Burger King Burger Shots (A guest post from down Texas way)

One day my friend Matt, resident of Austin, Texas and finalist in the High School Lunch Memories Contest, sent me an "instant message" to tell me that he was surprised that I had not yet reviewed Burger King's Burger Shots. I replied that I was also surprised and I thought that he would also be a good man for the job. He agreed, so here you have it. By the way, this is Matt:


Living about a block away from a Burger King, and being without cable television, I first learned about BK Burgershots from the illustrious block letter marquee fixed underneath the Burger King sign. I initially envisioned some horrid burger-in-a-cup scenario; online research revealed these burgershots to be the far tamer threat of bite-size burgers. Burger King is no stranger to questionable names: witness the Angry Whopper or Croissan'wich. An infrequent fast-food consumer, I am nonetheless drawn in by all things gimmicky, and I knew I needed some of these tiny sandwiches.


Little Lady Laura and I stopped in for lunch today. I ordered a six-pack of burgershots and a four piece chicken tender, she ordered a whopper. We both got fittingly tiny plastic cups for water. The flat panel television was playing Disney's High School Musical, keeping up the theme of digestable, disposable flash-in-the-pan pop garbage. But here, I'm being too hard on the little guys.


They were perfectly adequate miniature representations of the standard BK burger: meat, cheese, two pickles, ketchup and mustard. The patties featured the ubiquitous grill-marks (I think Burger King would put char marks on the soda, if they could), belying the microwave prep I see every time I order here. One disturbing fact: the burgers are connected, joined at the patty, and the box encourages a "tear-and-share" method of dispersal, as if you and and a friend were only really hungry enough for 1 oz of meat a piece.


The box/product appeared to be sponsored by Heinz Ketchup, apparently "the only ketchup fit for a king". The paragraph on the other side of the box stated that these mini burgers were "designed to move", though I'm not sure how much more handy or aerodynamic they are than a regular hamburger, especially with their siamese-twin attachment. As a comparison, I snuck a few bites of the Little Lady's Whopper while she was in the restroom, and the cornocupia of veggies, sauces, and more substantial meat beat the pants off the burgershots. They were never intended for this sort of competition, though, and for what they are they elicited a not-condescending "meh" from both the Lady and myself.

Again, perfectly adequate carbon copies of the standard hamburger. Not really enough of a taste sensation for me to order again, though I am keen to try the breakfast shots. What can I say? I'm a sucker for tiny hamburgers. One final note: these are not sliders. Sliders sometimes have greasier buns and "special" sauce, but they always have grilled onions, which were sadly missing from the burgershots. This is what separates them from White Castle or the immortal Bates Hamburgers of greater Wayne and Livonia.

An Angry (and confused) Whopper

When people ask me what an Angry Whopper is, I explain to them that an onion was abused with spices and other devious measures during its formative days in the soil and is here for revenge, or at least that's what my TV tells me. What doesn't make sense about this (among many things) is that half of the onions on the Angry Whopper had no detectable spice. The jalapeños sure did though, and boy is there a lot of mayo Angry Sauce.


Oftentimes in our lives, confusion makes us act out in anger. In the case of the Angry Whopper, I am just confused. Sure, it is delicious (no small feat for the vaporized grease pushers at Burger King), but I don't really feel like I "know" the Angry Whopper. I have consumed one on two separate occasions -- One with a meal, and one as an a la carte sandwich for the whopping big price of $4.02 -- and I still don't get it.

Some bites of the Angry Whopper taste exactly like its well adjusted Whopper sibling, which makes sense since the receipt I was given reads 1 SC WHOPCHZ 3.89 PLUS ANGRY(!) 0.60. Others treat you with the sweet burn of jalapeños. My virgin bite of an Angry (I'll call it this for brevity's sake for here on out) tasted completely normal and I found myself wondering if I had been slipped the wrong burger or if I had developed an extremely high tolerance for spice. As I ate on, randomly placed jalapeños added some hot surprises with intensity that grew stronger as the burger diminished. Bite to bite, though, the experience is hardly consistent, which I suppose is true of anger itself.

It's worth taking a look at the Angry's ingredients, in prioritized order as seen on the Burger King web site.

Angry Onions: The first time I ate an Angry, I was convinced that the "spicy onions thing" was a total lie. The only angering thing about them was that they suffered from that problem you have with onion rings where you take a bite and the onion comes out, leaving a fried shell behind. During my second Angry experience, I hand-picked an Angry Onion for solo consumption. The first bite tasted like the onion ring nub it resembled, but the second bite actually had some spice. Confusing!
Jalapeños: It's hard to mess these up. They're spicy and sweet with a burn that increases as you eat more of the Angry. My only complaint is that their haphazard placement leads to inconsistent heat.
Pepper Jack Cheese: My friends know that I hate at least 88% of the cheese on the market. For a pure taste test, I left the cheese on and it either is completely flavorless, is pretty damn good, or is masked by all of the other "fixins."
An Angry Sauce: I was convinced that my first Angry was just topped with plain old mayonnaise. So were my hands, my face and my notes. The sauce was everywhere and I wasn't even recklessly chomping. After I was told about "An Angry Sauce" (why "an"?????) I made sure to take note of it during my second spiral into anger. As far as I can tell it tastes like sweet BBQ sauce.

For some reason, Burger King does not highlight the fact that there is bacon on this thing. Perhaps it's because there is barely any present. When I first looked at the Angry, before eating it, I thought I saw a piece of bacon. But as I continued to eat, I was convinced that I had seen a funny-looking onion. My notes even say something like "I thought a piece of onion was a piece of bacon. Fail." Later on, I discovered a two-inch strip of bacon. There definitely needs to be better bacon coverage on the Angry.

So, after we've all calmed down and had some time to think, do we care enough about the Angry Whopper to forgive its quirks? Absolutely. It's fast food, so it's imperfect but absolutely delicious.

Burger King Flame Broiled Flavored Potato Snacks

Don't give yourself indigestion with worries -- Winners of the High School Lunch Memories Contest will be announced tomorrow.

If you enjoyed my review of Burger King Onion Rings Flavored Snacks, you're in for a real treat -- Burger King Flame Broiled Flavored Potato Snacks. This is the second snack in the Burger King snack trifecta, the other being Ketchup and Fries flavored snacks.

The existence of these chips was foretold to me, and I discovered them one day while waiting in line at the local Blockbuster Video. They sat on my counter, awaiting review, for some time. Then, my power went out and I had no access to my refrigerator and no time to go on a Flavor Quest so I knew it was time to fire up the proverbial grill.

I have to admit that I was a bit nervous as I opened the bag. I grew up in close proximity to a Burger King and the "flame broiled" greasy smoke smell hung heavy in the strip mall adjacent to BK. The smell always made me huffily exhale out of my nose and say, "Ew, Burger King smells gross." I imagine the smell of Burger King is how it would smell if you managed to smoke some grease (the way you'd smoke a turkey breast) and then vaporized it. The smell made me see visions of red brick chimneys on the surrounding houses stained black with Essence of Burger King. I swallowed the fearful lump in my throat and broke the seal.

Whiff one of the bag revealed a smell not at all unlike burnt, over-fried normal potato chips. Bleh. Not at all promising, just like Cabo Chips.

Taste one was rather herb-y, followed by a slight beef taste that immediately made me picture rare "beef medallions." Taste two indicated an attempt at simulating "burger fixins." A mildly herbed tomato was definitely present.

Burger King Flame Broiled Flavored Potato Snacks are a prime example of false advertising, which, in this case, is the best thing they have going for them. The smell I hate (smoked grease) is thankfully not present, replace by one I can at least tolerate. And, most importantly, the simulated jazzed-up low-grade beef taste is spot on.

If I had to associate potential actions I would take with these chips regarding the way I feel about them, I'd say that I would suggest you try them, but I probably wouldn't take one from you if you offered to share.

Perhaps you'd like to try my review of Burger King Onion Rings Flavored Snacks. Or Cabo Chips.

Burger King Onion Rings Flavored Snacks, reviewed

There was a bag sitting on my desk for a week. Everyone was asking about it. And my guest columnist did not come through. So yesterday, just before noon, I broke the seal on my 1.125-oz. bag of Burger King Onion Rings Flavored Snacks, which I purchased from the vending machine in my office.

My initial impressions of the first ring out of the bag:

• It looks like a circular Taco Bell Cinnamon Twist


• It smells like a Funyun with a hint of cheese -- minus one point


• It tastes like a weak Funyun -- a negative for the taste buds but a plus for post-snack meeting attendance


• It leaves a light, fine residue on your fingers -- not at all sticky or obtrusive

The Onion Rings Flavored Snacks' consistency is sort of "powdery" once bitten. They are not as coarse as Funyuns. And, they're certainly easier to eat than a real onion ring because you don't have to worry about taking a bite that takes the whole inner onion with it, leaving the doughy shell. The flavor is also more consistent than that of the real thing.

There is also an underlying hint of "rice cake," which makes sense considering that this item's description includes the phrase "puffed snacks."

The phrase "deep crunch" is also used, and I feel that this is wholly inaccurate. "Deep crunch" should only be used to describe the sort of snack that cannot be consumed in a classroom with a "no food or drink" policy without being audibly noticed.

Slight digression:
Whenever I have an interesting food item on my desk, my coworkers feel that it's necessary to inspect its nutrition facts. I will be very depressed when I get to this age. For now, I make my food intake decisions based only on flavor potential and novelty. Any way ...

Although I tend to write about the experience of eating instead of evaluating products, I feel that Burger King Onion Rings Flavored Snacks deserve a rating on a numerical scale. And that rating is 5.5 out of 10. I didn't dislike them, yet I would probably never think of them again if it weren't for this blog.