THE STIX BECKON.

Shape and Texture: They are stix goddamn it.  Like a thick cracker cut into some stix.  Stix.  Good god my spell check hates these stix.

Flavor: The chipotle pepper stix weren’t so bad.  They were spicy and a little bit salty, but the flavors were not bold enough for me.

Cinnamon Kick: Yes, technically this is also a flavor, but it was so fugging awful that it deserved its own category.  When you have a stick-type product that is covered in cinnamon, where does the mind travel?  Perhaps to a frosting-type substance one could dunk said sticks in?  I bit into this stix and spit it out.  My wife actually gagged her mouthful into the sink.  Salty and cinnamony, but kettle corn this is not.  There should be a warning on this flavor that screams audibly from the box, “I’M FUCKING SALTY!!!  I AM NOT A SUGARY TREAT.”

Consensus: Ranked from 0 being awful and 10 being fantabulous, I give Wheat Thins Stix a long-awaited and full-hearted 4.  In a market saturated with products that I can dunk into various dips, I just can’t help but feel that Wheat Thins Stix are rather redundant, and quite frankly, the Cinnamon Kick flavor tempted me to grade this product even lower.

Some of you crazy freaks LIKE fish and tacos. Give me a break and get out of my kitchen. Fish do not deserve the indignity of being wrapped in a tortilla. They should be lovingly gutted alive and eaten almost raw off of a sizzling frying pan in the middle of the Alaskan wilderness. Hyperbole aside, I hate fish tacos. What say you, So Good readers?

It’s obviously a ploy. A ruse. Forget the fact that most of our meat isn’t meat. Forget the fact that the myth of Taco Bell for most of my childhood was filled with stories involving maggot infestations at the meat stations. Just eat our tacos, dammit.

And I did. I ate those soft shell tacos by the dozen with heaps of fire sauce. Every weekend, in the middle of the week, and sometimes for breakfast (oh college, how I miss you). And this was me believing that there could be insects in the food. That is the power of relatively cheap fast food, fast food that also gains appeal because it doesn’t involve greasy burgers or fries.

The psychology of fast food tells me that when I’m eating a burrito it might actually be good for me. Hey, this thing has beans in it! It is not completely dripping with grease! And the meat isn’t gray! Coupled with a wealth of paper-like iceberg lettuce shreddings, one could posit that I was eating a Mexican salad rather than a simple burrito. Everyone knows that salads are good for you! SALADS!!!

My meandering point is this: Taco Bell, while I adore you for your cheap ways, you don’t need gimmicks like this to re-grow any kind of fan base. There will always be a new generation of young Americans, perhaps stoned, digging between their car seats to find that last quarter or dime, trying to make the dream of one last cheesey potato burrito before the night is over come true. So when your 88 cent Crunch Wrap deal dies quietly today, know that you still have one guy willing to spend five dollars to get two soft shell tacos, a little thing of cheesey potatos with the scallions on top, a crunchwrap with fire sauce and no soft drink please. Our love affair will never end.

This has been covered elsewhere, but Eick sent me some coupons for free burgers and I figured my colon could take the abuse. I also picked up a large Coke and medium fries to accompany the gargantuan Angus burger. On a side note, I had a test the next day so I wanted to see how well McDonald’s acted as a study aid.

Needless to say I felt like I was underwater after eating this thing. You could cut this burger in half and feed two people, which makes it an even value with the rest of their burgers.

What strikes me is that this burger is every bit as excessive as KFC’s Double Down. It is a hulking mass of cholesterol and sodium, and no, it didn’t help me study at all. Let’s dissect it, shall we?

BEEF – Like a meatloaf hit with a frying pan. The thing is humongous, gray and terrifying. The flavor was fine, but it was lost in the sauce. I’ll get to that later.

BUNS – similarly giant, I liken the experience to eating half a loaf of bread. But then again, that’s the point of this burger.

BACON – hard and not crunchy whatsoever. This is a variable that can change from restaurant to restaurant depending on who is manning the microwave oven thing they use. I don’t like it, but me and bacon haven’t been on speaking terms lately.

“CHIPOTLE” SAUCE – Let’s make one thing abundantly clear: this is not chipotle sauce. It has a subtle spicy flavor, but this is just BBQ sauce slathered onto a burger. If it is chipotle sauce, then my name is Jean-Claude Van Damme and the greatest film ever conceived and filmed is Time Cop.

ONIONS – What’s the point of having onions on this burger? Onions on this burger is like having two halftime shows at the Super Bowl. There’s no room.

This burger is a giant mess, but it’s a decent ploy by McDonald’s. They figure if you’re in line at McDonald’s, you might as well go for broke, no matter the consequences.

It is a curious scent, one that evokes childhood glee.  Images of happy meals, french fries, THE GOLDEN ARCHES. That’s when I recognized something startling: It doesn’t smell like burgers, really.  It doesn’t smell like any one thing in particular.  It is a sense memory, a smell not shared by Wendy’s, Burger King or even White Castle (their stench is beyond anything ever).  You could walk me through a neighborhood blindfolded and my nose would recognize that smell.

The smell of McDonald’s brings me back.  I’m six or seven years old, and it’s that fabulous Friday of the month when my parents are going out to eat.  We have a babysitter, a movie, and a promise of Happy Meals.  It is the smell of temporary freedom, a reprieve from a household bereft of sugared drinks or fatty foods, a house that believed in the moderation of sodium.  My mother meant well, but I have spent the better half of my 20′s making up for my lack of salt.  Just ask the billions of corn chips, gallons of mango pickle, and mustardy, meaty ham sandwiches.  They know the truth.

My query is obvious and thus: What does McDonald’s smell like?

Here are our choices:

McDonald’s Smells Like Memories – like my previous example, McDonald’s smell is a thing of ephemera, a glorious sense apex, a utopia that can never truly be grasped

McDonald’s Smells Like Grease – unfettered, usually burnt up grease.  What turns us off when we smell it in the context of, say, a high school cafeteria, delights us in the context of fast food.  Plus they use more salt.

McDonald’s Smells Like Burgers – is there anyone out there who believes this?  Leave your comments, let’s really get down to the nitty gritty.  I need to know you people exist.

McDonald’s Smells Like Awful – Blargh.  Glurgle Flurg.  All of these reactions occur when you, fair voter, encounter McDonald’s mighty waftings.  The horror.  The horror.

Let’s poll it up, folks!

Baconfreak.com, the same company that brought you Bacon Floss (don’t try to order it you greedy bastards, they’re out of stock ZOMG!) had sent Eick some interesting coffee, for free of course. This was no ordinary coffee.  It has to have bacon in it, right? It just has to.  Baconfreak sends me not only coffee but a press kit in which the word “bacon” is misspelled. I went from kind of irked by bacon’s continual cultural “it” factor to wondering if this isn’t some elaborate prank, where Eick is trying to bring on my bacon-fueled emotional collapse.  However, it’s free and we ran out of our grocery store brand.

The bag smells like sugary coffee, but in a special, very putrid way. My wife tried to sum it up into words but she stops short upon viewing the label on the bag. To wit:

I am once again led to ask if I’m the only person terrified by a biker with the head of a tiny pig.  Also, this illustration reminds that every animal on God’s great earth deserves a soul patch.

Upon opening the bag and grinding the beans, the strong sugary smell diminishes.  I throw it all into my french press and wait for the smell of bacon.

And wait.

It doesn’t come.  Confused, the wife and I pour a mug each and continue sniffing and sipping the coffee.  A slight flavor of maple comes to mind, but nowhere in this dark caffeinated brew do I sense the essence of swine.  The coffee is fine unto itself, albeit a little sweet for my taste.  The disappointment is palpable.  They didn’t put a maple tree on the bag wearing sunglasses, a leather jacket and soul patch.  They put a pig.  I feel betrayed.

We give it a couple days and one our friends comes over.  We offer maple bacon coffee and he is disturbed but interested.  Upon making a stronger batch than last time in hopes of bringing out the bacon, I hand him a mug and he slugs it down.  He agrees.  No flavor of bacon whatsoever.

I don’t admit to having the best palette in the world, but I’ve worked in a fine coffee shop where all of the beans were roasted on the premises.  They made flavored coffee too, although I won’t divulge their secrets.  All I can tell you is that Boss Hog Maple Bacon Coffee tastes like decent coffee beans with light maple sugar flavoring.  There is unfortunately not a hint of bacon to be found, save for the name on the bag.

If you are a bacon lover, I would think this coffee may disappoint.  It’s not that it’s bad coffee, it’s just that its taste does not attain the lofty heights its name implies.

The performance enhancing foodstuff they are advertising?  Oreos.

This is Kraft foods going for an edgier ad campaign than their traditional, semi-creepy ads featuring adults and children licking cookies. Kind of insane that in a world where Happy Meals are being banned for enticing kids to eat junk food, we have Kraft Foods putting together a super hero group made up of recognizable athletes all in the name of a creme-filled cookie.

Am I to believe that before a big match, Venus rips open sack of Oreos and scarfs away? Or that the only thing that provides Apolo Anton Ono with that extra burst at the end of a mile long sprint is a stomach full of half-digested Oreos?

In all fairness, eating a bunch of Oreo’s probably helps Shaq weigh down and break basketball hoops, and Eli Manning probably eats the shame of his little brother status away with an Oreo here and there.

I pine for simpler times, when kids weren’t so actively manipulated to crave junk food.

And by that I mean, I wish everyone would dance around the school striking poses and eating giant cookies.

Ah science, you giveth and giveth and giveth.  But sometimes you give too much, and today it’s the FDA helping science give us mutants.  The FDA is the government body that wants to keep all of us safe from all the food borne diseases and drugses and boner pillses.  It has been argued that the FDA is a tool of BIG BUSINESS, and that they care more about cold hard scrilla than the average Joseph T. Shmoe. Perhaps they have now become a tool of mad scientists!!!

Any wonderful American business has the right to increase profit and efficiency.  Even if said business is combining eel genes to create a mutant salmon that is bigger and grows faster than a normal salmon.  Supposedly it’s safe as a…fish.  But who do you trust, the mad scientists?  Or is your common sense telling you that you’ve heard this plot before, and it was a terrible 70′s movie about making fresh water piranha amenable to sea water?

Either way, the FDA is deciding whether or not the manufacturers of these fish will have to properly label them as “genetically modified.” The companies say that labeling the fish will only confuse the average consumer. My gut level says yes, please tell me what bizarre amalgam of nature I’m consuming. I’m pissed off enough when I realize that the salmon I’m eating is artificially colored. What say you, readers of So Good?

Because there aren’t enough polls in the world, of course.

On a note of finality, if you grafted this eel gene into a baby will it turn into an awesome super-sized human capable of tremendous feats? And more importantly, what would this gene do for sharks?

Ah yes. That.

Morrie was a righteous creator, someone who looked at a hunk of extruded cornmeal and said, “You can put cheese on that.” To honor him today, we will ask our readers to decide what is truly the greatest form of cheese doodle.

Option 1: The Crunchy Cheese Doodle

Small and compact, this is a kernel of cheesey goodness. Noted for it’s ability to make it seem like there were more in the bag than Cheese Doodle Puffs. A mobile form of the cheese doodle, until you wipe your hands on your new business slacks.

Option 2: The Puffy Cheese Doodle

These were large, and, well, puffy. I believe the chemical make up of these suckers is 95% air, 5% cheese. What’s amazing is you could eat these like they were nothing but your stomach would know the truth in the morning. And it was an orange truth.

Choose wisely and with reverence, friends.

Alex Blagg parodies the man filming and narrating his shots of a double rainbow, with…well, you should just watch it. You should watch both of them really. Just incredible.