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.

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.”

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.

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

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:

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.

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.

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.”

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.)

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

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.]

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…]