I have something to say. Here it is:

I am a Sucker.

Yes, a sucker. Maybe an unintentional, half-baked or day-old sucker, but a sucker nonetheless.

I reminisce. I nostaligicize. I ponderificate. I make up words. I think back to the Day.

Back to the Day when you had to be a nerd kid to use a computer. (Commodore 64 programmer, thank you very much. 40 characters across the screen was a luxury. Run-stop Restore that bizatch.)

The things you did in your wee moo-cow childhood dayz will always float to the surface like Dexter’s trash-bagged, hacksawed body parts in the bay.

Ok, maybe that’s going too far. Especially when talking about meat products.

We used to eat Hormel Corned Beef Hash on camping trips. This fleshy, fattening substance, studded with Rubik’s Cube corner chunks of potatoes was the highlight of breakfast. Fried up crispy and usually with scrambled eggs, this kind of corned beef hash reminds me of our clunky, yet reliable, motorhome. If you can believe it, my parents still have the SAME motorhome from the early 80s rusting in back of their house. The floor of the motorhome still smells faintly of motorbike dust and packets of Lipton instant cream of chicken soup.

I absolutely think Hormel knows that I’m a Sucker for old timey meat-in-a-can. I think they’re watching me from a spy satellite orbiting the Earth. Like that Simpsons episode. They have special punch cards in their satellite (yes, they use punch cards in case they need to burn the incriminating evidence) that contain food preference data on every single American citizen. I think they sent word to their flunkies on Earth that I was due for a corned beef purchase and thusly they moved quicky to place their product in the aisle I was walking down last week.

I am not paranoid, he sayeth as he dons his foil hat.

Corned Beef Hash in a can is an interesting experience. I’ve earlier reviewed Hartford House Corned Beef and if memory serves me correctly I didn’t like it very much. I wish I had a can of that to test side by side with the Hormel variety today, to see if my old score still stands up. Because I’m wondering just how different it can be from the Hormel variety.

Incidentally - who the hell is Mary Kitchen? I know Hormel has been around since 1891, and Mary Kitchen has been around since 1949. But I’m not sure when Hormel bought the brand. I’m trying to think back to the 1980s and remember if the old cans had the Mary Kitchen name on it. Strange, I don’t seem to recall it. I’m sure old fart out there will remind me. Or a new fart would be fine, someone who thinks that he knows stuff because he can read Wikipedia.

Back to the corned beef hash - I’m actually a pretty big fan of this stuff as a special occasion treat. I wouldn’t eat it more than a few times a year. If you do decide to take a trip down memory lane, or if you’re a newcomer to the wonderful world of canned meaty products, I would suggest you do NOT go and smell the unfried stuff straight out of the can. That would be unwise.

You just put it in a frying pan, flatten it slightly, and let it crisp up. I don’t really put oil in it, I just use a nonstick pan. Flip it once and then crack some eggs onto or around it. The best part is the crispy edges, so make sure it’s really flattened. Some people dislike the little Rubik’s Cube potato chunks, but I find that they actually go well with the corned beef. If that’s not enough potato for you, cut up some baked potato from the day before, fry that ahead of time, and then just add it in.

Hormel Corned Beef has a sort of roasty taste to it, but I’m not sure if that’s not from me nearly burning it to get the crispy edges. I paid over $2 for my 15 ounce can, but I think that it’ll occasionally go on sale. Like I said before, it’s not something I’d eat every day, but it’s worthwhile to pick up a can for the pantry. (Do you hear that, Hormel Sky-Watchers? I’m going to buy some more cans, so you better go put them on sale soon.)

And all you dieting nay-sayers out there will be glad to know that they have a “reduced fat” variety. If you still feel guilty, throw some veggies in there for god’s sake. Work with me here, people.

Price: $2.35 for 15oz
Found At: Fresh & Easy
Cheap Eats Score: 7/10

[Editor’s Note: Unfortunately, I never learned how to solve the Rubik’s Cube. I think I could’ve done it if I applied myself, but for some reason, the instructions my friend photocopied for me didn’t make any sense. So instead, I learned an ancient, time-honored secret method to solve it: it’s called the Screwdriver…]

Stop the presses.

Hear ye, hear ye.

Po-tee-weet. And other such flatulent remarks.

You say you want a revolution. Well, you know, we all just want some Bugles.

I keep typing Buggles instead of Bugles. Buggles is an infinitely (as x approaches the snack axis) better name because it doth rhyme with “Fuggles” (and also, “Ruggles“, may they spoof the Beatles in peace who I apparently have confused with the Rutles). But I will let it slide.

I will let it slide because I’m just that type of guy. Actually, “Bugles” seem tangentially related to flatulence as well, so all’s well that ends well. Bugles, as in the cavalry musical instrument, go “toot-toot”. Toot de Sweet. Chitty chitty bang bang we’ve come full circle in less time it takes for Lindsay Lohan to get another arrest warrant.

Ex-squeeze me, I have just wasted 3 minutes of your time. Sorry.

So then, just what is going to be the “meat” of this review? That juicy, carnivorous nugget of off-colour humour that keeps people bellying up to the erratically published Cheap Eats review bar?

Well, I took some pictures of the words on the packaging, and I’m going to make fun of them.

After all, for most products like Bugles, this is just another attempt to re-package the over-surplus of subsidized corn that farmers in Iowa (sorry, Iowans, I actually like your state, especially the Corn Palace but don’t know anything about it) have to deal with. So, the most important thing about Bugles is the packaging. Right?

Actually, that is not exactly true. Bugles and I (Bugles and me?) go back many, many years. We’re fricken bed buddies. Back then, when it wasn’t a heinous sin to put hydrogenated oil and god knows what else into these snacks, I used to really look forward to eating a handful of Bugles. Oh, the shape seems the same today, and the taste is pretty much the same. It’s whatever fat that they used to use in copious amounts that really made me excited about a bag of Bugles.

I used to take a Bugle, stick it on my tongue, and wait for the fat to seep into my taste buds. It was a really interesting experience - you started to feel your tongue get COLD. I suspect you’ll get the same effect by putting a scoop of Crisco on your tongue, but don’t let your cardiologist know I told you about it.

It still works with modern Bugles, but I don’t seem to get as great an effect. Try it. It’s interesting and will keep you entertained while you wait for your cup-o-noodles to jell.

In the mean time, here are my observations in true picturesque form.

Ha ha ha ha ha. Ha. What a pointless pun. I guess they’ve never heard of Doritos before. Actually, Bugles look like dunce caps. Or worse.

Nice. I love the “better if used by” date expirations on certain products. As opposed to “best if used by.” It’s like they’re saying, “Hey, we’re on the same wavelength here, Cheap Eater. These will probably will taste better if you eat them by the date, but we know you’ll probably feel the need to keep them for years and years beyond the date. It’s no skin off our back, we just have to put this on the package because the FDA requires it.”

I don’t know about you, but if I’m a racecar driver, I’m not getting in a Cheerios car. Or a Hamburger Helper car. This is like asking [insert name of famous American football player here because I don’t know any] to wear a pink helmet and a ballerina tutu. You can’t pay me enough to do it.

I seriously still think that this would be 10 times more awesome if they would change the name to “Buggles“. Come on, who’s with me. I want to drive the Buggles car. It’s a sweet ride.

I’ve always wanted to write into companies who DON’T put this disclaimer on the box and complain about being confused about the size of the snacks on the packaging. I would write that I was so excited that I would be getting 12 inch life size bugle-shaped snacks, because I’m a Civil War researcher looking into corn cakes shaped like bugles, and when they turned out to be only 2 inches long, my whole day was shot. I would drip fake tears on the letter and then send it in.

And so on.

Price: $1.00 for 5oz
Found At: Dollar Store
Cheap Eats Score: 7/10

[Editor’s Note: Hi. I’m curious about the reason Bugles make your tongue go cold like that. I never really looked into it, plus I’m not a nutritional anthropologist. Or someone with even half a lazy brain. I know they use coconut oil - does that make a difference? I guess I never really even tried it with other snacks, maybe it works with all chips like this.]

Hey.

If I had one word to describe this Fresh & Easy “Big” Lasagna With Meat Sauce, it would be:

lookspromisingbutsucks

But of course, I have more than one word at my disposal here. Therefore, I will say this:

You might recall that I’m a big Fresh & Easy fanboy. It’s just really convenient, and surprisingly cheap depending on what you get. However, I’ve had oodles of problems with their noodles. I mean their pre-packaged meals, specifically anything that has noodles and tomato sauce.

Earlier, I ragged (ragu-ed?) on their Spaghetti. I think one cause of the problem is that I always try to get these noodle meals at the 1/2 off price. If you can snag them at that price, they’re extremely reasonable. But they only offer them at the price when they’re about to expire, so they’ve been sitting around for awhile. And when you let noodles in sauce like that sit for a long time, bad things happen.

Bad, gluey things.

Their “Big” Lasagna has the same problems as the spaghetti, but in fact it’s worse because of the layered nature of the lasagna. In their defense, I’m not sure how they’d solve this issue. I also haven’t really tried the spaghetti-type meals when they haven’t been sitting around for more than a couple days. Maybe they’re better when they’ve just been made.

In any case, I ain’t expecting high end gourmet lasagna, or even something approaching Marie Callender’s. Just something palatable. This is a large amount of food - almost three pounds. If this was edible, two people would probably make at least 2 meals out of it. As it was, I had to toss it out because it sucked so badly.

The thing is - it actually looked VERY promising after I baked it in the oven. Geez, look at the picture. I figured it would come out better in a conventional oven than a microwave. Don’t bother wasting your gas. It’s just as bad, or worse.

A breakdown: The sauce is just “OK” - I still find it strange they put carrots in it, like their other tomato sauce meals. The melted cheese coverage on top leaves a little to be desired. Like more cheese. But it’s not a deal breaker.

The noodle texture is absolutely, positively horrible. It tastes like extruded wheat clay or playdoh. It has such a pasty texture that I can’t believe it. It also has a strange off-taste to it. I can’t really put my finger on it because it’s not really a “food” taste per se. (Scarier words have never been spoken!) It’s almost like a weird, bitter plastic bread taste.

The ricotta filling was doing anything for me either. I like ricotta cheese, so I thought that perhaps it would be a bright spot in an otherwise terrible meal. It tasted blah, and if anything, made the stickiness of the noodles worse. Major disappointment.

Lastly, for some reason there was a FISHINESS, a sorta seafood and ox-musk melange hovering around the entire meal. I don’t think this was because the food was near the expiration date. Actually, if it was because of that, I wouldn’t be as worried. I was just wondering what the heck that could possibly be.

That taste scared me a bit, so I stopped eating it after a couple of bites. Oops, $4 down the drain. Man, I haven’t had a pre-packaged lasagna that bad in awhile. For a better (and bigger) lasagna, I would think about getting the CostCo one, even at the much higher price. That one is light years better. I think you would also do much better with budget frozen lasagna meals if you’re concerned about cost.

I’m still wondering why F&E is so noodle challenged. I think it has a lot to do with me buying it from the bargain bin on the day it’s about to expire. At a MSRP of $8, I would rather go outside and graze on my lawn. At the cut rate of $4, it’s still not worth getting - although it did bump up the score to 2/10 just for sheer cheapness. I think I’ll stick to their other prepared foods for now.

Price: $4.00 for 2 lb 12oz. (MSRP $8)
Found At: Fresh and Easy
Cheap Eats Score: 2/10

For many years now, I’ve had this fantasy about writing an in-depth account of how one should go about eating Nattō. I was planning on putting forth a Fight Club - like listing of The Rules Of Eating Natto and then having a spirited discourse about its odorific dangers and surprising health benefits.

But for some reason, every time I tried to write it, I’d put it off. The psychological effect of describing fermented soybean consumption in gory detail was just too much to tackle.

So a few rules are as far as I got up till now.

And yes, there SHOULD be rules for eating natto. No, they’re not official and some may say they go against the true spirit of Natto consumption. Rule 1 is probably the most controversial. However, I swear by them. They lead to a more pleasant and efficient natto experience. I also have a few corollaries to the rules.

Here you are then, and so on…

The Rules of Eating Natto

1. You don’t mix your natto.
2. You don’t mix your natto.
3. When someone says stop, or goes limp, even if he’s just faking it, the natto eating is over.
4. Only two people per package.
5. One package of natto at a time.
6. They eat natto WITH shirts and napkins.
7. They only eat natto as long as they have to.
8. If this is your first time here, you have to eat the natto.

Natto Corollaries

0. Don’t smell the natto.
1. Don’t get it on your hands or clothes.
2. Before putting in mouth, they hold the natto still, letting the “strings” subside.
3. Natto crystals are tasty good.
4. Smaller beans are often more tender.
5. While eating natto, you don’t think of boogers, spit or Aliens (the movie)

Yes, Natto is some serious stuff. Because it doesn’t have a really bizarre look like Durian or a cool name like Lutefisk, it sort of lurks under the radar for weird Japanese foods. But oh, it’s weird all right.

To my knowledge, neither Anthony Bourdain nor Andrew Zimmern has not tried it yet. (Oops, I was informed that Bourdain has tried it, as described in his book. However, he did not write up Fight Club rules like I did.) Actually, the Zimmern camp told me that he hadn’t, but they weren’t sure. I heartily suggest they include these beans on their next trip to Japan.

OK, here is a confession. I grew up eating this stuff. It’s a tiny part of my Japanese heritage that still shines feebly through an Americanized life. Whenever people ask why I hate wasabi with a passion and avoid sashimi like the plague, I can just say - well, I eat Natto, so how about you give me a break. That said, I’m no expert in Natto. We just eat it at home occasionally.

To be truthful, there is probably a large segment of the Japanese population that HATES the stuff. I’m not going to speculate, but among the JAs here that I’ve asked, only about 1/3 will eat Natto. As far as Hakujin folks (white Americans) go, I think I know exactly two people who have tried it before. If you frequent sushi restaurants, you may have noticed a “Natto Roll” buried in the menu. I’ve never gotten it, so I’m curious what it looks like. I’ve only eaten it on top of rice. I’m told they also eat it on toast occasionally, like Vegemite.

Natto is Rotten, Smelly, Slimy Soybeans. You can call them “fermented” if you like. It still comes down to smelly beans at the end of the day.

It’s delicious.

They’re usually sold in small styrofoam boxes, three to a package due to the fear of the number four (ask me one of these days about the many ways my relatives’ fear of that number has inconvenienced my life). They usually, but not always come with two small condiment packets inside. One is a soy sauce type mixture and the other is yellow spicy mustard. They have different sizes of beans - we usually like to get the smaller ones because they seem more tender. The price seems to vary greatly - anywhere from 75 cents for 3 boxes to a couple bucks. But it’s usually cheap enough.

You can freeze natto packages, and they will usually come back fine after defrosting in the refrigerator for a day or two. The bean texture may not be as good, but it’s edible. We usually buy two 3-packs and put one in the freezer.

Now, as to the eating of Natto. Let’s go over some of the Rules from before. I’m pretty controverial (according to my mom and most articles about natto), but I never, ever stir the package up. Apparently, the more frothy and slimy that you can get the beans, the more rapturous of an experience you’ll have.

NOT.

Most people like to stir it up, but I like to disturb the beans as little as possible en route to my mouth. Let me back up a bit. Before eating a package of natto, you need to prepare your area. The problem with natto is not only the smell itself, but it’s stringy and slimy texture which tends to get all over the place ESPECIALLY if you’ve stirred the stuff up. So, I like to put a paper towel underneath the package and covering my placemat. I keep another two napkins handy. You might not want to wear your best clothes when eating the stuff as well. Or at least, plan to wash your shirt if you get natto goop on it.

Ok, so put your rice in a bowl, on the napkin as well. I prefer a larger soup style bowl instead of a smaller one because it decreases the mess. Open the natto package and bend the connected styrofoam lid back so it stays put. I chuck the yellow mustard, but you might like it (especially if you’re a Stirrer). The soy sauce flavoring packet usually improves things considerably. The top of the natto is “protected” from the lid by a thin sheet of plastic. Grasp a corner of that and pull it off slowly onto the styrofoam lid. See the slimy strings? Imagine that multiplied by 10 if you had stirred that up.

For me, controlled speed is the essence of good natto eating. You want to consume it carefully, but without dilly-dallying. The idea is to scoop up some natto carefully with chopsticks (or a fork, spoon, or spork). Before bringing it to the rice, let the strings subside. It’s pretty amazing how long they last. Place it on the rice, then use the chopsticks to scoop the undisturbed natto and some rice into your mouth. Don’t sit back and eat it - get your face over the bowl, for the love of god. Open your mouth as wide as possible, like you’re at the dentist. (You may want to listen to soft Top 40 music as well, it may help.) Sometimes, I skip the combination of rice and natto and just eat some natto first by itself, and then go for the rice. People who stir it up often like to dump the whole mess on top of rice. If you do that, you’re on your own.

I would seriously suggest you avoid sharing your natto package with others. This increases the tendency for smelly slime to get everywhere. This isn’t the type of thing you want to pass around the table for everyone to sample. But, if you must, two people can share one box. Just make sure you put napkins underneath the area.

Oh, so I guess one of the more important corollaries is NOT to smell the natto. I mean, just don’t go out of your way and put your nose right up to it. That Zimmern guy is cool, but he has the unfortunate habit of sticking his nose into whatever weird food he’s eating and taking a long whiff. I understand he wants the “full experience”, but think he’d be a lot less grossed out by some of the food if he just ate it instead of inhaling it. Anyhow, trust me, just eating natto is enough of an experience. I’ll save you the trouble of smelling it - it smells like ammonia mixed with stinky cheese and toejams. Yum!

I’ve heard that some people are more disturbed by the “slimy” texture of natto than the smell. It’s hard to describe without saying the texture is like loogies. The closest common food item I can think of is the inside of an okra pod. That slime is almost the exact same texture. Now imagine a slimy, smelly okra pod. Again, if you don’t stir the natto up, you’ll have less of that slimy texture.

One of the weird things about natto are the tiny crystal formations that sometimes appear. Yes, crystals. Not every package of natto has them, but I actually find them pleasant, adding a bit of crunch. I’m not sure if this is mold, bacteria action, or what, but it’s interesting (and I hope, not bad for you). Again, if you stir it up, you’re not going to notice the crystals that much. The taste of natto by itself is difficult to describe, since it’s colored by the soy sauce package or mustard. It has a slight bitter tinge to the bean taste.

You might be wondering why some people eat this if it’s such a smelly, slimy proposition. There are supposed to be a whole host of health benefits, which I won’t get into. I just like the art of Eating of Natto as an experience. It really feels like you’re going into battle. With chopsticks a-ready. I don’t expect you’ll like it, but you should at least give it a try one of these days.

[Editor’s Note: I hope that y’all know my natto paranoia is in jest. Well, sort of. One other tip: after eating natto, you may want to switch out your bowl for a new one. Natto tends to “contaminate” other foods with it’s taste, smell and slime. Also, I usually wash my mouth right afterwards. Wipe down the table and placemats. And don’t go kissing each other right after eating it…]

And now for something completely different.

I’ve been noticing that the ratio of post length to reward factor (i.e. comments) for Cheap Eats is seriously whacked. The more time I spend going on and on about absolutely nothing important, the less fun comments and hate mail constructive criticism wrapped in internet anonymity I receive.

I never set out to be the squeaky mousewheel that gets the gets the grease.

But after this long and winding road which has run five years, you’ll find I like to complain every so often.

I consider complaining my “just rewards”. An inalienable right that tends to alienate readers. Compensation for providing dense thickets of stream of consciousness sentences surrounding a few blurbs about a company’s products, or a 3 Dollar or Less Recipe.

My complaint this time around is that it gets tiring to review Cheap Food all the time. Sometimes I want to review caviar or, god forbid, foie gras. Just to switch it up a bit. It’s difficult to get companies to send this kind of stuff, however, to a website called “Cheap Eats”.

Not that I would ever accept such products for review since that would be an ethical conflict of interest. (*Ahem*, speaking loudly into the mic provided by FBI)

It’s actually quite amazing how much flame broiled email constructive criticism wrapped in internet anonymity I’ve gotten for writing about even normally priced foods. My idea was that I could review expensive or medium-priced products, because of course I’d take the cost into account in the overall score.

It hasn’t really turned out that way. I’ve sort of gotten pushed into the corner of cheap food, 24-7. Instant Ramen and Cheese Wiz beating me up in the ring, and it’s round 13. I suppose some of that is my fault, since I’ve said since the beginning that the blog will be about Cheap Food, minus all considerations of health, taste and general hygiene. So that’s what people expect.

I thought perhaps I’d try and branch out to other cheap products with the Cheaplander website, to make things more interesting. That hasn’t really panned out - mostly because I just don’t have the time and energy that others have to really pour into another site. But it’s also because the number of blogs vying for attention these days makes it hard to get an audience. (Incidentally, I’m seriously weighing whether to keep Cheaplander going. It’s that “work to reward” factor again.)

And I constantly find myself driven back to Cheap Eats, my little haven of nonsensical food reviews and recipes. Even trapped in the Cheap corner, I really do enjoy writing up a wacky “product review”, even if only a few people read it.

But enough about me, you came here for a review. Here it is:

These Snack Worx “Original” Corn Chips look like Fritos™.

They taste like Fritos™.

They taste, in fact, less oily and fatty tasting than normal Fritos™.

This is, in general, a good thing.

However, they taste just as salty as normal Fritos™.

That is, in general a bad thing.

The kicker is that 12 ounces for $1 is pretty darn cheap.

That is, in general, the best thing.

Therefore, I recommend this product if you are seeking a Fritos™ type of experience but do not have much cash on hand.

I am done, stick a farking fork or chopstick in me.

Price: $1.00 for 12 oz.
Found At: Fresh & Easy
Cheap Eats Score: 7/10

[Editor’s Note: Normal people may read this blog and wonder how it is possible that I do not currently inhabit an insane asylum. Let me tell you, chief - hospital rooms have really great WiFi connection these days…]

I like Macaroni and Cheese.

I also like eating a nice package of rotten beans every so often.

In other words, you should not trust me. Everything I say, or do, is suspect. Call the National Guard, or at least Alton Brown’s food police. Hide your women, your children and your sweaty, foot-long kielbasas.

Nothing will save you, no one will come to your aid if you scream while I force feed you a whipped cream out of a can and slap you silly with slabs of Spam.

Oh, excuse me - wrong blog.

I’ve reviewed Mac ‘n Cheese box products before, such as the generic Albertson’s brand of Macaroni and Cheese. What strikes me the most about re-reading that review is NOT the extent to which I debased myself with junk food, but how far I’ve come (or sunk) as far as helpful reviews and posts go. Wow, what was I thinking back then? Or, perhaps, what the hell am I thinking now? No wonder I get hate mail from older fans of Cheap Eats…

Well, for some reason I’ve never reviewed the Easy Mac variety of the Kraft Macaroni and Cheese products. Let’s be honest - there isn’t going to be too much difference between the normal Mac ‘n Cheese you cook on the stove and this little cup of Mac ‘n Cheese. I guess the main difference is you get to avoid washing a pot, and you get to throw away the styrofoam cup in the landfill.

I’m just going to say right now that I AM the stupid type of sucker consumer who will buy this little cup of microwave Mac ‘n Cheese that costs 80 cents when I could be getting a full box of Mac ‘n Cheese for 25 to 35 cents. I AM that idiot, and that is why you should not trust anything I say dinosaurs were killed by asteriods.

But you know, my impulsive buy finger had already triggered and the little tubby was in my cart. Oh well. Actually, what I was most interested in was whether or not microwaving the noodles would be the same as cooking it on the stove.

I’m pleased to report that it pretty much turns out the same. The sauce consistency and taste was nearly identical. I microwaved it for 4 minutes as opposed to 3.5 because my nuker is notoriously sluggish. Maybe because of that extended time, the noodles were slightly less firm than usual. But in all other respects, it tasted identical.

It’s sorta nice, also, to be able to nuke and eat this in front of your sexy single co-workers. “Look at me,” you’ll say. “I’m so confident in my social life that I can eat this in front of you all.” Instead of eating it while sitting at home on a Friday night in the bathtub like you usually do.

Now, I’d guess one good thing about having a smaller container is portion control. Overweight America, rejoice! This is truly a “snack” as opposed to a full meal. I snarfed it in about a minute. Having a smaller size is probably a good thing considering the crud that goes into the sauce. However, I know some people really enjoy turning their tongues and faces bright radioactive orange. And you can only do that after you eat cups and cups of the stuff, preferably without a spoon.

I’m trying to think of what else to say. But you know what, there’s pretty much nothing else: Instant microwavable macaroni and cheese cups, on the expensive side compared with the normal boxes.

Ok, well, I HAVE heard that there is a worldwide conspiracy among the Tubular Bells rebel alliance to take over the world by releasing hordes of tubular bell shaped instant pasta laced with 6th level wizard Geas-virus spells. But, remember, you didn’t hear it from me.

Price: $0.79 for 2.05 oz.
Found At: Fresh & Easy
Cheap Eats Score: 4/10

[Editor’s Note: I swear I do not have a cassette tape copy of Mike Oldfield’s Tubular Bells, and that I didn’t listen to it over and over again in high school when I really should have been listening to New Kids On The Block]

Dear Candy Fiends … I mean Freaks … I mean Froods … I mean Friends.

Yes, that’s it.

Dearest Candy Friends,

Please don’t get mad at me when I say that the most interesting thing about these Yogurt Dots to me was the fun open/close boxspout. To be honest, the only reason I picked up this movie-sized box for a buck at the Dollar Store was for the novelty factor. That and I thought maybe I would finally get to review a candy that no one had tried before.

Not so, as reviewers like Candy Addict and others have already written up their opinions. Ah well, you snooze you booze.

As I was saying the most interesting thing to me about the candy was the box, which has a closeable spout that folds shut like farking origami or something. This blew my mind. You can tell I don’t eat candy too often. It’s like that episode of Spongebob where Patrick and he order a giant screen TV just so they can play with the box. Not that I ever watch Spongebob, or relate to his spong-i-ness (though I feel rather holy at times), or aspire to be the greatest Crabby Patty Fry Cook in the world, or put up posters of Gary the Snail on my wall.

No, no. I’m completely Absolutely Normal. In fact, you can call me Ab-Normal, ey?

Come on, keep up here.

If memory serves me correctly, my first encounter with Tootsie’s Dots was not while watching Dustin Hoffman, but giving my young molars the workout of their lives while watching people get chomped by sharks. You might be wondering what I was doing watching Jaws at that young age. All I know is that I wished I had serrated mofo teeth like Mr. Jaws, because those Dots were harder than hell.

So, I was sort of expecting these Yogurt Dots to necessitate multiple trips to the dentist. Instead, it seems they’ve gotten all soft and squishy on me. They taste (and look) more like a sugarless gumdrop. I’m sort of glad for the new softness, but they have a bad habit of clinging to your teeth. Again, I’m not a candy eater so I don’t know - maybe you’re supposed to swallow them whole? Wait… gaghg. Nope, scratch that idea.

There were five “flavors” in the box. I only know what they are because it’s written on the box: Strawberry, Banana, Orange, Blackberry and Lemon-Lime. Let’s be truthful here. The average, non-zen candy eater would probably not be able to tell what they were. It’s kind of like the descriptions on wine labels that read “hint of cherry plum dingbats with pinecone needle floral notes.” The flavors tasted more like Red #40, Yellow-ish Orange, Orangey Orange, Grape and Green. To be fair to them, when you’re putting these your mouth in the theatre and chewing them up, I think you’ll be paying more attention to the sharks eating naked bathers on the screen than whether the purple flavor is grape or blackberry.

Actually, I confess when I ate them slowly - as in less than one every 2 seconds - I COULD make out the flavors. I guess it’s true that I should stop and chew my food. Thanks, mom.

The yogurt part of the dots was actually quite pleasant, in a sour-ish milk kind of way. In fact, it actually kept me eating nearly half the box while watching all those Spongebob re-runs. Not.

The price at the dollar store is decent for the large amount of Dots that you get. I dunno how much a box like this would run at the movies, but I heartily suggest that my guy friends sneak the box into the theatre in your pants. Just tell them you have a Spongebob Squarepants medical condition. (Gals, you’ll never know how lucky you are to have a purse.)

In conclusion, I could think of hundreds of other uses for these Yogurt Dots besides eating them. Earplugs or nipple enhancers come to mind. But because I’m a completely Ab-Normal person, I would suggest you simply put them in your mouth and chew them while watching man-eating sharks chew on delicious, delicious people. Yum.

Price: $1.00 for 8.5 oz.
Found At: Dollar Store
Cheap Eats Score: 6/10

[Editor’s Note: I do NOT like Spongebob Squarepants. I do NOT like Spongebob Squarepants. I do NOT like Spongebob Squarepants. I DO NOT like Spongebob Squarepants. Oh all right, I watch it occasionally…]