Why Did I Eat This? Wawa's Pulled Pork Burrito

This is probably the least appetizing picture of Mexican food I have ever seen.

Most people or places can't be everything to everyone, but Wawa will certainly never stop trying. The latest in their attempt to leverage trends is the burrito, whose launch happened right around the time of the E.coli outbreak at Chipotle. Coincedence? Perhaps, but I'll leave that to the 9/11 truthers and other people who wear tin foil hats. I am merely here to discuss the successes and failures of mass produced foodstuffs and whether you should give them a try. Is the Wawa burrito a success? Let's analyze a few key performance indicators to make the decision:

Heft: Wawa's value proposition, like the rest of the fast food world, wants to kill you. An abundance of food for little money makes everyone happy, including me. Whether that food is wholesome is another story. Once assembled, Wawa's burrito weighs in at over a pound, which isn't bad for five bucks. Grade: A-

Tortilla: The tortilla itself is passable, but Wawa uses the same industrial grade toaster they use for hoagies to warm up the assembled burrito. Mine was left in the dry heat of this contraption too long, leaving my tortilla as brittle as stale matzo. Grade: B-

Rice: As great of a cook that my mother was (and still is), her rice skills sucked. Rice was an afterthought after beans and green chile, and to this day, I still question its presence in a burrito. Wawa's rice was reminiscent of my mom's, a watery mess of bland overcooked mush. Grade: C

Beans: Beans are easy to fuck up, unless said beans are from a can. Like Wawa's. Grade: B+

Pulled Pork: I had the utmost confidence that this would be the worst part of the burrito. Wawa's meats are of the boil-in-bag variety. Surprisingly, despite the pork being underseasoned, it had a excellent texture and it was hard to tell whether it actually came from a boil-in-bag. Grade: A-

Overall Grade: B.

I'm just as surprised as you are, though I'll probably stick to hoagies moving forward. Buen provecho.

Wawa Employees are Stoners

Duuude. We should put BBQ sauce AND honey mustard on it. And pickles. And jalapenos. And onions. And cheese. Dude. Dude.

It's Hoagiefest, motherfuckers! For the next however many weeks, Wawa--the Philly area's mega-bodega--is offering deeply discounted 10" hoagies. To keep things interesting, the suits and ties at corporate looked to the employees this year to expand hoagie offerings beyond hot and cold and meatball and turkey.

The result is a menu of sandwiches bursting at the seams with every meat, cheese, topping, and condiment available, which is a telling tale of how some Wawa associates spend their free time. I'm not judging here. This is a boon to fat asses like me who appreciate a kitchen sink sandwich daily every now and again.

If you're feeling Colorado (or just plain curious), each creation is already programmed into the touch screen for ease of ordering. I tried the Texas Two-Step (pictured above) yesterday, and I was not at all disappointed with the combination of chicken fingers, jalapenos, honey mustard, BBQ sauce, pickles, and cheddar. Sounds hectic, but it works. Here are a couple more clear examples of recipes that really earn the tie-dye hoagiefest t-shirt:

The Flock: Turkey, Roast Beef, Ranch Dressing, Creamy Chipotle Spread, Spinach, Pepper Jack, Sweet Peppers, Tomato, Jalapeno

Wild Imagination: Cheesesteak Meat, Chicken, Ranch Dressing, Creamy Chipotle Spread, Buffalo Sauce, Provolone, Pepper Jack, Lettuce, Spinach, Tomato, Jalapeno, Pickles 

I forget how long the promo runs, but it's probably the best $4.99 you'll spend all Summer. Oh yeah, and they've got a game called Hoagiequest if you need a break from your first-person shooter. Buen provecho.

Why Did I Eat This?

In nature, warning signs abound for things you're not supposed to eat. The cactus has thorns, the lobster has claws (but mad props to the guy who figured out a way to get at its delicious meat), and poo smells like, well, poo.  Under the fluorescent lights of a bustling Wawa, the signs are there, but you need to look a little closer. 

After two artificially flavored successes, Herr's suffers a face mangling fall from grace with their Kansas City Prime Steak Flavor potato chips.  If the shittily designed packaging was any indicator of what lurked inside, I should have heeded its warning.  The off-putting "Western" font whose name I can't place (because I'm not well-versed in fonts), the brown-checked background, and a floating steak that looks like it came from an old Sizzler advertisement. Clearly Herr's is paying the flavor fellas more than the graphics guys.  I could have opened a packet of Lipton Onion Soup Mix and gotten the same result, an overly salty and artificial crunch that could only be delicious if I were exiled to the eternal blackness of a space station behind the moon, and there was nothing left to eat after the other dude lost the coin toss.  Space station or no, there's a better use for a dollar.  Buen provecho.

Why Did I Eat This?

It's called "The Gobbler."  Translation? You need to eat this pile of mush lightning fast. Otherwise, call up the IT boys and order a keyboard replacement, because that's where most of the cranberry sauce, stuffing, and gravy will wind up.  There are few better ways to ingest 1,000% of your daily intake of sodium than this mess of a holiday hoagie, especially for $2.99.  Buen provecho.

Available at Wawa for a limited time. You can also forgo the hoagie roll and get the same pile of shit in a plastic bowl.

Why Did I Eat This?

When the snooze bar wins, I don't get waffles, and by the time the train pulls into Suburban Station, I've convinced myself that the oatmeal in my bottom drawer can suck it, and that a greasy breakfast is in order. Further justification to eat such crap came in the (square) form of turkey sausage and no bread, and the result is the Wawa Breakfast Bowl above. Zero points for presentation (although the lady behind the counter was singing along to "Let's Hear it for the Boy"). The "eggs," which contain cheese, according to the asterisk, didn't taste half bad. A bit powdery, but a hint of black pepper took your mind off that. The turkey sausage patty, which I saved until the end (big mistake), had dried up and become rubbery, but again, the flavors came through (sorta). So, if we're judging on texture, this breakfast bowl can go the way of the oatmeal and suck it. I should have stuck with the heat lamp sandwiches. Buen provecho.