Aloha Mr. Hand

SMCWE has officially been in existence for one full year and in honor of our birthday we decided to go back to our roots and revisit both the machine and a treat that scorned us. In other words folks, the Fast Bites are back!

(Cue the Kenny Loggins sequel music.)

You may recall last year after a hot stretch of amazing machine foods we eagerly anticipated reviewing the Fast Bites, a delectable looking double package of barbeque “chicken’ sandwiches. With glee we deposited our $1.75 and were instantly disappointed when the machine refused to give us our treat.

Not to worry though, the machine master returned our money and repositioned the Fast Bites into the machine, where they have been waiting for us ever since.  

One year ago

This morning

Cut to one year later, the same four packages of Fast Bites are STILL in the machine. In the full year of time, we have depleted the machine of its solitary Big Az, Landshire Country Fried Steak Sandwich, and Michelinas Breakfast Snackers.  The machine is a somewhat safer place now thanks to our amazing efforts. It is mainly stocked with ice cream today, but lurking inside are still four definitely expired, freezer burnt packages of Fast Bites.  

How can you not trust a machine located next to this respectable and not at all sketchy couch?

Unfortunately when we decided to revisit the Fast Bites review neither one of us had the requisite $1.75. Documentarian did what any reasonable person would do and called all of our friends to report that Coworker had “cancer of the butt” and to collect donations for him. 

We quickly collected the funding for our little escapade and off we went! The Fast Bites looked resplendent in the early morning sun of the break room. It was also obvious from outside of the machine that the Fast Bites packaging was half full of ice.

The ice is how it stays so fresh

With no hang ups this time, we quickly retrieved our treat. Of course, this packaging had no expiration date. This leads us to one of two conclusions 1.) there are so many preservatives this product never expires even when left for at least a year in a refrigerated vending machine that had no power for at least 48 hours  or 2.) if you are eating this garbage you definitely don’t care if it is expired or not.

Of first note, the packaging is moderately ghetto. Playing off of the word “fast” in the name, Pierre Foods has chosen to use a race car type graphic that looks like it was made in Printshop on your mom’s IBM sometime in the mid 1980’s. It’s also a vague rip-off of Fast Times at Ridgemont High although these sandwiches are undoubtedly less hilarious. It also repeatedly focuses on the “2” to emphasize that you are getting a value deal of two sandwiches. . The weight isn’t of note as the sandwiches are quite small compared to previous machine treats. The ingredient list is mostly chemicals and things we don’t need understand since we’re not scientists.

The heating instructions are very thorough including rotating etc, and leaving them in the bag to steam. We followed every precaution when microwaving to ensure the most savory and sumptuous snack possible.

It's like a Hot Pocket, only the "pocket" is made of plastic

We declined the use of this microwave food cover due to the fact that it appears to have never been washed

Coworker also declined the use of this potholder because he hates wishes

We placed the Bites on a paper towel in the microwave and first defrosted them in their plastic home for a minute and a half. Then we rotated as instructed and heated again for a maximum flavor burst. At this point there was a distinct aroma of McRib in the breakroom which seemed promising.  

Mmm Warm Bites

With the intoxicating aroma of three-year old bread, particle board chicken and death sauce kicking the olfactory senses in the groin, these undeniably regrettable treats were transported back to the safe confines of the office. However, prior to consumption real work intervened resulting in the gradual cooling off of these irrefutably disgusting chicken pucks.

The Bites cooling to an inedible temperature

Once real work was done, the bites were revisited and instead of getting soggy, they got rubbery. Now I don’t know about you, but I thought food that had been frozen for god only knows how long and then microwaved should not be rubbery, but I digress…

After poking it a bit and confirming the treat was indeed not actually chicken, once again against his better senses Coworker proceeded to take a big-boy bite out of the Bites.

Square Chicken is a cousin to the elusive Triangle Fish

 When his teeth penetrated the bun, and it had the consistency of a loaf of sourdough roll that had been left out for a year, and the look of dread overtook Coworker’s face. However the worst was yet to come. One would think the “chicken” would be the worst part of the experience, but it was clearly made out of some sort of paper-mache or otherwise blend of daily newspapers and discarded magazines that had little to no flavor. By far the worst part was the “sauce.”

I don't really see any sauce on there

To call this substance a “sauce” would be an insult to EVERY other sauce ever conceived from tomato to hoisin. This splotchy, red mass was like ingesting generic ketchup that had been sitting out in the sun for an entire summer. Even vermin would be adverse to this “sauce.” Coworker then did finally get the first bite down, but in the interim Documentarian unwisely took a bite out of the second Bites. Immediately regretting her decision, she then spit out the awfulness into Coworker’s trash can and pleaded with Coworker to not complete the challenge for his own personal safety, health, well-being and overall happiness.

Coworker will never be defeated again

However, Coworker politely declined and proceeded to finish both Bites much to his own dismay as with each bite the situation got progressively worse. With both down, and Coworker suffering from “paper-mache meat sweats” Documentarian mercifully rewarded this feat of stupidity with a Blow-Pop to take dampen the flavor savor these bites bestowed on Coworker.

Directions: swab mouth with sugar to remove cardboardy aftertaste

Unfortunately for Coworker, the Bites will never go away, but rather live forever inside of his tummy as food that is of an unidentifiable age simply does not digest because they were never meant to be consumed in the first place.

 

The Hunger Games

The pre-dinner snack of champions.

With the potential of vomiting being a very real possibility and combined with that of sharing an office in an enclosed hallway without proper ventilation, SMCWE decided to take this show on the road. The logic being simply that we were gonna yack, and better to yack at Documentarian’s house rather than an office trash can. We also wanted to avoid having to explain to the boss as to why as grown adults we were eating so much candy that we ultimately projectile puked all over our office.

With this in mind, Coworker and Documentarian left the office promptly at 5 and immediately made a trip to the Kroger to procure a mass quantity these seemingly innocent sugar coated bastards. The little white trash cashier made note of the odd quantity of Peeps being purchased by Coworker. She then commented on the same amount but in a different color being purchased by Documentarian.  It was obvious to everyone that strange things were afoot and that these Peeps were clearly not being used appropriately.

Can there ever be too many Peeps?

As a secondary precaution against the Peep induced vomit-we decided to partake in our little activity outdoors. That way there would be no need for proximity to a trash can or toilet should the need arise. Safety first folks. It seemed like a great plan until Documentarian’s neighbors happened to be outside and she was forced to explain (with shame) that she and Coworker write and offensively off color “food” blog and that they were about to make a game of throwing up sugary treats all over the yard.

Conveniently, Documentarian and her naysaying husband had colored a huge quantity of Easter eggs that they had decorated as spring animals and pirates, which are apparently not mutually exclusive themes as one would think. As a pre Peep Off activity, Documentarian and Coworker’s lovely wife created a series of vignettes with the eggs to describe what was about to happen to our insides.

Walk the Peep plank.

We're all going to die in this sugary prison.

I'm in a glass case of emotion

Dressed in our respective school colors and mentally ready for a total intestinal beat down, the Peep Off commenced!

State pride.

After consuming the first two Peeps, Coworker instantly regretted the decision to eat so many. These puffy “treats” had way more mass than remembered from childhood and their sugary coating made things all the worse.

Peeps may cause vomiting, sugar hands, and sudden death.

It was like trying to eat something with the texture of soggy White Castle buns wrapped in sandpaper. Documentarian quickly fell behind exclaiming baby excuses such as “ugh it’s so gritty” or “my teeth hurt.” Simply put, the overall experience was terrible.

Undeterred, coworker took a swig of his Good People IPA and proceeded onward.

Get in my belly!

To make the situation worse, Coworker decided that it was a good idea to eat four at a time. The rapid expansion of the marshmallow fluff in the mouth was intense. He would chew and chew and the mass would not dissipate as the sheer volume of unnatural additives and preservatives made it to where even Takeru Kobayashi would cry out for help. Needless to say, he chose poorly and it slowed him to the point where Documentarian began to take the lead in total number of Peeps eaten with her methodical tiny lady small bite strategy.

Dainty lady bites

With less than a minute to go, Coworker shoved around five into his mouth in an attempt to try to overtake Documentarian.  Documentarian quickly employed the “sandwich method” of schoolhouse pizza fame (fold in half, shovel into mouth) to consume two Peeps at a time. It was awful. The sheer mass of the Peep was almost impossible to swallow creating an abnormally large lump in her throat as in went down. It was like she was a terrible form of Anaconda that only eats huge quantities of marshmallow bunnies.

And with that, the ten longest minutes of our lives were over and Documentarian threw one of her remaining Peeps to the ground and shouted “San Dimas High School football rules!” while Coworker proceeded to spit out the remaining Peeps still lodged in his mouth into the side yard.

FINAL TALLY:

Documentarian-39 Peeps

Coworker-38 Peeps

The carnage.

In a surprise turn of events, Documentarian managed to pull off a stunning upset in the number of Peeps consumed.  Since neither of us made it through 60 Peeps in 10 minutes, the second part of the challenge became who will puke last? We languished for nearly a half hour expecting to vomit uncontrollably and being completely unable to move due to the sugar induced coma. The half consumed, chewed up Peeps Coworker spit out were so repulsive that even his dog (that once ate an ant trap) would not eat a Peep…that’s a testament to their overall suckage.

After 30 minutes of no puke, Documentarian was declared victor of Peep Off 2012. Since Wilford Brimley was unavailable to present the award for this special achievement in diabetes, we fashioned a trophy out of a coke bottle topped with a pink Peep. We then proceeded to show it the respect and reverence the Peeps had shown to us.

The Peep Cup

Documentarian was pleased with her gastrointestinal strength as well as being able to tell her husband he was wrong, however she doesn’t really consider it a “win” since it was a considerable loss of her dignity.

Never Forget.

Sneak Peep

So the great Peep Off totally happened on Friday. It was an epic battle of gastrointestinal fortitude. There were many casualties. Two people lost their dignity. And someone may have stabbed a man with a trident.

Completely unrelated to the Peep Off, Documentarian had the day off today. It was definitely not because she had a belly full of white dog crap, but mostly because she needed to paint her porch. Or so she said.

So dear readers, we will give you the full recap tomorrow, but I will leave you with a few pictures to continue to overhype the awesomeness that was Peep Off 2012.

The pre-game spread

West Virginia and Alabama both excel at obesity

We actually did this

The Peep Show

 While most people celebrate Easter by going to church or hunting pastel color eggs, we have instead designed an epic battle of digestion for your pleasure. We will be presenting in all it’s glory the first annual PEEP OFF. 

The Peep Off rules are simple: each contestant must eat 5 packs (60 total) Peeps in 10 minutes or less. Winner is determined by whoever manages to eat all 60 Peeps in the allotted time. If both opponents manage to do so, the winner will then be determined by who pukes last. In the event that both puke simultaneously the contest will result in either a draw or a cage match, this is to be determined.

Now, let’s meet the brave warriors who want to make this your Best. Easter. Ever.

In corner one we have the incoming food consuming champion, Coworker.

Fighting Name:  Evander Tyson Miyagi 

Class: In the class of Alan from the Hangover that meets Tom Selleck. A little off, but totally BA with a ‘stache.

Strengths: Is pretty good with a bow staff and can fit *most* of his fist into his mouth.

Weaknesses: Yellow cheeses freak him out.

Special Skills: Ability to drink and enjoy PBR in a non-ironic, non-hipster type of way.

Special Preparations: Crushed four plates of chicken at the KFC buffet last night to get a solid base of savory and salty down before the crush of sugary commences.

Quote: “Get him a body bag! Yeeeaaah!!!” Tommy from Cobra Kai

Odds: 100 percent to get down all five packs AND 100 percent to then throw up.

 

In corner two we have the challenger, Documentarian.

Fighting Name:  Oren-Ishi Eat

Class: Lightweight for a girl, but heavyweight for a child

Strengths: Frequent consumption of unnatural amounts of sugar, good hair, and a love of all things pink.

Weaknesses: Skinny jeans, a weak stomach,  and a husband that keeps saying “but I just don’t think this is going to end very well.”

Special Skills: Yellow belt in nun chukking, double black belt in Photoshop.

Special Preparations: rocked out to Billy Squire’s “The Stroke”

Quote: “I have a very particular set of skills-skills that make me a nightmare for people like you”

Odds: 80 percent to get down all five packs AND 100 percent to then throw up.

 

 

 

Sakrij svoje djece … sakriti svoju ÿenu! (Hide your kids…hide your wife!)

 Today for you, we review the single nastiest, most vile, treat in our arsenal…..Gavrilovic pork pate.

Against Coworker’s better judgment, he decided to bring back from the magic land of Ohio this seemingly benign treat. This fine pate was purchased last May and has been festering in a cabinet waiting for Coworker ever since. The sad little tin has even been passed over for shrimp chips and bites. We actually went out and procured other newer treats as a way of putting off consuming this delicacy.

Also available in delicious tube form

Recently though, Documentarian had a death in her family. It has been a very sad time for her so naturally, being a great humanitarian, she parlayed her sadness into coercing Coworker to finally eat the pate. Also, as an act of humanitarianism, we scheduled this review for a day when Coworker’s wife will be away for the evening as the pate will most certainly resurface in some form later tonight.

Let’s start with the amazing packaging. The container looks conspicuously like a can of cat food, however there is a cherubic smiling lady beckoning us to eat her fine “jetrena pasteta.” 

Well hello there

At first glance, Miss Lady looks like a sweet Croatian milk maid, but on closer inspection she appears to have a set of gigantic devil horns on the side of her head. And is that a streaming tail of fireworks shooting off the back of her head? And her costume seems both vaguely Dutch and Chinese.  Suspicious, we proceed with caution.

Also prominently advertised is the fact that this is a product of Croatia, which immediately makes us both intrigued and disgusted by the potential nast of product.

Croatia is nice right?Big Al thinks so

It includes ingredients we don’t understand, such as muscat nut. (Is it a cat? Is it a nut? It’s probably better not to know.) There are also alot of words in Croatian that I guess are important to the product, but since we don’t understand them we just have to take the lady’s smiling devil face as reassurance that Gavrilovic is the best tin can pate money can buy.

Assuming the Croatian instructions on the tab translated to “pull here for culinary delights,” the foil lid was peeled back to reveal the treat beneath. Instead of a lumpy, multi-faceted, turd-like disaster, what was exposed was a strangely smooth paste that looked like puréed, as the late John Candy said in his masterpiece The Great Outdoors, “lips and a%#holes.”

A distressing lack of chunkage

 Upon inspection, both Coworker and Documentarian were surprised that their olfactory senses had not been violated in the immediate aftermath of breaking its seal. Again failing to use simple logic, Coworker got real close to the surface and inhaled, and was taken aback by the smell. Unable to describe the horror, Coworker insisted Documentarian smell the pate in all its vileness to which she responded rather emphatically: “it smells like a butt covered in bologna!!” Immediately regretting the decision to not toss this gem in the trash, Coworker pressed forward with consumption.

Now everyone knows that a good pate needs a good cracker. Being the supportive officemate, Documentarian brought in crackers fit for an Australian prince to spread this Adriatic filth onto in a noble effort to facilitate its consumption.

"There is no substitute for quality." It says so right there on the box

Big Al's stamp of approval

Quickly grabbing his cup of water to make sure this revulsion would make it down, coworker took one cracker, swiped it through the pate like chips and dip and proceeded to place the whole thing in his mouth.

If it smells like a butt...

And looks like a butt...

 Proud that the immediate gag reflex did not overtake him, Coworker proceeded to chew this hot mess into a paste that could be used to plug the leaks Clark Griswold made at the Hoover Dam when they took their Vegas vacation. Unwilling to let the taste of “bologna and butt” overtake his mouth, Coworker proceeded to drink a stadium cup of water to make it go away. However this only made the treat more adhesive and unwilling to go away. It was only after consumption of a mouthful of crackers and an entire Wonka bar that the intense plague was totally removed from his mouth and Coworker could focus on providing our loyal readers his take on this Croatian masterpiece.

More than a mouthful ends up on the floor

To maintain some sense of dignity, there was no way we could just casually dispose of this monster in the community trash. Instead we carefully dumped it in an old ice cream wrapper we conveniently had on hand due to the intermittent (ie. sketchy and unreliable) trash pickup of our office and then quickly ushered it to the community bin.

This is for your safety and ours

       

*Goodnight, sweet prince

 

Yo VIP let’s kick it!

All right stop. Collaborate and listen. SMCWE is back with a brand new invention courtesy of the process food product known simply as “bites.”

*bad decisions

Before we start let’s do a quick re-cap of how we managed to get our hands on these delicious bites. After 2 months of blogging, the SMCWE team still hadn’t managed to become rich or famous so instead of writing more food reviews we decided to just go to Puerto Rico.

*good decisions

As we were about to depart beautiful PR, Documentarian realized she needed some last minute treats to take on the plane ride home and stopped in the airport newsstand to pick them up. She happened to spy the interestingly packaged bites near the register. They looked curiously like a cross between Vienna sausages and Mexican cat treats so of course they warranted a closer inspection.  Upon touching the pouch one could feel both the firmness of the bites as well as hear the bit of liquid sloshing around inside. It was apparent that this was no ordinary treat.

Everything about the packaging was appealing to our inner toddlers. The bag itself is green and yellow like a new box of Crayons! It features phrases such as “No spills!” There is no upper case B! And the “serving suggestion” is apparently to have them shot out of a rocket launcher haphazardly at your open mouth! Yay!

*no derrames!

The bites also featured important information such as they are made of “chicken sausage & boullion” and under no circumstance should you be microwaving them unless you are prepared for the ultimate doom. We were also surprised to discover they are shockingly low in fat and calories and that one serving provides 6% of the recommended daily allowance of vitamin C. So by SMCWE standards, bites are a health food.

*don't act like you're not impressed

Now anyone who has ever been to an airport knows that all foods inside are priced at a 200% markup. So imagine our surprise when the bites were only $0.99. SOLD! As a testament to their quality, the bites were literally the least expensive thing in the store, even gum was $3.00. We knew they just had to be good.

*worth every cent

Unfortunately, since we were about to embark on a 3 hour plane ride of the Atlantic, we decided the Luis Marin International Airport was not the ideal place for one to consume the bites. Sadly, the bites have been languishing ever since. Today though, on the one week anniversary of the bites’expiration date, and spurred on by both reader requests and a fist pumping power chant from the Documentarian to “DO THE BLOG!” Coworker is back and ready to crush some bites.

For starters, the intoxicating aroma of these Puerto Rican airport treats was simply amazing. From the second the foil packaging was pulled back, Coworker immediately had doubts in consumption as they had expired just over a week earlier and the smell was something between a that of potted meat and of hot dog water.

*eat me

*you know you want it

*Big Al says "EAT THE BITES!"

Undeterred, he poured all of these nuggets along with the “sauce” that kept these miracles moist and flavorful a full eight months after being purchased. Putting aside all fears of an immediate gag reflex, and worse, what consumption might mean for overall bowel efficiency going into the weekend, coworker took his first bite.

As his teeth penetrated the rubbery, old hot dog like skin, a burst of meat juice made the experience all the more miserable. Think of it as being one of those tasty gusher treats from childhood, only instead of artificial grape flavor, it was artificial chicken and pork flavors.

*the bites failed the "bounce test"

Chewing onward, the texture became that of a gritty Vienna sausage, with all the flavor of the smell of San Juan sewers. With one down and a lot to go, Coworker proceeded to power through and crush the rest of the bites.

*just the tip

Each piece was progressively worse as the recessed gag reflex was starting to reemerge despite the bravery of Coworkers pursuit of processed perfection.

As the bottom of the cup became within view, the issue became the “sauce” at the bottom.

*sewer-esque

*and again from below

As these treats had clearly been marinating since Spain ceded Puerto Rico to America in 1898, the potency of the treat began to overtake Coworker. Undeterred again, he powered through the horror and overall blight to his tastebuds contained in the submerged treats to finish off the package in its entirety. As the last one went down the hatch, Documentarian was chanting “DRINK THE JUICE!”

*the urine cup

*this was the point where Coworker said "I'm afraid to burp."

However, after almost doing the unthinkable and drinking it, Coworker caught a whiff of his finger that touched the juice and immediately recoiled at the thought of food tasting like San Juan street smell. Without regret, the evidence was placed in the community trashcan as to have the rest of the office share in the wondrous scent of treat perfection.  Although definitely one of the worst things consumed,  thoughts of Medalla and mofongo remind me that although much deliciousness can be found on the island, DO NOT consume San Juan airport treats…buy the $15 burger when you get back to Atlanta.

Victory is ours!

Twas the night before work and all through the cube

not a creature was stirring, not one single dude.

Coworker in his mustache and Documentarian in her dress

had both long departed for an evening of rest.

The bloggers were nestled all snug in their beds,

with visions of Big Azs dancing in their heads.

When back at the office there arose such a clatter,

The vending machine man became aware of a matter

Regarding the Fast Bites and a broken machine,

He was perplexed and saddened by the note he had seen.

The lady handwriting told a tale of woe

His best customers were sad, and rightly so.

He collected the note and a bunch of change

and began searching for the office he knew was in close range.

He placed a $1.75 by Coworker’s keyboard

For him to find in the morning and feel overjoyed

That the vending machine fairy had visited him that night 

to keep the bloggers happy and make this bad situation right.

(*yay)