Purchased at: Murphy’s Food Mart (Kentland, IN)
Reviewed by: Casual Clay Cunningham
Not content to simply spread povertization (real word?) and self-loathing to the frozen dinner market, the good folks at Banquet have expanded their dessert repertoire with a new collection of frozen pies.
They’re not great.
The first problem I had with my Cherry Berry (I also spotted Apple in the frozen section of my local grocery store) was that it was leaky and made a puddly mess in my microwave. Seeing as how the product was made by Banquet, the margin of error was ultra-thin and being forced to take six seconds out of my five hour work day to wipe up a small mess made my mood less than jovial.
Also, I’d be lying if I said the ultra-thin crust made my mouth water. The box would lead you to believe the structure was thick and durable, when in reality it’s so meager it’s virtually transparent. It’s hard not to be apprehensive about eating something that looks like cheap drywall you’d find scattered about the floor of a Habitat for Humanity project house (I once spent three days on a volunteer work crew with my church’s youth group. Am I a hero? Probably, but that’s not what this review is about).
So with all these obstacles in the way, does it taste as awful as you’d expect? No, not really, which is really just to say it didn’t initiate the gag reflex I was expecting as I pensively stared over it several minutes after microwaving.
Don’t get me wrong, these aren’t necessarily good. However, if you make a conscious effort to eat Banquet meals regularly, these, oddly enough, are a decent companion piece. And for $.66, it’s certainly not a bank breaker (with what I’m making for this post, I could almost buy five!)
At the very least, it’s an upgrade from the desserts that come packaged with the dinners. Have you seen the brownies they put in those things? Anytime I’ve ever looked at one, it’s like I could hear Banquet executives saying “I dare you to eat this.” If someone offered me a million dollars to rest that thing on my tongue for five seconds, I wouldn’t even consider it.
But all faint comparative praise aside, I wouldn’t encourage anyone seeking a decent dessert to try these. Aside from the cruddy structure, there’s a weird aftertaste, which isn’t necessarily repulsive but it’s not pleasant either, and I suspect that if I ate these on multiple occasions I would grow to hate them.
Lastly, after I got done I felt really tired and I have no explanation as to why. This type of lethargy is common with full microwave dinners which, when completed, essentially become a detonated nuclear bomb within your bowels. I didn’t get diarrhea this go around, which was somewhat welcome, but also felt like a cheat, seeing as how I got all the exhaustion with none of the funny wet defecation stories. This certainly isn’t the worst gyp of my life, but it was a gyp none-the-less.
Does It Hit The Spot?
No. While it’s not horrendous and it’s hard to be ripped off by something you spent $.66 on, it’s not enough. Pie is a food universally synonymous with deliciousness, and average, even when it’s dirt cheap, doesn’t cut it.
If you are looking for pre-packaged pie, I’d stick with Hostess or Little Debbie. They cost a little more but they taste better, and more importantly, they don’t require 3-4 minutes of microwavization (also perhaps not a real word).
P.S. To Zac Pritcher. I realize this isn’t as jokey as my previous Banquet review, and thus likely won’t be as fun to rip off. Obviously stealing my shit isn’t the only way you can leapfrog me onto The Shitpulsive Buy‘s “The Week in Reviews,” but as proven in the past, it does help.
*P.P.S. Now that we’re officially off topic, yes, there’s no question my actions from June 22-24, 2000 make me a hero, and I’m sure the Wheeler family of Bowling Green, Kentucky would be proud to vouch for me.
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