Taco Bell’s Cap’n Crunch Delights: A Review!

AS REGULAR READERS of this blog know, Sunday night found me driving around aimlessly just to enjoy the air conditioning in my car, on account of the oppressive humidity we’re suffering through here in Southern California — thank you, unseasonable July rainstorm! — when I happened by a Taco Bell (one of those ‘quick-serve’ restaurants we’ve been hearing about).

Sunday night is traditionally pizza night in the Parsnips household, but as I wasn’t in the Parsnips household, but rather in the Parsnips carhold (I guess), why not enjoy a good wholesome dinner from Taco Bell, right? Why not indeed! Like our First Lady says, Taco Bell has the food choices Americans can feel good about!

So I drove up and what do I see but this ad slick [industry term] on the window of the establishment.

The food inventing geniuses at Taco Bell Labs, in cooperation with the Quaker Oats people, probably, just gave us Cap’n Crunch Delights. That cements the deal. I’m going in.

Or rather, I went in.  No sense changing tenses mid-stream (to mix metaphors mid-stream).

A side note: Cap’n Crunch Delights are not to be confused with Cap’n Crunch Treats, which we covered here some time ago, and which even might make a cameo appearance elsewhere in this post!

Anyway! I got a few of those Taco Whosits and an order of Nacho Dealies plus a couple of them Burrito McGees, a Chalupa This, an Enchordito That, and a Grilled Stuffed Whatsit or two — on account of you don’t want to just order the Cap’n Crunch Delights alone, because you’ll either look like a pathetic loser or a sad blogger. And yes, those two descriptors are mutually exclusive if only to afford myself some dignity; a man of my age and social standing buying these things.

So, I ordered the rest of the food, as I said, and then, very cleverly, almost as though it was an afterthought, I ordered that which I specifically went in for.

“Yes, that does complete my order,” I responded to the counter-person’s polite inquiry.  “But, hullo, what’s this that I’m just noticing now?  ‘Cap’n…Crunch…Delights.’ Huh. Huh. Interesting. Well, why not, right? Hold on just a moment, old man! Let’s go ahead and add some of those Delights — the Cap’n Crunch Delights — to my order. Just a two-pack will do. Thank you.”

Now I was kind of taking a risk just ordering the 2-pack and I’ll tell you why: One gets no sense of scale from the in-store promotional materials for these items — I had no idea how big or small they were. And I certainly wasn’t going to be one of those people who ask to see the Delights in person before making up his mind. Would a 2-pack be enough?  Should I have gone for the 4-pack instead?  Or thrown caution to the wind and picked up the 12-pack, or “dozen?”

Too late — I went with the 2-pack for a dollar and hoped for the best. Price and participation may vary.

With bag in hand, I headed home. Regardless of how much of a disgusting slob you insist that I am, I draw the line at eating Taco Bell food in the car, as that’s too messy even for me. And that line I drew…? Actually, it’s not so much a line as just an errant French fry that fell onto the floor from my last foray to Jack in the Box (and which shall remain there until I’m feeling a bit peckish).

Once home, I ate the other food, and as delicious as everything was, it was only a precursor, a main course if you will, to what would in effect be the dessert: These Cap’n Crunch Delights.

The question was “Would these Delights in fact be delights?” — ‘delights’ being a word we don’t throw around here willy-nilly.

They came in this little paper sack here, which you can bet I’ve saved to put up on Flickr (at which point I’ll immediately be contacted by the moderator of a group called “Mexican Fast Food Chain / General Mills Cereal Crossover Menu Item Packaging” and asked if it can be added to their gallery).

I tapped the bag over a plate, and here’s what rolled out for my dollar:

They were about an inch and a half in diameter, if that, and not quite as thick as they were wide, quite red in color, and besprinkled in crushed Cap’n Crunch cereal — giving them almost a sandy texture. The overall visual impression is not unlike what I, and now you, would imagine the result would be if Cap’n Crunch himself happened upon Jean LaFoote on a beach, with LaFoote getting the upper hand with that sword of his and making the Cap’n start singing soprano.

But I guess “Cap’n Crunch Testicles” doesn’t exactly roll off the tongue (well, with their round shape, technically they would), so I can see why they went with “Cap’n Crunch Delights.”

Still, I think they should have called them “Battle Creek Oysters.” And yes, I’m aware it’s Kellogg’s, not Quaker Oats, that’s headquartered there. But it just kind of works.

…Oh, oh! The review!  Right!

They tasted good.

Posted by Ted on July 21, 2015, 6:04 PM.