Latest recipes

Burger King Is Throwing Doritos on a Burger Because Why Not?

Burger King Is Throwing Doritos on a Burger Because Why Not?

Burger King is testing out a steakhouse burger topped with a handful of Doritos, only at select locations in Spain

Between the Whopperito and this, Burger King seems to be into wacky creations lately.

Following the wild (and controversial) Mac n’ Cheetos bites, Burger King is venturing further into the world of orange dust-coated snacks: Select Burger King locations in Spain are topping normal steakhouse burgers with a handful of crunchy Doritos.

The limited-time offering will only be available until Nov. 21, a source told The Street.If it does well in Spain, the Burger King Doritos steakhouse burger could be introduced in the U.S. It certainly wouldn’t be the first time that a bizarre mash-up appeared at American BK locations. Earlier this summer we got our first taste of the Whopperito, a Whopper-burrito mashup.

Clearly, Burger King is doing something right. BK is one of the few fast-food brands that has not been sluggish as of late, with same-store sales increasing 4.2 percent in the first quarter of this year.


The Snackdown review: Burger King mala burger

Mala calls to mind many things, but being stupidly sweet is probably the last thing you might expect.

As an amateur journalist (as in, the kind that never achieved professional status owing to lack of ability, not the kind that does it for a hobby and also because writing about snacks hardly counts as a viable career), one of the interview questions that I hate to ask/hear being asked is the one that goes, “if you could go back in time, what advice would you give your younger self”.

First of all, to quote a certain Dr Bruce Banner from Avengers: Endgame , “Time doesn’t work that way. Changing the past doesn’t change the future.”

That also kinda explains the endless Terminator reboots and retcons, but on the other hand, it wouldn’t really matter if John Connor died or not. Skynet would still nuke humanity off the face of the planet and the resistance would have found another leader anyway.

And secondly, it’s complete rubbish, because the person you are today is the result of the decisions you made yesterday .

I’ll give you example, if a young Snacktivist’s mother didn’t buy him a 12-piece box of McNuggets only to give him two and THROW THE OTHER 10 AWAY IN FRONT OF HIM, he would have grown up a far better-adjusted individual.

Going back in time, intercepting the McNuggets before they made it to the bin and giving them to my younger self changes nothing. I’m sure I could dig up a few more neuroses. It’s one of the few things I have in abundance.

But that’s enough about my mother and my issues. I already talk about it way too much during therapy anyway.

What my lower intestines were telling me as soon as I saw the violently red chilli oil soaking through the (supposedly) greasproof paper was impending death, destruction and doom.

Back to my main point: If I absolutely had to choose one thing to say to an adolescent Snacktivist (aside from getting therapy earlier and possibly matricide), and even then, this is aonly if I had a gun to my head, threats to kill my firstborn and the forfeiture of bacon for the rest of my life, I’d tell myself to “listen to your gut”.

Not in that maudlin listen to your instincts sort of rubbish that the inspirational posters always tell you to, but to listen to your gut . As in your gastrointestinal tract.

And what my lower intestines were telling me as soon as I saw the violently red chilli oil soaking through the (supposedly) greasproof paper was impending death, destruction and doom. Not necessarily in that order, not consecutively and most certainly not mutually exclusive.

Obviously the genius who said “there’s nothing to fear but fear itself” never had anything mala.

You see, I have a love-hate relationship with it. As in my tastebuds love it, but my lower intestines, particularly the terminus of said intestines, along with the rest of my digestive system, for that matter, absolutely hates it.

When mala is done well, the numbing heat from the Sichuan peppers plus other assorted spices is a riot of flavour. What it does to my stomach also is a riot, but I digress.

Good mala is a riot of nuanced spiciness, but this nuance is woefully lacking in Burger King’s new mala burger.

What I’m trying to get at is mala — when done right — isn’t just spicy. It also has a great deal of herbal and spicy undertones that you can just about get at while trying to eat with a tongue that somehow has numbed itself into oblivion.

It’s this nuance that’s woefully lacking in Burger King’s new mala burger.

Actually, it could be amazing if you like sugar. I mea n, really like sugar. Like, actual sugar granules , because that’s what it feels the mala paste is made of.

Sugar granules, if you think I’m being a little obtuse.

Imagine if you were to accidentally drop some mala paste into a bag of sugar, and that’s pretty much what it is.

Why Burger King has decided this was the way to go, I have no idea. But then, I’ve no idea about a lot of things.

Imagine if you were to accidentally drop some mala paste into a bag of sugar, and that’s pretty much what it is.

But the Burger King mala burger does have one redeeming quality. Actually, make that four, because you can quadruple-patty the thing. Which presents its own unique set of challenges, the most obvious of which being how, unless you’re a snake, dislocate your jaw to make it fit in your mouth.

The second big issue being how you’d probably earn yourself a one-way ticket to diabetes hell if you finish it. You will no doubt know that diabetes is one of the biggest threats our fine nation has to deal with in the coming years.

Plus, there’s also the risk of a kaiju attack, but then that probably falls under force majeure , so yeah.

It would bring tears to our esteemed leader’s eyes, and not just because of how sweet it is. I mean, mala literally brings tears to the eyes of most people.

And no, I’m not a chili lightweight. Just because you (you know who you are with your smugness) ate a ghost pepper-laced taco on a dare and pretended it didn’t cauterise the inside of your mouth doesn’t make you better than me.

But anyway, the mala burger does have one good thing going for it. The sour cream, cucumbers and lettuce really are a rather nice touch. It adds some useful contrast to the spiciness.

A pity, then, that there’s nothing to serve as a counterpoint to the sweetness. Except perhaps the salty tears of anti-diabetes campaigners.

10-word review: Lots of sugar, not much spice, and not very nice
Best paired with: A shot of insulin


The Snackdown review: Burger King mala burger

Mala calls to mind many things, but being stupidly sweet is probably the last thing you might expect.

As an amateur journalist (as in, the kind that never achieved professional status owing to lack of ability, not the kind that does it for a hobby and also because writing about snacks hardly counts as a viable career), one of the interview questions that I hate to ask/hear being asked is the one that goes, “if you could go back in time, what advice would you give your younger self”.

First of all, to quote a certain Dr Bruce Banner from Avengers: Endgame , “Time doesn’t work that way. Changing the past doesn’t change the future.”

That also kinda explains the endless Terminator reboots and retcons, but on the other hand, it wouldn’t really matter if John Connor died or not. Skynet would still nuke humanity off the face of the planet and the resistance would have found another leader anyway.

And secondly, it’s complete rubbish, because the person you are today is the result of the decisions you made yesterday .

I’ll give you example, if a young Snacktivist’s mother didn’t buy him a 12-piece box of McNuggets only to give him two and THROW THE OTHER 10 AWAY IN FRONT OF HIM, he would have grown up a far better-adjusted individual.

Going back in time, intercepting the McNuggets before they made it to the bin and giving them to my younger self changes nothing. I’m sure I could dig up a few more neuroses. It’s one of the few things I have in abundance.

But that’s enough about my mother and my issues. I already talk about it way too much during therapy anyway.

What my lower intestines were telling me as soon as I saw the violently red chilli oil soaking through the (supposedly) greasproof paper was impending death, destruction and doom.

Back to my main point: If I absolutely had to choose one thing to say to an adolescent Snacktivist (aside from getting therapy earlier and possibly matricide), and even then, this is aonly if I had a gun to my head, threats to kill my firstborn and the forfeiture of bacon for the rest of my life, I’d tell myself to “listen to your gut”.

Not in that maudlin listen to your instincts sort of rubbish that the inspirational posters always tell you to, but to listen to your gut . As in your gastrointestinal tract.

And what my lower intestines were telling me as soon as I saw the violently red chilli oil soaking through the (supposedly) greasproof paper was impending death, destruction and doom. Not necessarily in that order, not consecutively and most certainly not mutually exclusive.

Obviously the genius who said “there’s nothing to fear but fear itself” never had anything mala.

You see, I have a love-hate relationship with it. As in my tastebuds love it, but my lower intestines, particularly the terminus of said intestines, along with the rest of my digestive system, for that matter, absolutely hates it.

When mala is done well, the numbing heat from the Sichuan peppers plus other assorted spices is a riot of flavour. What it does to my stomach also is a riot, but I digress.

Good mala is a riot of nuanced spiciness, but this nuance is woefully lacking in Burger King’s new mala burger.

What I’m trying to get at is mala — when done right — isn’t just spicy. It also has a great deal of herbal and spicy undertones that you can just about get at while trying to eat with a tongue that somehow has numbed itself into oblivion.

It’s this nuance that’s woefully lacking in Burger King’s new mala burger.

Actually, it could be amazing if you like sugar. I mea n, really like sugar. Like, actual sugar granules , because that’s what it feels the mala paste is made of.

Sugar granules, if you think I’m being a little obtuse.

Imagine if you were to accidentally drop some mala paste into a bag of sugar, and that’s pretty much what it is.

Why Burger King has decided this was the way to go, I have no idea. But then, I’ve no idea about a lot of things.

Imagine if you were to accidentally drop some mala paste into a bag of sugar, and that’s pretty much what it is.

But the Burger King mala burger does have one redeeming quality. Actually, make that four, because you can quadruple-patty the thing. Which presents its own unique set of challenges, the most obvious of which being how, unless you’re a snake, dislocate your jaw to make it fit in your mouth.

The second big issue being how you’d probably earn yourself a one-way ticket to diabetes hell if you finish it. You will no doubt know that diabetes is one of the biggest threats our fine nation has to deal with in the coming years.

Plus, there’s also the risk of a kaiju attack, but then that probably falls under force majeure , so yeah.

It would bring tears to our esteemed leader’s eyes, and not just because of how sweet it is. I mean, mala literally brings tears to the eyes of most people.

And no, I’m not a chili lightweight. Just because you (you know who you are with your smugness) ate a ghost pepper-laced taco on a dare and pretended it didn’t cauterise the inside of your mouth doesn’t make you better than me.

But anyway, the mala burger does have one good thing going for it. The sour cream, cucumbers and lettuce really are a rather nice touch. It adds some useful contrast to the spiciness.

A pity, then, that there’s nothing to serve as a counterpoint to the sweetness. Except perhaps the salty tears of anti-diabetes campaigners.

10-word review: Lots of sugar, not much spice, and not very nice
Best paired with: A shot of insulin


The Snackdown review: Burger King mala burger

Mala calls to mind many things, but being stupidly sweet is probably the last thing you might expect.

As an amateur journalist (as in, the kind that never achieved professional status owing to lack of ability, not the kind that does it for a hobby and also because writing about snacks hardly counts as a viable career), one of the interview questions that I hate to ask/hear being asked is the one that goes, “if you could go back in time, what advice would you give your younger self”.

First of all, to quote a certain Dr Bruce Banner from Avengers: Endgame , “Time doesn’t work that way. Changing the past doesn’t change the future.”

That also kinda explains the endless Terminator reboots and retcons, but on the other hand, it wouldn’t really matter if John Connor died or not. Skynet would still nuke humanity off the face of the planet and the resistance would have found another leader anyway.

And secondly, it’s complete rubbish, because the person you are today is the result of the decisions you made yesterday .

I’ll give you example, if a young Snacktivist’s mother didn’t buy him a 12-piece box of McNuggets only to give him two and THROW THE OTHER 10 AWAY IN FRONT OF HIM, he would have grown up a far better-adjusted individual.

Going back in time, intercepting the McNuggets before they made it to the bin and giving them to my younger self changes nothing. I’m sure I could dig up a few more neuroses. It’s one of the few things I have in abundance.

But that’s enough about my mother and my issues. I already talk about it way too much during therapy anyway.

What my lower intestines were telling me as soon as I saw the violently red chilli oil soaking through the (supposedly) greasproof paper was impending death, destruction and doom.

Back to my main point: If I absolutely had to choose one thing to say to an adolescent Snacktivist (aside from getting therapy earlier and possibly matricide), and even then, this is aonly if I had a gun to my head, threats to kill my firstborn and the forfeiture of bacon for the rest of my life, I’d tell myself to “listen to your gut”.

Not in that maudlin listen to your instincts sort of rubbish that the inspirational posters always tell you to, but to listen to your gut . As in your gastrointestinal tract.

And what my lower intestines were telling me as soon as I saw the violently red chilli oil soaking through the (supposedly) greasproof paper was impending death, destruction and doom. Not necessarily in that order, not consecutively and most certainly not mutually exclusive.

Obviously the genius who said “there’s nothing to fear but fear itself” never had anything mala.

You see, I have a love-hate relationship with it. As in my tastebuds love it, but my lower intestines, particularly the terminus of said intestines, along with the rest of my digestive system, for that matter, absolutely hates it.

When mala is done well, the numbing heat from the Sichuan peppers plus other assorted spices is a riot of flavour. What it does to my stomach also is a riot, but I digress.

Good mala is a riot of nuanced spiciness, but this nuance is woefully lacking in Burger King’s new mala burger.

What I’m trying to get at is mala — when done right — isn’t just spicy. It also has a great deal of herbal and spicy undertones that you can just about get at while trying to eat with a tongue that somehow has numbed itself into oblivion.

It’s this nuance that’s woefully lacking in Burger King’s new mala burger.

Actually, it could be amazing if you like sugar. I mea n, really like sugar. Like, actual sugar granules , because that’s what it feels the mala paste is made of.

Sugar granules, if you think I’m being a little obtuse.

Imagine if you were to accidentally drop some mala paste into a bag of sugar, and that’s pretty much what it is.

Why Burger King has decided this was the way to go, I have no idea. But then, I’ve no idea about a lot of things.

Imagine if you were to accidentally drop some mala paste into a bag of sugar, and that’s pretty much what it is.

But the Burger King mala burger does have one redeeming quality. Actually, make that four, because you can quadruple-patty the thing. Which presents its own unique set of challenges, the most obvious of which being how, unless you’re a snake, dislocate your jaw to make it fit in your mouth.

The second big issue being how you’d probably earn yourself a one-way ticket to diabetes hell if you finish it. You will no doubt know that diabetes is one of the biggest threats our fine nation has to deal with in the coming years.

Plus, there’s also the risk of a kaiju attack, but then that probably falls under force majeure , so yeah.

It would bring tears to our esteemed leader’s eyes, and not just because of how sweet it is. I mean, mala literally brings tears to the eyes of most people.

And no, I’m not a chili lightweight. Just because you (you know who you are with your smugness) ate a ghost pepper-laced taco on a dare and pretended it didn’t cauterise the inside of your mouth doesn’t make you better than me.

But anyway, the mala burger does have one good thing going for it. The sour cream, cucumbers and lettuce really are a rather nice touch. It adds some useful contrast to the spiciness.

A pity, then, that there’s nothing to serve as a counterpoint to the sweetness. Except perhaps the salty tears of anti-diabetes campaigners.

10-word review: Lots of sugar, not much spice, and not very nice
Best paired with: A shot of insulin


The Snackdown review: Burger King mala burger

Mala calls to mind many things, but being stupidly sweet is probably the last thing you might expect.

As an amateur journalist (as in, the kind that never achieved professional status owing to lack of ability, not the kind that does it for a hobby and also because writing about snacks hardly counts as a viable career), one of the interview questions that I hate to ask/hear being asked is the one that goes, “if you could go back in time, what advice would you give your younger self”.

First of all, to quote a certain Dr Bruce Banner from Avengers: Endgame , “Time doesn’t work that way. Changing the past doesn’t change the future.”

That also kinda explains the endless Terminator reboots and retcons, but on the other hand, it wouldn’t really matter if John Connor died or not. Skynet would still nuke humanity off the face of the planet and the resistance would have found another leader anyway.

And secondly, it’s complete rubbish, because the person you are today is the result of the decisions you made yesterday .

I’ll give you example, if a young Snacktivist’s mother didn’t buy him a 12-piece box of McNuggets only to give him two and THROW THE OTHER 10 AWAY IN FRONT OF HIM, he would have grown up a far better-adjusted individual.

Going back in time, intercepting the McNuggets before they made it to the bin and giving them to my younger self changes nothing. I’m sure I could dig up a few more neuroses. It’s one of the few things I have in abundance.

But that’s enough about my mother and my issues. I already talk about it way too much during therapy anyway.

What my lower intestines were telling me as soon as I saw the violently red chilli oil soaking through the (supposedly) greasproof paper was impending death, destruction and doom.

Back to my main point: If I absolutely had to choose one thing to say to an adolescent Snacktivist (aside from getting therapy earlier and possibly matricide), and even then, this is aonly if I had a gun to my head, threats to kill my firstborn and the forfeiture of bacon for the rest of my life, I’d tell myself to “listen to your gut”.

Not in that maudlin listen to your instincts sort of rubbish that the inspirational posters always tell you to, but to listen to your gut . As in your gastrointestinal tract.

And what my lower intestines were telling me as soon as I saw the violently red chilli oil soaking through the (supposedly) greasproof paper was impending death, destruction and doom. Not necessarily in that order, not consecutively and most certainly not mutually exclusive.

Obviously the genius who said “there’s nothing to fear but fear itself” never had anything mala.

You see, I have a love-hate relationship with it. As in my tastebuds love it, but my lower intestines, particularly the terminus of said intestines, along with the rest of my digestive system, for that matter, absolutely hates it.

When mala is done well, the numbing heat from the Sichuan peppers plus other assorted spices is a riot of flavour. What it does to my stomach also is a riot, but I digress.

Good mala is a riot of nuanced spiciness, but this nuance is woefully lacking in Burger King’s new mala burger.

What I’m trying to get at is mala — when done right — isn’t just spicy. It also has a great deal of herbal and spicy undertones that you can just about get at while trying to eat with a tongue that somehow has numbed itself into oblivion.

It’s this nuance that’s woefully lacking in Burger King’s new mala burger.

Actually, it could be amazing if you like sugar. I mea n, really like sugar. Like, actual sugar granules , because that’s what it feels the mala paste is made of.

Sugar granules, if you think I’m being a little obtuse.

Imagine if you were to accidentally drop some mala paste into a bag of sugar, and that’s pretty much what it is.

Why Burger King has decided this was the way to go, I have no idea. But then, I’ve no idea about a lot of things.

Imagine if you were to accidentally drop some mala paste into a bag of sugar, and that’s pretty much what it is.

But the Burger King mala burger does have one redeeming quality. Actually, make that four, because you can quadruple-patty the thing. Which presents its own unique set of challenges, the most obvious of which being how, unless you’re a snake, dislocate your jaw to make it fit in your mouth.

The second big issue being how you’d probably earn yourself a one-way ticket to diabetes hell if you finish it. You will no doubt know that diabetes is one of the biggest threats our fine nation has to deal with in the coming years.

Plus, there’s also the risk of a kaiju attack, but then that probably falls under force majeure , so yeah.

It would bring tears to our esteemed leader’s eyes, and not just because of how sweet it is. I mean, mala literally brings tears to the eyes of most people.

And no, I’m not a chili lightweight. Just because you (you know who you are with your smugness) ate a ghost pepper-laced taco on a dare and pretended it didn’t cauterise the inside of your mouth doesn’t make you better than me.

But anyway, the mala burger does have one good thing going for it. The sour cream, cucumbers and lettuce really are a rather nice touch. It adds some useful contrast to the spiciness.

A pity, then, that there’s nothing to serve as a counterpoint to the sweetness. Except perhaps the salty tears of anti-diabetes campaigners.

10-word review: Lots of sugar, not much spice, and not very nice
Best paired with: A shot of insulin


The Snackdown review: Burger King mala burger

Mala calls to mind many things, but being stupidly sweet is probably the last thing you might expect.

As an amateur journalist (as in, the kind that never achieved professional status owing to lack of ability, not the kind that does it for a hobby and also because writing about snacks hardly counts as a viable career), one of the interview questions that I hate to ask/hear being asked is the one that goes, “if you could go back in time, what advice would you give your younger self”.

First of all, to quote a certain Dr Bruce Banner from Avengers: Endgame , “Time doesn’t work that way. Changing the past doesn’t change the future.”

That also kinda explains the endless Terminator reboots and retcons, but on the other hand, it wouldn’t really matter if John Connor died or not. Skynet would still nuke humanity off the face of the planet and the resistance would have found another leader anyway.

And secondly, it’s complete rubbish, because the person you are today is the result of the decisions you made yesterday .

I’ll give you example, if a young Snacktivist’s mother didn’t buy him a 12-piece box of McNuggets only to give him two and THROW THE OTHER 10 AWAY IN FRONT OF HIM, he would have grown up a far better-adjusted individual.

Going back in time, intercepting the McNuggets before they made it to the bin and giving them to my younger self changes nothing. I’m sure I could dig up a few more neuroses. It’s one of the few things I have in abundance.

But that’s enough about my mother and my issues. I already talk about it way too much during therapy anyway.

What my lower intestines were telling me as soon as I saw the violently red chilli oil soaking through the (supposedly) greasproof paper was impending death, destruction and doom.

Back to my main point: If I absolutely had to choose one thing to say to an adolescent Snacktivist (aside from getting therapy earlier and possibly matricide), and even then, this is aonly if I had a gun to my head, threats to kill my firstborn and the forfeiture of bacon for the rest of my life, I’d tell myself to “listen to your gut”.

Not in that maudlin listen to your instincts sort of rubbish that the inspirational posters always tell you to, but to listen to your gut . As in your gastrointestinal tract.

And what my lower intestines were telling me as soon as I saw the violently red chilli oil soaking through the (supposedly) greasproof paper was impending death, destruction and doom. Not necessarily in that order, not consecutively and most certainly not mutually exclusive.

Obviously the genius who said “there’s nothing to fear but fear itself” never had anything mala.

You see, I have a love-hate relationship with it. As in my tastebuds love it, but my lower intestines, particularly the terminus of said intestines, along with the rest of my digestive system, for that matter, absolutely hates it.

When mala is done well, the numbing heat from the Sichuan peppers plus other assorted spices is a riot of flavour. What it does to my stomach also is a riot, but I digress.

Good mala is a riot of nuanced spiciness, but this nuance is woefully lacking in Burger King’s new mala burger.

What I’m trying to get at is mala — when done right — isn’t just spicy. It also has a great deal of herbal and spicy undertones that you can just about get at while trying to eat with a tongue that somehow has numbed itself into oblivion.

It’s this nuance that’s woefully lacking in Burger King’s new mala burger.

Actually, it could be amazing if you like sugar. I mea n, really like sugar. Like, actual sugar granules , because that’s what it feels the mala paste is made of.

Sugar granules, if you think I’m being a little obtuse.

Imagine if you were to accidentally drop some mala paste into a bag of sugar, and that’s pretty much what it is.

Why Burger King has decided this was the way to go, I have no idea. But then, I’ve no idea about a lot of things.

Imagine if you were to accidentally drop some mala paste into a bag of sugar, and that’s pretty much what it is.

But the Burger King mala burger does have one redeeming quality. Actually, make that four, because you can quadruple-patty the thing. Which presents its own unique set of challenges, the most obvious of which being how, unless you’re a snake, dislocate your jaw to make it fit in your mouth.

The second big issue being how you’d probably earn yourself a one-way ticket to diabetes hell if you finish it. You will no doubt know that diabetes is one of the biggest threats our fine nation has to deal with in the coming years.

Plus, there’s also the risk of a kaiju attack, but then that probably falls under force majeure , so yeah.

It would bring tears to our esteemed leader’s eyes, and not just because of how sweet it is. I mean, mala literally brings tears to the eyes of most people.

And no, I’m not a chili lightweight. Just because you (you know who you are with your smugness) ate a ghost pepper-laced taco on a dare and pretended it didn’t cauterise the inside of your mouth doesn’t make you better than me.

But anyway, the mala burger does have one good thing going for it. The sour cream, cucumbers and lettuce really are a rather nice touch. It adds some useful contrast to the spiciness.

A pity, then, that there’s nothing to serve as a counterpoint to the sweetness. Except perhaps the salty tears of anti-diabetes campaigners.

10-word review: Lots of sugar, not much spice, and not very nice
Best paired with: A shot of insulin


The Snackdown review: Burger King mala burger

Mala calls to mind many things, but being stupidly sweet is probably the last thing you might expect.

As an amateur journalist (as in, the kind that never achieved professional status owing to lack of ability, not the kind that does it for a hobby and also because writing about snacks hardly counts as a viable career), one of the interview questions that I hate to ask/hear being asked is the one that goes, “if you could go back in time, what advice would you give your younger self”.

First of all, to quote a certain Dr Bruce Banner from Avengers: Endgame , “Time doesn’t work that way. Changing the past doesn’t change the future.”

That also kinda explains the endless Terminator reboots and retcons, but on the other hand, it wouldn’t really matter if John Connor died or not. Skynet would still nuke humanity off the face of the planet and the resistance would have found another leader anyway.

And secondly, it’s complete rubbish, because the person you are today is the result of the decisions you made yesterday .

I’ll give you example, if a young Snacktivist’s mother didn’t buy him a 12-piece box of McNuggets only to give him two and THROW THE OTHER 10 AWAY IN FRONT OF HIM, he would have grown up a far better-adjusted individual.

Going back in time, intercepting the McNuggets before they made it to the bin and giving them to my younger self changes nothing. I’m sure I could dig up a few more neuroses. It’s one of the few things I have in abundance.

But that’s enough about my mother and my issues. I already talk about it way too much during therapy anyway.

What my lower intestines were telling me as soon as I saw the violently red chilli oil soaking through the (supposedly) greasproof paper was impending death, destruction and doom.

Back to my main point: If I absolutely had to choose one thing to say to an adolescent Snacktivist (aside from getting therapy earlier and possibly matricide), and even then, this is aonly if I had a gun to my head, threats to kill my firstborn and the forfeiture of bacon for the rest of my life, I’d tell myself to “listen to your gut”.

Not in that maudlin listen to your instincts sort of rubbish that the inspirational posters always tell you to, but to listen to your gut . As in your gastrointestinal tract.

And what my lower intestines were telling me as soon as I saw the violently red chilli oil soaking through the (supposedly) greasproof paper was impending death, destruction and doom. Not necessarily in that order, not consecutively and most certainly not mutually exclusive.

Obviously the genius who said “there’s nothing to fear but fear itself” never had anything mala.

You see, I have a love-hate relationship with it. As in my tastebuds love it, but my lower intestines, particularly the terminus of said intestines, along with the rest of my digestive system, for that matter, absolutely hates it.

When mala is done well, the numbing heat from the Sichuan peppers plus other assorted spices is a riot of flavour. What it does to my stomach also is a riot, but I digress.

Good mala is a riot of nuanced spiciness, but this nuance is woefully lacking in Burger King’s new mala burger.

What I’m trying to get at is mala — when done right — isn’t just spicy. It also has a great deal of herbal and spicy undertones that you can just about get at while trying to eat with a tongue that somehow has numbed itself into oblivion.

It’s this nuance that’s woefully lacking in Burger King’s new mala burger.

Actually, it could be amazing if you like sugar. I mea n, really like sugar. Like, actual sugar granules , because that’s what it feels the mala paste is made of.

Sugar granules, if you think I’m being a little obtuse.

Imagine if you were to accidentally drop some mala paste into a bag of sugar, and that’s pretty much what it is.

Why Burger King has decided this was the way to go, I have no idea. But then, I’ve no idea about a lot of things.

Imagine if you were to accidentally drop some mala paste into a bag of sugar, and that’s pretty much what it is.

But the Burger King mala burger does have one redeeming quality. Actually, make that four, because you can quadruple-patty the thing. Which presents its own unique set of challenges, the most obvious of which being how, unless you’re a snake, dislocate your jaw to make it fit in your mouth.

The second big issue being how you’d probably earn yourself a one-way ticket to diabetes hell if you finish it. You will no doubt know that diabetes is one of the biggest threats our fine nation has to deal with in the coming years.

Plus, there’s also the risk of a kaiju attack, but then that probably falls under force majeure , so yeah.

It would bring tears to our esteemed leader’s eyes, and not just because of how sweet it is. I mean, mala literally brings tears to the eyes of most people.

And no, I’m not a chili lightweight. Just because you (you know who you are with your smugness) ate a ghost pepper-laced taco on a dare and pretended it didn’t cauterise the inside of your mouth doesn’t make you better than me.

But anyway, the mala burger does have one good thing going for it. The sour cream, cucumbers and lettuce really are a rather nice touch. It adds some useful contrast to the spiciness.

A pity, then, that there’s nothing to serve as a counterpoint to the sweetness. Except perhaps the salty tears of anti-diabetes campaigners.

10-word review: Lots of sugar, not much spice, and not very nice
Best paired with: A shot of insulin


The Snackdown review: Burger King mala burger

Mala calls to mind many things, but being stupidly sweet is probably the last thing you might expect.

As an amateur journalist (as in, the kind that never achieved professional status owing to lack of ability, not the kind that does it for a hobby and also because writing about snacks hardly counts as a viable career), one of the interview questions that I hate to ask/hear being asked is the one that goes, “if you could go back in time, what advice would you give your younger self”.

First of all, to quote a certain Dr Bruce Banner from Avengers: Endgame , “Time doesn’t work that way. Changing the past doesn’t change the future.”

That also kinda explains the endless Terminator reboots and retcons, but on the other hand, it wouldn’t really matter if John Connor died or not. Skynet would still nuke humanity off the face of the planet and the resistance would have found another leader anyway.

And secondly, it’s complete rubbish, because the person you are today is the result of the decisions you made yesterday .

I’ll give you example, if a young Snacktivist’s mother didn’t buy him a 12-piece box of McNuggets only to give him two and THROW THE OTHER 10 AWAY IN FRONT OF HIM, he would have grown up a far better-adjusted individual.

Going back in time, intercepting the McNuggets before they made it to the bin and giving them to my younger self changes nothing. I’m sure I could dig up a few more neuroses. It’s one of the few things I have in abundance.

But that’s enough about my mother and my issues. I already talk about it way too much during therapy anyway.

What my lower intestines were telling me as soon as I saw the violently red chilli oil soaking through the (supposedly) greasproof paper was impending death, destruction and doom.

Back to my main point: If I absolutely had to choose one thing to say to an adolescent Snacktivist (aside from getting therapy earlier and possibly matricide), and even then, this is aonly if I had a gun to my head, threats to kill my firstborn and the forfeiture of bacon for the rest of my life, I’d tell myself to “listen to your gut”.

Not in that maudlin listen to your instincts sort of rubbish that the inspirational posters always tell you to, but to listen to your gut . As in your gastrointestinal tract.

And what my lower intestines were telling me as soon as I saw the violently red chilli oil soaking through the (supposedly) greasproof paper was impending death, destruction and doom. Not necessarily in that order, not consecutively and most certainly not mutually exclusive.

Obviously the genius who said “there’s nothing to fear but fear itself” never had anything mala.

You see, I have a love-hate relationship with it. As in my tastebuds love it, but my lower intestines, particularly the terminus of said intestines, along with the rest of my digestive system, for that matter, absolutely hates it.

When mala is done well, the numbing heat from the Sichuan peppers plus other assorted spices is a riot of flavour. What it does to my stomach also is a riot, but I digress.

Good mala is a riot of nuanced spiciness, but this nuance is woefully lacking in Burger King’s new mala burger.

What I’m trying to get at is mala — when done right — isn’t just spicy. It also has a great deal of herbal and spicy undertones that you can just about get at while trying to eat with a tongue that somehow has numbed itself into oblivion.

It’s this nuance that’s woefully lacking in Burger King’s new mala burger.

Actually, it could be amazing if you like sugar. I mea n, really like sugar. Like, actual sugar granules , because that’s what it feels the mala paste is made of.

Sugar granules, if you think I’m being a little obtuse.

Imagine if you were to accidentally drop some mala paste into a bag of sugar, and that’s pretty much what it is.

Why Burger King has decided this was the way to go, I have no idea. But then, I’ve no idea about a lot of things.

Imagine if you were to accidentally drop some mala paste into a bag of sugar, and that’s pretty much what it is.

But the Burger King mala burger does have one redeeming quality. Actually, make that four, because you can quadruple-patty the thing. Which presents its own unique set of challenges, the most obvious of which being how, unless you’re a snake, dislocate your jaw to make it fit in your mouth.

The second big issue being how you’d probably earn yourself a one-way ticket to diabetes hell if you finish it. You will no doubt know that diabetes is one of the biggest threats our fine nation has to deal with in the coming years.

Plus, there’s also the risk of a kaiju attack, but then that probably falls under force majeure , so yeah.

It would bring tears to our esteemed leader’s eyes, and not just because of how sweet it is. I mean, mala literally brings tears to the eyes of most people.

And no, I’m not a chili lightweight. Just because you (you know who you are with your smugness) ate a ghost pepper-laced taco on a dare and pretended it didn’t cauterise the inside of your mouth doesn’t make you better than me.

But anyway, the mala burger does have one good thing going for it. The sour cream, cucumbers and lettuce really are a rather nice touch. It adds some useful contrast to the spiciness.

A pity, then, that there’s nothing to serve as a counterpoint to the sweetness. Except perhaps the salty tears of anti-diabetes campaigners.

10-word review: Lots of sugar, not much spice, and not very nice
Best paired with: A shot of insulin


The Snackdown review: Burger King mala burger

Mala calls to mind many things, but being stupidly sweet is probably the last thing you might expect.

As an amateur journalist (as in, the kind that never achieved professional status owing to lack of ability, not the kind that does it for a hobby and also because writing about snacks hardly counts as a viable career), one of the interview questions that I hate to ask/hear being asked is the one that goes, “if you could go back in time, what advice would you give your younger self”.

First of all, to quote a certain Dr Bruce Banner from Avengers: Endgame , “Time doesn’t work that way. Changing the past doesn’t change the future.”

That also kinda explains the endless Terminator reboots and retcons, but on the other hand, it wouldn’t really matter if John Connor died or not. Skynet would still nuke humanity off the face of the planet and the resistance would have found another leader anyway.

And secondly, it’s complete rubbish, because the person you are today is the result of the decisions you made yesterday .

I’ll give you example, if a young Snacktivist’s mother didn’t buy him a 12-piece box of McNuggets only to give him two and THROW THE OTHER 10 AWAY IN FRONT OF HIM, he would have grown up a far better-adjusted individual.

Going back in time, intercepting the McNuggets before they made it to the bin and giving them to my younger self changes nothing. I’m sure I could dig up a few more neuroses. It’s one of the few things I have in abundance.

But that’s enough about my mother and my issues. I already talk about it way too much during therapy anyway.

What my lower intestines were telling me as soon as I saw the violently red chilli oil soaking through the (supposedly) greasproof paper was impending death, destruction and doom.

Back to my main point: If I absolutely had to choose one thing to say to an adolescent Snacktivist (aside from getting therapy earlier and possibly matricide), and even then, this is aonly if I had a gun to my head, threats to kill my firstborn and the forfeiture of bacon for the rest of my life, I’d tell myself to “listen to your gut”.

Not in that maudlin listen to your instincts sort of rubbish that the inspirational posters always tell you to, but to listen to your gut . As in your gastrointestinal tract.

And what my lower intestines were telling me as soon as I saw the violently red chilli oil soaking through the (supposedly) greasproof paper was impending death, destruction and doom. Not necessarily in that order, not consecutively and most certainly not mutually exclusive.

Obviously the genius who said “there’s nothing to fear but fear itself” never had anything mala.

You see, I have a love-hate relationship with it. As in my tastebuds love it, but my lower intestines, particularly the terminus of said intestines, along with the rest of my digestive system, for that matter, absolutely hates it.

When mala is done well, the numbing heat from the Sichuan peppers plus other assorted spices is a riot of flavour. What it does to my stomach also is a riot, but I digress.

Good mala is a riot of nuanced spiciness, but this nuance is woefully lacking in Burger King’s new mala burger.

What I’m trying to get at is mala — when done right — isn’t just spicy. It also has a great deal of herbal and spicy undertones that you can just about get at while trying to eat with a tongue that somehow has numbed itself into oblivion.

It’s this nuance that’s woefully lacking in Burger King’s new mala burger.

Actually, it could be amazing if you like sugar. I mea n, really like sugar. Like, actual sugar granules , because that’s what it feels the mala paste is made of.

Sugar granules, if you think I’m being a little obtuse.

Imagine if you were to accidentally drop some mala paste into a bag of sugar, and that’s pretty much what it is.

Why Burger King has decided this was the way to go, I have no idea. But then, I’ve no idea about a lot of things.

Imagine if you were to accidentally drop some mala paste into a bag of sugar, and that’s pretty much what it is.

But the Burger King mala burger does have one redeeming quality. Actually, make that four, because you can quadruple-patty the thing. Which presents its own unique set of challenges, the most obvious of which being how, unless you’re a snake, dislocate your jaw to make it fit in your mouth.

The second big issue being how you’d probably earn yourself a one-way ticket to diabetes hell if you finish it. You will no doubt know that diabetes is one of the biggest threats our fine nation has to deal with in the coming years.

Plus, there’s also the risk of a kaiju attack, but then that probably falls under force majeure , so yeah.

It would bring tears to our esteemed leader’s eyes, and not just because of how sweet it is. I mean, mala literally brings tears to the eyes of most people.

And no, I’m not a chili lightweight. Just because you (you know who you are with your smugness) ate a ghost pepper-laced taco on a dare and pretended it didn’t cauterise the inside of your mouth doesn’t make you better than me.

But anyway, the mala burger does have one good thing going for it. The sour cream, cucumbers and lettuce really are a rather nice touch. It adds some useful contrast to the spiciness.

A pity, then, that there’s nothing to serve as a counterpoint to the sweetness. Except perhaps the salty tears of anti-diabetes campaigners.

10-word review: Lots of sugar, not much spice, and not very nice
Best paired with: A shot of insulin


The Snackdown review: Burger King mala burger

Mala calls to mind many things, but being stupidly sweet is probably the last thing you might expect.

As an amateur journalist (as in, the kind that never achieved professional status owing to lack of ability, not the kind that does it for a hobby and also because writing about snacks hardly counts as a viable career), one of the interview questions that I hate to ask/hear being asked is the one that goes, “if you could go back in time, what advice would you give your younger self”.

First of all, to quote a certain Dr Bruce Banner from Avengers: Endgame , “Time doesn’t work that way. Changing the past doesn’t change the future.”

That also kinda explains the endless Terminator reboots and retcons, but on the other hand, it wouldn’t really matter if John Connor died or not. Skynet would still nuke humanity off the face of the planet and the resistance would have found another leader anyway.

And secondly, it’s complete rubbish, because the person you are today is the result of the decisions you made yesterday .

I’ll give you example, if a young Snacktivist’s mother didn’t buy him a 12-piece box of McNuggets only to give him two and THROW THE OTHER 10 AWAY IN FRONT OF HIM, he would have grown up a far better-adjusted individual.

Going back in time, intercepting the McNuggets before they made it to the bin and giving them to my younger self changes nothing. I’m sure I could dig up a few more neuroses. It’s one of the few things I have in abundance.

But that’s enough about my mother and my issues. I already talk about it way too much during therapy anyway.

What my lower intestines were telling me as soon as I saw the violently red chilli oil soaking through the (supposedly) greasproof paper was impending death, destruction and doom.

Back to my main point: If I absolutely had to choose one thing to say to an adolescent Snacktivist (aside from getting therapy earlier and possibly matricide), and even then, this is aonly if I had a gun to my head, threats to kill my firstborn and the forfeiture of bacon for the rest of my life, I’d tell myself to “listen to your gut”.

Not in that maudlin listen to your instincts sort of rubbish that the inspirational posters always tell you to, but to listen to your gut . As in your gastrointestinal tract.

And what my lower intestines were telling me as soon as I saw the violently red chilli oil soaking through the (supposedly) greasproof paper was impending death, destruction and doom. Not necessarily in that order, not consecutively and most certainly not mutually exclusive.

Obviously the genius who said “there’s nothing to fear but fear itself” never had anything mala.

You see, I have a love-hate relationship with it. As in my tastebuds love it, but my lower intestines, particularly the terminus of said intestines, along with the rest of my digestive system, for that matter, absolutely hates it.

When mala is done well, the numbing heat from the Sichuan peppers plus other assorted spices is a riot of flavour. What it does to my stomach also is a riot, but I digress.

Good mala is a riot of nuanced spiciness, but this nuance is woefully lacking in Burger King’s new mala burger.

What I’m trying to get at is mala — when done right — isn’t just spicy. It also has a great deal of herbal and spicy undertones that you can just about get at while trying to eat with a tongue that somehow has numbed itself into oblivion.

It’s this nuance that’s woefully lacking in Burger King’s new mala burger.

Actually, it could be amazing if you like sugar. I mea n, really like sugar. Like, actual sugar granules , because that’s what it feels the mala paste is made of.

Sugar granules, if you think I’m being a little obtuse.

Imagine if you were to accidentally drop some mala paste into a bag of sugar, and that’s pretty much what it is.

Why Burger King has decided this was the way to go, I have no idea. But then, I’ve no idea about a lot of things.

Imagine if you were to accidentally drop some mala paste into a bag of sugar, and that’s pretty much what it is.

But the Burger King mala burger does have one redeeming quality. Actually, make that four, because you can quadruple-patty the thing. Which presents its own unique set of challenges, the most obvious of which being how, unless you’re a snake, dislocate your jaw to make it fit in your mouth.

The second big issue being how you’d probably earn yourself a one-way ticket to diabetes hell if you finish it. You will no doubt know that diabetes is one of the biggest threats our fine nation has to deal with in the coming years.

Plus, there’s also the risk of a kaiju attack, but then that probably falls under force majeure , so yeah.

It would bring tears to our esteemed leader’s eyes, and not just because of how sweet it is. I mean, mala literally brings tears to the eyes of most people.

And no, I’m not a chili lightweight. Just because you (you know who you are with your smugness) ate a ghost pepper-laced taco on a dare and pretended it didn’t cauterise the inside of your mouth doesn’t make you better than me.

But anyway, the mala burger does have one good thing going for it. The sour cream, cucumbers and lettuce really are a rather nice touch. It adds some useful contrast to the spiciness.

A pity, then, that there’s nothing to serve as a counterpoint to the sweetness. Except perhaps the salty tears of anti-diabetes campaigners.

10-word review: Lots of sugar, not much spice, and not very nice
Best paired with: A shot of insulin


The Snackdown review: Burger King mala burger

Mala calls to mind many things, but being stupidly sweet is probably the last thing you might expect.

As an amateur journalist (as in, the kind that never achieved professional status owing to lack of ability, not the kind that does it for a hobby and also because writing about snacks hardly counts as a viable career), one of the interview questions that I hate to ask/hear being asked is the one that goes, “if you could go back in time, what advice would you give your younger self”.

First of all, to quote a certain Dr Bruce Banner from Avengers: Endgame , “Time doesn’t work that way. Changing the past doesn’t change the future.”

That also kinda explains the endless Terminator reboots and retcons, but on the other hand, it wouldn’t really matter if John Connor died or not. Skynet would still nuke humanity off the face of the planet and the resistance would have found another leader anyway.

And secondly, it’s complete rubbish, because the person you are today is the result of the decisions you made yesterday .

I’ll give you example, if a young Snacktivist’s mother didn’t buy him a 12-piece box of McNuggets only to give him two and THROW THE OTHER 10 AWAY IN FRONT OF HIM, he would have grown up a far better-adjusted individual.

Going back in time, intercepting the McNuggets before they made it to the bin and giving them to my younger self changes nothing. I’m sure I could dig up a few more neuroses. It’s one of the few things I have in abundance.

But that’s enough about my mother and my issues. I already talk about it way too much during therapy anyway.

What my lower intestines were telling me as soon as I saw the violently red chilli oil soaking through the (supposedly) greasproof paper was impending death, destruction and doom.

Back to my main point: If I absolutely had to choose one thing to say to an adolescent Snacktivist (aside from getting therapy earlier and possibly matricide), and even then, this is aonly if I had a gun to my head, threats to kill my firstborn and the forfeiture of bacon for the rest of my life, I’d tell myself to “listen to your gut”.

Not in that maudlin listen to your instincts sort of rubbish that the inspirational posters always tell you to, but to listen to your gut . As in your gastrointestinal tract.

And what my lower intestines were telling me as soon as I saw the violently red chilli oil soaking through the (supposedly) greasproof paper was impending death, destruction and doom. Not necessarily in that order, not consecutively and most certainly not mutually exclusive.

Obviously the genius who said “there’s nothing to fear but fear itself” never had anything mala.

You see, I have a love-hate relationship with it. As in my tastebuds love it, but my lower intestines, particularly the terminus of said intestines, along with the rest of my digestive system, for that matter, absolutely hates it.

When mala is done well, the numbing heat from the Sichuan peppers plus other assorted spices is a riot of flavour. What it does to my stomach also is a riot, but I digress.

Good mala is a riot of nuanced spiciness, but this nuance is woefully lacking in Burger King’s new mala burger.

What I’m trying to get at is mala — when done right — isn’t just spicy. It also has a great deal of herbal and spicy undertones that you can just about get at while trying to eat with a tongue that somehow has numbed itself into oblivion.

It’s this nuance that’s woefully lacking in Burger King’s new mala burger.

Actually, it could be amazing if you like sugar. I mea n, really like sugar. Like, actual sugar granules , because that’s what it feels the mala paste is made of.

Sugar granules, if you think I’m being a little obtuse.

Imagine if you were to accidentally drop some mala paste into a bag of sugar, and that’s pretty much what it is.

Why Burger King has decided this was the way to go, I have no idea. But then, I’ve no idea about a lot of things.

Imagine if you were to accidentally drop some mala paste into a bag of sugar, and that’s pretty much what it is.

But the Burger King mala burger does have one redeeming quality. Actually, make that four, because you can quadruple-patty the thing. Which presents its own unique set of challenges, the most obvious of which being how, unless you’re a snake, dislocate your jaw to make it fit in your mouth.

The second big issue being how you’d probably earn yourself a one-way ticket to diabetes hell if you finish it. You will no doubt know that diabetes is one of the biggest threats our fine nation has to deal with in the coming years.

Plus, there’s also the risk of a kaiju attack, but then that probably falls under force majeure , so yeah.

It would bring tears to our esteemed leader’s eyes, and not just because of how sweet it is. I mean, mala literally brings tears to the eyes of most people.

And no, I’m not a chili lightweight. Just because you (you know who you are with your smugness) ate a ghost pepper-laced taco on a dare and pretended it didn’t cauterise the inside of your mouth doesn’t make you better than me.

But anyway, the mala burger does have one good thing going for it. The sour cream, cucumbers and lettuce really are a rather nice touch. It adds some useful contrast to the spiciness.

A pity, then, that there’s nothing to serve as a counterpoint to the sweetness. Except perhaps the salty tears of anti-diabetes campaigners.

10-word review: Lots of sugar, not much spice, and not very nice
Best paired with: A shot of insulin


Watch the video: Doritos Super Bowl Commercial 2021. 6 Chips Apart (September 2021).