the sugar. And pretzels are notorious for sponging all the saliva from your jaws. Combine them with a hard candy shell that leaves a sweet "quench me" undertone on the palate, and you have the makings of a severe drink shortage.

It's enough to bump Pretzel M&M's down to four sporks out of five. If they were packaged with a carton of milk, they'd be the perfect product. As they stand now, they're a very good candy that middleschoolers and adults should be able to recall fondly in ten years.