The All New Cool Ranch Doritos Locos Tacos - - REVIEWED!

Finally, this otherwise worthless trifle we call “life” has meaning again…

Last spring, Taco Bell gave the Doritos Locos Taco -- a popular Southern California delicacy -- a national release. The outcome was a coast-to-coast phenomenon, with the item going on to become the fastest selling menu offering in the fast food chain’s history.

To commemorate the one-year anniversary of the highly popular hard-shell product, Taco Bell recently unveiled its spiritual “sequel” to the original Doritos Locos Taco - - the all new Cool Ranch Doritos Locos Taco. Much rejoicing…and with it, corresponding bean sauce-stained pants…followed suit.

As a consumer, you may be asking yourself if an item of the like is truly necessary. I mean, it’s not like the product can taste that much unlike its predecessor, right? Well, talk of the like is clearly the Satanic prattle of commie sympathizers; it’s our divine right as Americans to have as many co-branded, probably-unhealthy fusion snack-fast-food abominations as financially feasible, and the only downside to the matter is that there aren’t more Doritos flavor-flavored tacos out there on the market place. If Benny Franklin were alive today, he’d probably be down at the local TB, two-fisting the new DLTs while singing the praises of modern capitalism. Well, that, or complaining about not being able to own slaves anymore, I guess.

The first thing you need to note about the Cool Ranch Doritos Locos Taco is the packaging. As you can see here, the wrapper scheme is mostly white and blue, indicating a certain “cool” vibe that the marketers behind the item clearly wanted to communicate with would-be consumers.

Additionally of interest is the text printed on the wrappers. There are a lot of “in-your-face” messages scrawled on the packaging, sort of a throwback to the 1990s style of advertising that tried to threaten you into purchasing foodstuffs out of fear of getting your ass kicked. I especially dug all of the hash tags sprinkled liberally around the wrapper. Clearly, this new Cool Ranch Doritos Locos Taco is intended to be something more than a lunch time purchase; it’s truly intended to be the first ever SOCIAL MEDIA TACO, a multimedia experience much more than a dining one. Based on advertising alone, the intent from Taco Bell is clear; you’re not just supposed to EAT the new Cool Ranch Doritos Locos Taco, you’re supposed to TWEET the new Cool Ranch Doritos Locos Taco. But, uh, I would probably still advise NOT taking a picture of yourself naked eating the new Cool Ranch Doritos Locos Taco and uploading it to SnapChat, though.

I suppose that, in some ways, it can be considered environmentally unwise to wrap an already wrapped-in-cardboard foodstuff in a fairly needless second protective barrier, but I disagree, for the most part. The translucent wrapper “clues” you into the contents of the thing you already bought, with the cardboard Doritos Locos Taco holder shining underneath the translucent exterior packaging like an ethereal spirit. It gets you excited for not just a dining experience, but in some manifestations, a spiritual one, as well.

The cardboard taco holders are actually flip-sided, with one side - a dark blue hue - reminding you that you are eating a new Cool Ranch Doritos Locos Taco, while the opposite side - this, a red hued one - informs you that the original Doritos Locos Taco is still available for purchase.

There isn’t much to say about the newfangled Cool Ranch wrapper, other than the fact that it a.) has the name of the product emblazoned upon it, b.) it is mostly azure in appearance, and c.) you can conveniently fit a taco inside it. Courageously artistic, this design choice may not be, but you really can’t fault the thing for it’s functionality, I suppose.

As before, the Bell has granted us two varieties of Doritos Locos Taco; for a smaller fee, you can acquire a standard Cool Ranch Doritos Locos Taco (pictured here), and for a couple of extra cents, you can obtain a “supreme” version, which in addition to shredded lettuce and cheese, also contains a fair amount of sour cream and diced tomatoes.

As you can see, there’s quite a bit of difference between the two products. What I found most perplexing, however, is that despite the additional contents of the supreme iteration, it’s still very much the same shell size as the standard DLT. It even fits in the same cardboard holder, in something of a minor affront to how physics work. I would probably advise chipping in the extra quarters for the supreme version, if you have to make a choice between the two; hey, a couple of really big tomato chunks are worth it, I say.

As for the shell itself? Unless you have the world’s least impressive Mutant Power, you probably won’t be able to distinguish one of the new Cool Ranch Doritos Locos Tacos from a standard taco, unless you are up close against the item and witness the gleaming Cool Ranch speckles that are lined around the top of the taco. Unlike the previous DLT, your hands don’t become as coated in junk food dust as soon as you touch one of the shells, so here’s to the R&D techies at Taco Bell University for remedying the absolute largest complaint anyone could have about the first wave Doritos Locos Taco.

Now, as for how the newfangled DLT tastes? I actually preferred this one quite a bit to the original model. As stated before, the fact that one’s hands don’t turn the same color as a sunburned Oompa Loompa by grazing the product is a major boon, and I think the subtler Cool Ranch taste is much preferable to the kinda’ blunt, super corn-chip taste of the DLT 1.0. As yummy as the product is, however, I was still a little disappointed by the general vibe of the product; yeah, you do get something of a Doritos taste when you bite into one, but beyond that? It’s just a standard taco, with all of the regular taco fix-ins. As a HUGE fan of the Loaded Grillers released earlier this year, I was anticipating a little more innovation from the almighty Bell, and while the new Cool Ranch Doritos Locos Taco didn’t leave me unsatisfied to any large degree, I still would’ve liked to have seen TB take this gimmick to the next level. How about throwing in some Fritos-flavored croutons or any awesome, proprietary guacamole sauce next time around, guys?

That said, the stuff, as expected, is pretty edible, filling, and worth at least one taste-test. Will the Cool Ranch new breed set the world afire the same way the first round of Doritos Locos Tacos did? Eh, probably not, but if you have a hankering for something grossly-tantalizing at 2 in the morning, it’s an ever-present option, I suppose…

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Taco Bell’s New Loaded Grillers Review!

Ever wondered what it would be like to eat a Hot Pocket stuffed with tater tots and sour cream? Apparently, Taco Bell got your memo…

One of the great, unreported tragedies of 2012 was Taco Bell’s ill-advised decision to discontinue the half pound cheesy bean and rice burrito. For broke-ass college kids across America, that value-priced offering was the equivalent of a 1-up mushroom from “Super Mario” - you could be on the verge of death, and with about two bucks in change, you could be rescued from the clutches of starvation via a flour tortilla and at least six or seven ounces of melted cheddar. It saved my half-famished derrière on numerous occasions, and with it officially axed from the line-up, I was almost ready to begin a nationwide boycott.

I never, ever send in consumer complaints, but by golly, as soon as I found out that the half pound cheesy bean and rice burrito was no mas, I sure as heck did. And apparently, so did every other American in the 18-34 age range, because Taco Bell was super-quick to trot out a new line-up of value-priced, oversized burritos, called “Loaded Grillers.”

The more I think about it, the more I think that these “Loaded Grillers” are the most criminally insane (but genius) ideas ever trotted out by a fast food organization. The basic concept of the items is relatively simple: “Hey, you know how people go to places like T.G.I. Friday’s and Applebee’s, and order appetizers like mini chicken wings and potato wedges?” I imagine the madman/visionary that dreamed up these new burritos pitching to the main menu guy at Bell HQ. “Well,” he must’ve continued, “how about we take all of that shit and dump it into a tortilla, and hawk it for 0.99 cents a piece?”

It’s an idea that’s one part incredibly gross, and one part undeniably appealing. It’s cheap, it’s greasy, it’s oversized, and it you just KNOW it’s going to be filling. It’s such a brazenly stupid idea that it kinda’ turns the corner halfway and starts looking like the marketing strategy of the century - in other words, it appears as if we’ve found ourselves the spiritual successors to our beloved half pound cheesy bean and rice burritos, all right.

To begin with, there are actually three -- count ‘em, THREE -- value-priced burritos being offered here, all of which are modeled after your standard appetizer staples, like chicken wings, tater tots and nachos. And yes, I know that making a nacho-flavored burrito is a little redundant, but if you’re complaining about a chunky, cheese and sauce stuffed burrito for less than a dollar, than you sir, must be a communist.

The price point is absolutely inarguable. For about $7.92, you can pick up eight burritos - you know, the kind of deal that almost makes you think you’re kicking it, 1992 style. Not only is it the products’ strongest selling point, it’s pretty much the products’ ONLY selling point. The tagline for these things might as well be “because they’re cheap and they won’t kill you,” and they would still sell like hotcakes.

Now, I want you to pay REAL CLOSE attention to his menu placard. As you can see, the “Loaded Grillers” are supposed to look like you’re standard burritos - that is, a piece of tortilla with stuff of fluctuating color, texture and smell flowing out of it. Needless to say, the final product I ended up with looked…well, let’s just say, a wee bit different than what I was advertised.

Even though these new items are loaded with more animal byproducts than Revlon’s lipstick factory, I simply HAD to give these things a taste-test, anyway. You just know these things will never become a permanent menu item, and truthfully, it’s probably only a matter of time before the FDA cracks down on the Bell for releasing such a gloriously unhealthy product. No shit: when I ordered my burritos, the cashier kept asking me if I really wanted to go through with it. When the check out boy is trying veto your lunchtime decision, you simply KNOW peculiar things are afoot at America’s favorite synthetic Tex-Mex eatery.

Although the contents of the burritos are all fairly different, I think it’s important to note that, as far as externalities go, these things are practically identical. You get a flour-wrap tortilla that’s mildly blackened, to insinuate actually grilling - but come on, this is Taco Bell we’re talking about here. We know better.

So, uh, yeah, the burritos don’t look too much like the items you see on the window cling-ons. I guess the most obvious deviations is that the burritos are of the “closed flap” variety, so no cornucopia of sour cream will ooze out of your meal when unwrap them. I’ve got to say, though, the folks at the local Bell did a bang-up job on sealing these things shut; I’d surmise that prying open King Tut’s sarcophagus with a crowbar would require less effort than completely de-shelling a “Loaded Griller.”

For those of you in need of up-close burrito biopsy images, well, here you go, people. The “Loaded Potato” burrito was far and away my favorite of the bunch, an absolutely scrumptious smorgasbord of nacho cheese, sour cream, tater tots and bacon bits. It sounds gross - and it kinda’ is - but it’s the “homiest” kind of gross you can think of. It’s so simple yet flavorful, and it has a nice, lingering taste that definitely makes it stand out from the 800 quesadilla variations you’ll find on the Taco Bell menu. It’s fantastic, and you need to try one.

The “Spicy Chicken” burrito, however, was a little less thrilling. True to the nomenclature, it was indeed rather spicy, and the goulash of cheese and buffalo sauce - this smoky blend that was sort of like chipotle sauce, only a little less zesty - was quite tasty. The problem is, the chicken tastes like plastic, and it has this weird, way-too-moisturized texture that makes it feel like the meat has been marinating in lukewarm water for a couple of hours. And let’s not even talk about those pathetic little black bean chunks. I mean, seriously, that’s what passes for bean chunks nowadays?

The “Beefy Nacho” burrito was unquestionably my least favorite of the trio. I haven’t tasted Taco Bell beef in well over half a decade, and good lord, was I shocked - SHOCKED, I SAY - by how gross the stuff tasted. I sorta’ take back calling the Taco Bell chicken “plastic” tasting, because I’m at least partially convinced that the Taco Bell beef isn’t made out of normal, god-made animals. If you ask me, chowing down on one of these things is like gulping down a handful of Silica beads, only doused in chili seasoning and cheese sauce. If you’re wondering what those little red things are, they’re supposed to be tortilla strips - and if you’re not mildly concerned by how much the inside of one of these things resembles a diarrheic explosion, heaven help you, son.

So, what to say about the “Loaded Grillers?” Well, one out of three ain’t bad, but all in all, wouldn’t it be much, much better if the Bell was to eliminate the chicken and beef ones and replace both products with a returning half pound cheesy bean and rice burrito? I mean, the savings in inventory costs alone would be worth it, and the revenue brought in from making the potato burrito a full time offering would only sweeten the pot. Your mileage will certainly vary here, but compared to some of the Bell’s previous menu stunts - snack food flavored tacos and wannabe Chipotle’s, anyone? - it’s hard for me to be anything but disappointed in this latest annexation to the Taco Bell lineup.

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