Taco Bell's EVEN NEWER Crunchwrap Sliders!

I hope you like semi-spicy, junk-food-laden Hot Pockets variations with contents that resemble vomit!

By: Jimbo X
JimboXAmerican@gmail.com
@Jimbo__X

Even when Taco Bell isn't that great, it's still fairly enjoyable. Granted, the products have a tendency to run together due to their textural and mouthfeel similarities - if you told me to describe the difference between a Sriracha Quesarito and a Daredevil Loaded Griller (any of those motherfuckers), I don't think I could - but who cares if everything on the menu is fairly indistinguishable? What matters is that the Bell, even at their lowest level, is still affordable, filling and gustatorily satisfying enough to warrant indiscriminate nom after indiscriminate nom. Their almost-monthly product variations may not be getting any points for originality, but they score plenty of points when it comes to consistency. 

When I first started working on this article, I totally forgot that I had already covered the first wave of Crunchwrap Sliders last year. As such, I assumed that I was ordering four all-new products, but in reality, just two of the Sliders you can pick up at the Bell in early 2016 are original items. So if you are wondering about the quality of the two returning offerings - which are modeled after breastaurant sampler menu favorites, thematically - do yourself a favor and click this link right ' chere.

The Sliders themselves are pretty interesting little menu offerings. They aren't quite burritos, but you can't really call them tostados, either. Instead, they remain in this weird fast food interphase, as if a quesadilla and an enchilada were locked inside the teleportation machine from The Fly. That they come in paper pouches more befitting bread sticks just adds to their offbeat uniqueness. 

Aesthetically, they ain't much to look at. They are just slightly toasted tortillas wrapped up in a pseudo-pentagon shape, with a whole bunch of weird shit sealed inside them. They are fairly bulky, though, and their misshapen forms - you ever try to wrap up chunks of chicken and Frito's without the end outcome looking bumpy? - give the Sliders a certain eccentric charm. 

As far as our new dining options are concerned, we've got two new items to chew on. First, let's take a gander at the Sriracha Chicken Crunchwrap Slider, why don't we?

You know, it is a good thing these products are wrapped up tight, because if anyone saw the internalized contents displayed all open-face-like, dry heaving would probably ensue. Make no mistake, this stuff is uglier than homemade soap; the blend of puréed chicken, corn chip fragments and neon orange sauce looks less like something you would eat than something someone has already digested and barfed right back up.

Alas, if you can overlook the fact the product looks like ginger sauce-soaked cat food dumped inside a tortilla, you'll discover a fairly enjoyable fast food offering that is actually quite a bit spicier than most Taco Bell selections. The chicken is a little watery and the Fritos really don't add much at all to the formula, but the sweet chili flavor definitely makes everything come together. It is an odd mishmash of  textures and shapes, to be sure, but all in all, it is not a bad little novelty burrito. 

So there is already a Beefy Cheesy Nacho Slider out there, but the SPICY BEEFY NACHO CRUNCHWRAP SLIDER ups the ante by, uh, making it spicy? Yes, yes it does, indeed. And not unlike its Sriracha Chicken cousin, this thing looks all sorts of disgusting inside the tortilla. Shit, I'm half-tempted to post an up close photo of an open sore or my latest bowel movement; I highly doubt anyone would be able to distinguish them from the utter grossness of what the foodstuff actually resembles. 

Fortunately, although the product may look like diarrhea spray squirted all over a soft taco shell, the product itself is pretty yummy. This is definitely one of the spiciest Taco Bell products to come out in a long time, with the molten-cheese-soaked beef and Fritos chunks doused in a savory, smoky, Jalapeño ranch dressing that I am pretty sure the company has never trotted out before. Sure, it is no Lava Sauce, but it definitely does the trick. Overall, this thing may be nothing more than just a slight tweaking of a pre-existing product, but hey; at least it is one hell of a re-tweaking, no? 

OK, so these newfangled Crunchwrap Sliders aren't exactly going to set the fast food world on fire. Yes, they are rather formulaic and hardly adventurous remixes, but when the end product is so sinfully delicious, who cares? Simply put, the two newest Sliders - despite looking like rolled up barf - are really, really tasty, and at just one dollar a pop, you can scarf down enough of them to give you gastrointestinal regret for less than it costs to buy a decent spiral-bound notebook. It's classic Bell, through and through; familiar, affordable, aesthetically revolting, probably unhealthy as hell and unquestionably delicious. 

When it comes to drive-thru dining, looks and originality are both vastly overrated. While other fast food giants try to church up their line-up with pretentious, overpriced "premium" offerings, the Bell continues to excel in economical, on-the-go nomming, with these latest Sliders demonstrative of the franchise's formulaic greatness. They may not be the prettiest or most creative foodstuffs out there, but ultimately? I reckon I'll vouch for such satisfying, cost-effective sameness over pricey, ostentatious "innovation" any day of the week.

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Taco Bell's All New Quesarito!

Is it a burrito, or a quesadilla, or simply a rolled up slice of heaven?

It's clear that Taco Bell views Chipotle as a major threat to the U.S.-ified Tex Mex fast food chain hierarchy. First, there was their line of gourmet tacos and burritos that looked and tasted suspiciously identical to Chipotle's much ballyhooed rolled up and bowled foodstuffs. Then, there was the Bell's announcement that it was going to open up its own line of higher-scale fast food eateries, whose MO sounds pretty much identical to Chipotle. And now, taking this rivalry to almost Bloods vs. Crips proportions, Taco Bell has fired what may very well be the fast food taco chain equivalent of the shelling of Fort Sumter: they've actually went and MASS MARKETED the competitor's off-the-menu urban legend!

The Quesarito, historically, has been known as a "secret" item that select Chipotle chains across the U.S. offered to customers who were in the know about furtive fast food offerings. Basically, a "quesarito" was a standard quesadilla, melted cheese and all, wrapped 360 degrees around a burrito. Sure, it sounds gross at first, but after a while, the inherent deliciousness of the concept strikes you. It may very well be the most ingenious way of making people fatter since the advent of the fried brownie, in my humblest of opinions.

I've tried ordering a quesarito a few times at various Chipotle stores, but always to no avail. With T-Bell riding high off their super-awesome breakfast menu blitzkrieg, I suppose they figured now was a good time to continue the offensive strategy, this time by defictionalizing their number one competitor's most mythical menu item!

Indeed, the items are EXACTLY what you'd expect them to be. They're semi-gourmet burritos -- topped off by your choice of meat -- blanketed by a thick, gooey tortilla wearing molten cheese like warpaint. I'm guessing the universe as a whole is split, 50-50, on whether or not that's the most salivating idea ever, or the absolute freaking grossest.

Currently, the Bell is offering three variations of the Quesarito. We'll take a look at the steak permutation first -- primarily, because that was the first one I opened up.

As you can see for yourself, we've got quite the medley of flavors going on here. There's cheddar cheese, some wild rice, some sour cream and a smidge of chipotle sauce, alongside the sinewy chunks of dead steer. Of the three variations, this was probably the least bold in terms of flavor; for fast food adventurers who don't like any surprises, this is probably your best bet heading into the Great Quesarito-Off of 2014.

Next up is the beef version. As expected, it was extremely greasy, even on the outside of the tortilla. Of the three, it definitely felt the lightest.

I'd have to say this was my least favorite of the trio. For one, it didn't feel as if there was anywhere near as much rice chunked into the 'rito,  and the overall cheese and sour cream quotient felt pretty low, too. Nobody will ever hail Taco Bell for having the best ground beef in the world, so however you feel about it in normal Bell offerings will probably swing your overall impression of this item.

The shredded chicken Quesarito was definitely the heaviest of the three permutations, and smelled the weirdest, too. It almost smelled like Texas Pete, but then again, I guess anytime you combine poultry with chipotle sauce, that shit's going to end up smelling like hot sauce, no matter what.

This one was probably my favorite, because there appeared to be way more sour cream and sauce tossed into the goulash. I've never been a big fan of chicken, but this one certainly outdid both the steak and beef versions. The nacho cheese also seemed to gel the best with this one: overall, I'd say this is probably the best way to experience the Quesarito...that is, until the Bell inevitably wheels out their special Doritos Locos Tacos Quesarito. With chunks of grounded up waffle taco in it.

All in all, I thought Taco Bell's stab at Quesaritoes wasn't half-bad. They probably won't become anybody's favorite menu item, and their longevity as an offering is definitely suspect, but as a quick meal, circa July 2014? These things will do you quite well, especially if you are already fat, really sweaty, and not just giving a damn about most things anymore. Which, I know, is pretty much everybody reading this right now.

The big question now, I reckon, is obvious: will Chipotle strike back by trotting out THEIR version of the much-requested old school Taco Bell enchirito this autumn?

Stay tuned, fast food Tex-Mex enthusiasts: things are starting to get very interesting around these parts...

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Del Taco: A Restaurant Review

Further proof that the worldwide economic recession is heading to an end: the resurgence of B-level fast food chains you thought went bankrupt in the 1990s!

Fate, clearly, is working against me. And worst of all, it’s doing so via Mexican fast food.

Earlier this year, I graduated from college, and for a good four years, my diet was relegated to vending machine produce and the periodic overpriced egg sandwich that was being huckstered for about three dollars too many in the liberal arts college lobby. The saddest thing is, the only fast food places within walking distance of the campus were a Waffle House (quite the den of quality foodstuffs, of course), and a gas-station Subway, whose $8.99 foot-long veggie subs were still cheaper than the bagels I could buy if I strolled on over to the business college.

And then…literally a week after graduation…a freaking Taco Bell opens up across the road. For a good two or three minutes, I was utterly outraged, until I drove past this little shopping complex (which, for some dumb ass reason or another, I never found fit to explore as a student) and realized there was a DEL TACO about a mile away from my school.

This is some “Twilight Zone” twist ending shit right here. I starved and jammed Pop-Tarts down my throat for almost half a decade, when if I had just walked in the OPPOSITE DIRECTION, I could’ve found an oasis of B-level fast food chains that I honestly thought went belly-up sometime in the 1990s. Shit, if I drove another five miles, I probably could’ve found the world’s last operational Burger Chef and Druther’s, too.

To the uninitiated, Del Taco is a fast food chain that specializes in food that overweight Americans think is authentic Mexican cuisine. In the 1990s, the establishment was quite commonplace in the metro-Atlanta area, if concentrated mostly in malls and school food courts. Legend has it that my alma matter even had one in its cafeteria - which, today, unfortunately, is home to a Chick-Fil-A.

Apparently, Del Taco’s parent company hit some tough times in the 1990s and had to close down a few of its chains. Honestly, I haven’t seen one in my neck of the woods for more than 10 years, so seeing that glorious, red, green and yellow signage on my way to a nice turnaround spot to get back on I-75 South was easily one of the greatest things that has EVER happened to me.

As you can see, the lobby of the Del Taco looks a lot like the lobby you’ll find at every other fast food outfit in the nation. Since the afternoon queue was so large, it gave me ample time to scout out the venue’s menu - and as one of the Western World’s biggest cheddar potato poppers AND plastic tyrannosaurus premium enthusiasts, I was rather impressed by the chain’s offerings.

I ended up picking up both an 8-layer burrito (which, apparently, is 1-layer more hardcore than Taco Bell) and a half pound bean and cheese burrito. The really nice thing about the second item was that it was being hawked at only 0.99 cents - needless to say, I have a firm idea of where all of my loose one dollar bills will be going for the foreseeable future. And in case you’re red and fry-colored color blind, yes, that IS a box of crinkle-cut potato sticks jutting off to the side of my tray, perhaps symbolizing a long overdue peace accord between the French and the Mexicans.

One of the things I absolutely LOVED about the restaurant was this hot sauce bar, which totally kicks Taco Bell square in its purple and yellow cojones. Not only did you get three samples each of both hot sauce and salsa, the items were, surprisingly, quite zesty and spicy. If nothing else, they were certainly worlds better than that crappy packet stuff you’ll find at the Bell, most definitely.

I ended up settling on the houses’ hottest sauce and it’s hottest salsa. As a general rule, the darker the sauce, the spicier and more flavorful the dip, and these sauces, especially for a fast food chain, were pretty darn good. The condiment bar may very well be worth a visit to Del Taco alone, if you ask me.

The important thing, I suppose, is whether or not the burritos were any good, or at least, on par with what Taco Bell offers. And to give you a truncated answer…well, sorta’.

First off, the tortillas. All in all, I’d say they are pretty comparable to what you would find at Taco Bell, as the tortillas are pretty doughy and get quite mushy when you load them with extras. The major positive here is that it gels really well with the sauces and salsas, which give the soft shells a nice complementary function. Additionally, these burritos are downright HUGE, probably the same size as the absolute biggest burrito on the Bell menu. If you’re really hungry (as in, Shaggy Rogers levels) and you’re broke as hell, this should REALLY give you an incentive to find the nearest Del Taco location around you.

There are things that I really liked about the bean and cheese burrito, and there were a couple of things that I didn’t like. For one, I really liked the cheese, which had this spiciness to it that the cheese at Taco Bell just doesn’t have. The problem is, the refried beans just weren’t fusing with the rest of the burrito, giving the offering a really watered down, pulpy taste that only gobs of salsa could overpower. It wasn’t necessarily bad, per se, but it was definitely lacking a few crucial ingredients that could have made it a real competitor against some of the Bell’s value menu stalwarts.

The eight-layer burrito, however, was freaking outstanding, and you need to try it.

Just look at that, kids. It’s not so much a burrito as it is a garden struck by a nuclear warhead. Cheese, tomato chunks, iceberg lettuce, sour cream and guacamole is wedged into the shell so hard that just poking the burrito causes bean fragments to squirt out of wrapper. It’s been quite a while since I’ve had a seven layer burrito from Taco Bell, but this Del Taco offering is definitely a worthy challenger to its throne - and since you can batter your burrito with salsa and sauce that’s actually worth a damn, I feel pretty confident declaring this 8-layer burrito to be a SUPERIOR offering to the much revered Taco Bell analog.

So, what are my final thoughts on Del Taco? It’s pretty awesome, and if you have an extra $10 in your pocket, it’s probably worth checking out. Assuredly, there are some complaints to be had (those mushy ass beans, primarily), but there’s just so much diversity and add-ons that it’s difficult to NOT recommend the chain to any fans of mass-produced Tex-Mex. Whether or not it’s AS good as Taco Bell, of course, is in the eye of the beholder; and in my salsa and lechuga-encrusted pupils, I’d say Del Taco is clearly worth your time, effort, y dinero, Holmes.

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