Flamin' Hot Funyuns

It never fails. Just when Dave at the office starts bitching that I haven't updated (I was on an 11-day weekend, dammit!), I go to the vending machine in the kitchen and I'm presented with something like Flamin' Hot Funyuns.

The existence of Flamin' Hot Funyuns had been foretold to me by my friend Euphenia but, try as I might, I had not found them at any stores I regularly visit. I saw them at a party store by my old flat a while back but I was hanging out with my girlfriend at the moment and didn't feel like subjecting her to my vile breath. This is a courtesy I do not extend to my professional colleagues, so I peeled open the 35.4-gram bag, knowing that the cup of coffee I'd just finished was sure to make things interesting.



Flavor-wise, the bright red "Flamin'" powder seemed to cancel out the "onion" taste I love so dearly, but the exciting after-burn (not the kind you get in the bathroom) was definitely present. Perhaps the coffee was masking the flavor.

As I ate on, the Flamin' taste grew but the Funyun flavor did not. A similar experience is had when devouring Flamin' Hot Cheetos, and I imagine this can be said for anything else in the Flamin' franchise.

Because I know you're curious: Unlike Flamin' Hot Cheetos and their non-Flamin' siblings, the Flamin' Hot Funyuns don't leave sticky red residue on your fingers. That phenomenon seems to be related to the "cheese" powder. But I digress ...

There's really not that much to say here, and that's only partially because I am filling my face with spicy deliciousness. I would gladly eat the hell out of Flamin' Hot Funyuns. If you know me, you know that goes for regular Funyuns too -- When conditions are right, I have been known to eat a $2.99 bag of Funyuns, a king-size Snickers ice cream bar and a frozen Coke, after all.

A note to my generous colleagues: The "item" you left on my desk should appear here next week as soon as I feel like eating bugs.

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.