Cheap Eats at Bloglander

Your guide to eating cheap including tips, recipes and techniques

Archives for Snacks



[ Currently Eating: A Cup of World Cup ]

Pringles

These Pringles cost 35 cents.

I hit Big Lots the other day in order to try to get back to my “roots”: Cheap, close-to-expiring salty snacks that are the reason America is fat. By the way, did I mention I’ve put on a couple of pounds lately? This is amazing, because in the past I’ve had trouble keeping the weight on. I was smug like a bug whenever people talked about their ever increasing gut bulge.

I’ve increased one pant size in my waist, but These Pringles cost 35 cents.

As I walked down the aisle, a blushing groom ready to get married to whatever junk food under a buck that I could spot, my mind raced as I thought about all those earlier cheap one night junkfood stands. Like Ms. free chips from the dumpster? Check. We had a good romp in bed, Dumpster Chips and I.

But I was looking for something flashy, yet dignified. You know, something that you could bring on your arm at the next Amanda Bynes retirement party.

Amanda Bynes should buy some of These Pringles, which cost 35 cents and sprinkle them all over herself. That’s hot.

I like looking at the “sucker” racks at the end of the aisles in stores like Big Lots. The store management thinks they’re pulling a fast one on me by foisting Little Debbie Orange Zebra Cakes on me. Little do they know, little do they of pea-sized brains know… muhahaha

Those Debbie cakes were not 35 cents. Unfortunate. But These Pringles DID cost 35 cents.

I thought it was a typo at first, but those orange clearance stickers cannot tell a lie. George Washington ate Pringles, by the way. I’m surprised Proctor & Gamble hasn’t used that fact to their advantage in advertising campaigns.

Cherry trees do not cost 35 cents, but These Pringles cost 35 cents.

I actually found 3 different varieties (the exact flavors escape me right now) of Pringles for 35, 45 and 65 cents. I’ve no idea why they rotate the prices around like that for essentially identical pseudo-potato chips. Probably something to do with the expiration date. I actually bought all three types, but settled on these Sweet Mesquite BBQ chips for the review.

Pringles

I think that was probably a mistake to go out with the Sweet Mesquite BBQ. While we did do some tongue-action – wait, what? Come now, you must know by now that tongue-action is a perfectly normal activity with all Pringles. You know you do it. Pringles have a perfect curve that allow you to stick your tongue in so it fondles all that (less than 50%) potato-ey goodness. Oh baby, yeah – ride on my tongue.

That was racy. 35 cents worth of racy, that is. Pringles, they do cost. Go you must, now, to the next paragraph.

Man, Yoda should’ve taught Luke to use The Force with Pringles. But I don’t think they sold them on Dagobah. They don’t use money there, after all (they use Jedi Credits), so you wouldn’t be able to head down to the Dagobah Big Lots and spend 35 cents on them.

Yes, I’m getting weary too.

OK. The flavoring on these 35 cent Mesquite BBQ Pringles was very pungent, kind of like a 35 cent bottle of barbeque sauce. If I had 35 cents, and bus fare cost 35 cents, I would take the #35 bus first to Big Lots and buy 35 cans of these 35 cents Pringles. Then I would again take that #35 bus (because all buses around here have the number 35 – how do you tell which is going where? Use The FORCE Luke…) to 35th street in Los Angeles and set up an illegal Pringles stand (or two, or 35) and sell these Pringles, not for 35 cents, but for 70 cents.

70 cents is 35 cents times two. Come on, Use The FORCE already.

I guess if these were normally priced, I would not get them again. And the score would be much lower. They’re just too sweet for me, and I’m used to salty or spicy Pringles. However, I couldn’t complain too much, because you know what they say:

These Pringles cost 35 cents.

Price: $0.35 for 6oz
Found At: Big Lots
Cheap Eats Score: 7/10

3/30/10 | Wasa Crispbread


[ Currently Eating: Whassup Wasa ]

Wasa Wassup Whassup - Cheap Eats at Bloglander

Whassup.

Yes, I did buy this Wasa Crispbread entirely for its moniker’s resemblance to the catchphrase from that outdated, archaic, so-1999 commercial filled with telephonically challenged idiots who look sort of (but not exactly) like your brother’s inebriated dog’s girlfriend’s owner. I do things like that.

I also smell my armpits. Hmm… Oniony.

You see, the other day I was at Whole Foods.

Wait, back up there Mr. Moneybags. You were at Whole Foods, the mortal enemy of Cheap Eaters around the land? Don’t get me wrong, I like a little expensive toejam tofu now and then. But for the most part, I stay out of Yuppiefoodville. (Incidentally, Sandra Tsing Loh of the Loh Life has a sort of funny series called
“Escape From Whole Foods”
.)

What’s the negative of slumming? I don’t have a word for it, but let’s call it “riching”. Every so often I like to go riching it up: rolling down the aisle, eating Parmigiano-Reggiano and sippin on merlot and Reed’s Ginger Ale. With my mind on my money and my money on my mind.

I usually don’t buy anything, merely limiting my interaction with the soccermoms and yogamasters to surreptitiously sampling the cheese platters. Sometimes I can make about 3 rounds before the cheesemonger calls security.

But this time I was stopped in my tracks in the cracker aisle. Excuse me, the crispbread aisle. There are no crackers here – only ryebread, crispbread, bagel chips, melba toast and dehydrated dollar bills. I saw these Wasa Crispbread crackers and though, “Dang, that would make a nice easy review. Just look at the name. Whassup.”

But at $3.29 a pack of crispbread (I actually can’t find the receipt but I know it was at least 3 bucks) this would set me back almost an entire meal or so. So, I headed back out to the car and dug underneath the seat to see if I could find any change. No, of course I’m just jerking your chain – I actually whipped out my bright and shiny American Express card and paid for that bad boy box of crispbread with a single swipe. Damn, that felt good.

But when I got home, I found much of the Whassup magic had evaporated. Would most people who read this blog even remember that commerical? What, they were like 8 years old? And more importantly, even though the ad campaign had been inducted into the CLIO hall of fame, would anyone WANT to remember it. Was I opening up a whole can of whoopass worms that would come back to bite me in the form of commenters who tell me to please jump in a boiling vat of Velveeta cheese? Would people hate me for reminding them of their brother’s inebriated dog’s girlfriend’s owner? Would the castaways on Lost ever finally get off the stupid island?

In the end, I decided to go with it – mostly because of the stunning appearance of these crispbread crackers. A lot to talk about there. Have you ever seen a cardboard box disassembled into 12x6cm rectangles, covered with glue and then sprinkled with sawdust shavings left over from chainsawing a barn door in half? If you have (and I know you have), then this is what Wasa looks like.

Wasa Wassup Whassup - Cheap Eats at Bloglander

I had a large corn on my foot, but I used a slice of Wasa to grind it down to a manageable nubbin.

And so on.

Seriously, the crispbread does look rather woodchippy. Or rather, as more people would say, it looks rather healthy. That never stopped me from putting someting in my mouth, so I went ahead and jammed it up between the choppers.

Bit of a mistake. Slicing up eyeballs, ow ow ow ow. You have to be sort of careful eating these things, but then a lot of these healthy crackers are like that. The look and taste sort of reminded me of Ryecrisp, though I haven’t had those for umpteen years. If your teeth aren’t so good, you might want to opt for something softer. Either that, or soak these in milk first. Or bacon fat.

I suspect things could get really delicious-er if you added grilled chicken, lettuce and curls of parmesan cheese as they suggest on the photo on the front. Then again, if you add grilled chicken, lettuce and curls of parmesan cheese onto a 12x6cm rectangle of cardboard, I think I could probably choke that down.

Incidentally, long ago I attempted to eat a small square of cardboard on a dare. The ex-friend assured I was going to get in the Guinness Book of World Records or something. I did not get in. However, I did feel like a termite for just a little while.

Cardboard resemblance aside, these crackers are ok. A bit dry, but I bet they would be great with some sort of spread on top. I have a problem with paying over 3 bucks for it though. If it wasn’t for that momentary Whassup weakness, I never would’ve brought them home. I considered going back to Whole Foods and returning the opened package. But that cheesemonger – ah, he’s got his eye on me.

Price: $3.29 for 9.7 oz
Found At: Whole Foods
Cheap Eats Score: 4/10


[ Currently Eating: Iguana Lot Of Money ]

Mac N Cheese Hot Dog - Cheap Eats at Bloglander

Before you blurt out, “What is this godforsaken malarkey,” I would like to assure you that this kind of things does not NOT happen very, very often.

In a perfectly sane, normal world, I wouldn’t be eating this.

However, as we’ve come to realize, this is not a perfectly sane, normal world. In fact it is such an imperfectly insane, abnormal world that anything can happen. Wonderful times. Wonderful times, don’t you agree?

That is how I came to be ingesting a Macaroni and Cheese Hot Dog the other day.

Oh, it was a perfect storm all right. Leftover macaroni and cheese, hot dog buns and an open pacakge of lonely Oscar Meyer hot dogs. We don’t tend to have that combination all at once in our house. I took full advantage of it and made me a Mac-n-Cheese Dog with Habanero Tabasco sauce.

Pretty damn good. The hot sauce really kicks it up.

A notch, on my belt buckle, that is.

I had hoped to patent this macaroni and cheese hot dog, but I don’t have any money to do so.

Please send me some. Money, that is. And three cases of McCutcheon whiskey.

Thank you, and so on.

2/9/10 | Pizza Bites


[ Currently Eating: Rainy Day Coffee ]

Pizza Bites - Cheap Eats at Bloglander

I’m in a charitable mood this morning.

That’s right. What I’m going to do right now, right here and now, is NOT wankle around. Wankling – that would be a word that’s a literary bastardization of my own creation. No, nothing to do with a Wankel engine, whatever that is.

Here is my definition. “To wankle” is to veer off topic while writing in a manner that causes surrounding readers to stutter-step and bleed resulting boogers out of their noses. The text created by such a wankler has been the downfall of many an innocent office wanker. Sorry, I mean worker.

That’s how I normally start a review – by wankling around. Wankling, while humorous at times, is not very conducive to the creation of a robust and helpful product review. The review wankler is often so caught up in his own wankling (no, not wanking, you pervs) that he doesn’t realize that he’s not talking about the product in question until it’s almost time to catch the latest episode of Days of Our Lives.

Companies hate reviews that wankle around, because they never quite get to the point of praising their product. To be sure, if the wankler has wankled in a truly artful way, it’s possible to keep readers around until the wankler finally gets bored of wankling and starts talking about the product.

Now, I’m happy we live in a glorious modern age where wanklers are free to wankle (or even winkle, by God) without the fear of persecution. In the old days, if you dabbled in wankling too frequently, you were liable to be strung up with all the other wanklers on a telephone pole line. Or at least fired from your editorial job. Still, the crafty wankler will always keep his wankling somewhat on the down-low. You know, people start to talk: “Did you read the latest product review on Cheap Eats? Man, that wankler is really off his wonker this time. I think we should turn him in to the feds.”

Pizza Bites - Cheap Eats at Bloglander

That’s right, I’m just going to talk about the product. No messy wankling around. See these are Pizza Bites. See, I could’ve come up with endless funny insults about how “These Pizzas Bite”. And so on. That would definitely become the bulk of the review. But no, homie don’t play that today. It’s just me, you and Pizza Bites. Yep, that’s all there is. Straight as an arrow. Clean as a whistle. It won’t make you sad, like other things.

Why, just the other day, I was thinking about how sad it is that most people never get to visit Alaska. Alaska is a great place to visit, a great wild country full of fun things. Lots of polar bears. Haha, made you wikipedia. Yeah, I KNOW there’s no polar bears in Alaska. Polar bears grow on islands in the middle of the Pacific Ocean.

Pizza Bites - Cheap Eats at Bloglander

What I like about Alaska, should I choose to visit one day before I die (I’m assured this is NOT their official slogan, but hey, why not?), is that the soil is composed of teeny tiny toasters. Quite handy to just reach down and grab a miniaturized toaster when you need it. These toasters, while obviously handy in case you have miniaturized your muffins a la Fantastic Voyage, will also cook up miniaturized Pizza Bites. Except, you don’t really need to miniaturize your pizza bites, since they’re so small already.

That was lame. What I really need are some miniature polar bears. I would put them in a shoebox, call up Conan O’Brien, and tell him “God damn do I have a hot ticket to the top for you, brotha.”

But seriously, Sarah Palin ain’t all she’s cracked up to be. For instance, I bet she wouldn’t know how to cook these Pizza Bites, bears or no bears. I tried making them in my Alaskan toaster, and I didn’t have much luck. I made two separate batches of them, and both exploded all over the foil I’d thoughtfully placed on the rack. I baked up the first batch at 425F for about 10 minutes. The second batch, I did at the same temperature but for only 8 mintues. I still had 2 out of the bunch explode on me. Maybe my old school toaster is too powerful. Or maybe it’s only meant for Baked Alaska.

I’m wondering if, instead of baking them in the oven, I should’ve instead hired a polar bear chef to deep fry them for me. You just can’t have enough deep-fried-ness. Plus, it’d be nice to have a hairy paw in the kitchen.

The crust on these bites was surprisingly good. A bit crispy and chewy at the same time. I don’t even want to guess the types of things they put in there to make it taste like that.

In general, the filling was paste city. Tomato based, a bit on the salty side, but not the worst I’ve had. There were all sorts of unidentifiable objects in the filling. After reading the ingredient list, it became apparent these were miniscule chunks of pepperoni and both real and fake mozzarella cheese. There’s also parmesan cheese in there. But don’t get too excited. My polar bear friend tells me there’s more Beet Powder than Parmesan Cheese in these.

By now, you’re bored. And I’ve run out of wankling juice. So we’ll just cut to the chase. These pizza bites don’t necessarily bite. They do taste pretty accurately like really cheap frozen pizza. Frozen, like the frozen tundra of Alaska. However, with low grade frozen pizzas being so inexpensive, I’d probably spring for that instead. But the Bites were 99 cents for about 15 of them, so it didn’t break the bank. The novelty factor was also there, and if you were in a hurry, it might be faster than throwing a frozen pie in the oven.

I was going to say portability may be a consideration – it’s difficult to put a full size pizza under your arm and gallop off with the polar bears. But you know what, if the leakage on these things wasn’t just from my overpowered monstro-Alaskan toaster, portability ain’t going to be a possibility. Unless you like tomato paste ‘n cheese glue all over your clean white shirts.

[Editor's Note: I apologize to Alaska and Alaskans. The allusions and references to Alaska in this review are no doubt far-fetched and untrue. I haven't even been there yet, sadly. However, you must give me at least some props for not making more Palin jokes. That would be too easy. Like shooting polar bears in a barrel.]

Price: $0.99 for 7.5 oz
Found At: Fresh & Easy
Cheap Eats Score: 3/10

1/5/10 | Fruit Roll-Ups


[ Currently Eating: Tacos, Chile Rellenos and Rice Oh My ]

Fruit Roll Ups - Cheap Eats at Bloglander

Man, what a day.

I mean, man what a week. Hmm… let’s extend that to, man what a month. Man, what a year.

Man, what a life.

Et cetera, exaggerated and so on.

In case you haven’t noticed, I am very, very old. I once had a reader tell me that judging by the way I spake (speaked, spoke?) I was probably a 55 year old crotchety wizard living in his parent’s van down by the river, typing grumbly food review posts by day and selling Depeche Mode T-shirts to ex-New Wave disc jockeys by night.

I THINK he was being insulting, but to this day, I’m not sure.

He will never know how close he was to the truth. Actually, he’ll never know because I deleted his email, blocked his IP, ISP, erased his face. Excuse me, I mean erased his Facebook. Whatever that is.

But enough about trolls. Let’s get back to the heart of the matter, the kernel of the nugget of truth, lies and videotape.

And that is that yeah, I’ve been around for awhile. I remember Back In The Day™, we had these things called Fruit Roll-Ups. All these Johnny-come lately frou-frou fruity bogus bars make me laugh. Back In The Day, we actually had to harvest our fruit rollups from our brown paper lunch bags.

That’s right. Oh, it was hard times back yonder, moseying down through dusty playgrounds and school hallways. I remember a fellah, what was his name… I think it was Samson. Nice guy, but near dang didn’t make it through past recess. Had a jonesing for some Fruit Rollups, so he tried to harvest ‘em early from his sack. Teacher caught ‘im and strung ‘im up on the fence as an example. But we was always doin’ stuff like dat back in dem der days. And our rollups was all flat an’ simple-like. Plain fruit for plain folks. None of this Scoobie whatchee-callit printed on it.

Tough times, and so on.

But seriously, it’s been awhile since I’ve had Fruit Roll-Ups. I just remember that they seemed to show up in my brown bag lunches quite a bit. Before I go on, I just wanted to show everyone a pic again of my good friend “Better If Used By“, which appears on the new box:

Fruit Roll Ups - Cheap Eats at Bloglander

This still makes me laugh out loud. It makes me LOL, man. Or is that “Lots of Laughs”? Sorry, I failed BBS Abbreviation class Back In The Day. I also failed Leetspeak 101, though I did manage to figure out that 55378008 typed into a calculator actually meant something.

Fruit Roll Ups - Cheap Eats at Bloglander

These new fruit rollups are packed individually in a new-fangled metallic cellophane or mylar wrapper. I don’t know if it stays fresher that way, but it sure allows me to see a reflection of my aged and ancient face squished in disturbing, carnival-esque ways.

Fruit Roll Ups - Cheap Eats at Bloglander

A note to self and/or others: when they say “Peel from cellophane backing before eating,” what they reallly mean is “No one, not even Bryan, would make the mistake of forgetting to peel off the cellophane before eating, but just in case he is having an off day, let’s remind him.

Fruit Roll Ups - Cheap Eats at Bloglander

I think the size of these fruit rollups may have gotten just a little smaller. I don’t have one from the 1980s to compare it to, so I’m not sure. One thing that I definitely did not remember was just how many Pears exist in a Fruit Roll-up. This is somewhat disturbing, considering that these are “Strawberry” Fruit Roll-Ups. Also, there is no mention anywhere else on the packaging of pears, pear-like substances or pear shaped things. (By the way, try and google “pear shaped girl”. It is amazing how many non- Sissy Bar references are returned, since that is that only reason I know that phrase.)

Fruit Roll Ups - Cheap Eats at Bloglander

So I guess the biggest surprise is how these rollups are imprinted with edible ink featuring the likeness of fricking Scooby Dooooo. Don’t get me wrong. I dig him and his pot-smoking buddy Shaggy (I call him Scooby Doobie, hahahaha). But, Like Wow, I’m just surprised to see Scooby show up on my fruit roll-up, especially since there was no mention of him on the packaging. Not that I’m complaining. It’s all “Ro Kay!” to me.

I’d forgotten how sweet this stuff is. Kinda like dropping a few chunks of sugarcane into a glass of sugar water and then pouring in some sucralose. Or Stevia. Or whatever it is they’re using nowadays. No wonder I loved this stuff as a kid. We used to barter with Fruit Roll-Ups. “I’ll trade you my mint condition plastic R2D2 windup toy for your fruit rollup.” Guess who got the shite end of that deal…

I got a small pack of them with four roll-ups inside. I think this isn’t the typical number you get, but that’s what they had at the dollar store. Not too bad for a quarter each, I guess.

I have to admit, I didn’t find them as fun as I probably could have. Oh, I did try and stretch the fruit rollup and see if it would mold around my hand. Actually, I would like to make myself some hockey gloves out of fruit rollups. You see, they’re so sticky that they’d help me keep a hold of my hockey stick while being checked into the boards by all the goons that come after me since I’m a small 5’5″ defenseman with no slapshot.

Go Kings. And so on.

Price: $1.00 for 4 0.5 oz Rollups
Found At: Dollar Store
Cheap Eats Score: 5/10

10/19/09 | Bugles


[ Currently Eating: Leftovery Turkey Melty ]

Bugles Original Flavor - Cheap Eats at Bloglander

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.

Bugles Original Flavor - Cheap Eats at Bloglander

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.

Bugles Original Flavor - Cheap Eats at Bloglander

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.

Bugles Original Flavor - Cheap Eats at Bloglander

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.”

Bugles Original Flavor - Cheap Eats at Bloglander

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.

Bugles Original Flavor - Cheap Eats at Bloglander

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.

Bugles Original Flavor - Cheap Eats at Bloglander

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.]


[ Currently Eating: Bagels ]

Some Corn Chips Of Indeterminate Origin - Cheap Eats at Bloglander

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:

Some Corn Chips Of Indeterminate Origin - Cheap Eats at Bloglander

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...]




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