Editor's note: Our latest Reality Check comes from fellow burger blogger Michael Nusair (MichaelN on SE) of Canadian burger blog Tasty Burgers. Thanks, Michael! To any AHT'ers who were thinking about trying a Pizzaburger at Boston Pizza...don't. Michael tells you why in his review.

[Photograph: above, Boston Pizza; rest, Michael Nusair]

When I suggested to a friend that we go to Boston Pizza for dinner, he honestly thought I was joking. Because why would any rational person choose to go to Boston Pizza?

Why indeed.

I should explain: I was watching TV the other day, and I happened upon an ad for the Pizzaburger, which is basically a burger wrapped in a pizza. "That's ridiculous," I thought. "I should probably review that." And let me tell you, you should be sending some seriously good vibes my way; I ate this monstrosity so that you don't have to. You're welcome.

The Pizzaburger comes in two varieties: pepperoni and bacon, or five cheese. I opted for pepperoni and bacon, because if you're going to get a Pizzaburger, you may as well go all out.

The burger essentially looks like an enormous pizza pocket. It has a pickle, a slice of tomato, and some lettuce pinned to the top, but that's all essentially garnish because how are you supposed to eat that stuff? Cut it in half and cram it into the opening? Leave it on top and eat it like an open-faced sandwich? I set it aside and dug in.

Have you ever had a terrible slice of pizza and thought, "Boy, I wish I could combine this with a mediocre hamburger!" If so, you're in luck! Boston Pizza has read your mind and created a product just for you.

But you have never thought that. Because you are a rational human being. This is not for you.

I'll start with the patty, because this is a hamburger review, after all. It's a particularly mediocre frozen burger, with that off-putting hot dog texture and salty, devoid-of-anything-resembling-beef flavor. I'm not sure how they cooked it, but when I slid it out of the bun to take a peek, it was gray and devoid of any grill marks or crust from a griddle.

The sauce was generically bad pizza sauce. I honestly don't even remember exactly what it tasted like, just that it was vaguely unpleasant and very much like dozens of other varieties of bad pizza sauce that I've had in my life.

The limp, soggy bacon was also fairly poor, and accomplished nothing other than to add saltiness to an already salty product. The pepperoni was standard pepperoni, and obviously only compounded the aforementioned saltiness issue.

There was also a bunch of mozzarella in there, which didn't really add or detract from the overall product. It's a Pizzaburger though, so I guess it was necessary?

The crust was fine. It was nothing spectacular, but it's probably the only element of this thing that I really don't have any complaints about. Chewy and slightly crispy around the edges, it was perfectly acceptable pizza crust.

The Pizzaburger also came with a side of fries. They were not good. Shocker, I know! They were probably the frozen fryiest frozen fries I have ever eaten, if that makes any sense. They were pale, bland, and without an ounce of personality.

—Michael Nusair

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[This photo: Burger King; All others except where noted: Todd Brock]

Remember as a kid when there was a birthday or Christmas where your parents didn't have that one big-ticket gift you really wanted, so they tried to make up for it with a whole host of other smaller things? The shotgun approach? Well, Burger King seems to be following a similar strategy these days, having rolled out, like, a dozen new menu items all at once.

Loaded tater tots! Pina Colada Smoothie! Lattes in four flavors! Glazed doughnut holes! Please, for the love of God, just come in and order something!!

Among the new offerings are four new burgers aimed at some widely-dispersed demographics. The first is the Bacon Cheddar Stuffed Burger ($3.99), pictured above in all its professionally-primped glory. According to company literature, it's a "USDA-inspected (Really?! That's your lead selling point?) fire-grilled ground beef patty stuffed with hardwood smoked bacon and savory cheddar cheese, topped with fresh-cut lettuce, juicy tomatoes, ketchup, mayo, and crispy onion rings all on a warm, artisan-style bun." Sounds lovely, but the reality was slightly less picturesque.

Ugh. Burnt edges are so not cool. Not at your neighborhood block party when they come from the doofus down the street with his "King of the Grill" apron, and certainly not from a global corporation that was actually founded on making hamburgers.

This is the chain's second attempt at the "stuffed" burger, although like 2011's jalapeño-and-cheddar version, the extras are not so much "stuffed" into the burger in Jucy Lucy-esque fashion, but rather chopped up and folded into the meat itself. "Studded" is perhaps a better word.

From a taste standpoint, it offered nothing that a standard BK patty topped with bacon and cheese wouldn't. Once it all gets mashed around in your mouth, it's all the same. It was very hard to discern actual bits of bacon or cheese in the mix, but the flavors were kinda sorta present...if I really concentrated. Add to that some pretty lame toppings and onion rings that were steamed bland from the wrapped burger's residual heat rather than "crispy," and the King can stuff this one, for all I care.

[Photograph: Burger King]

Next up, the Chipotle Whopper ($4.29), topped with thick-cut bacon, pepper jack cheese, spicy chipotle mayo, fresh-cut lettuce, ripe tomatoes, and sweet caramelized-style onions. This is the latest tweaking of the Whopper, following a few hit-or-miss variations over the past few months to celebrate the sandwich's 55th birthday.

The real thing didn't look bad, and it was actually a decent burger. A fairly hefty sandwich, it had decent kick, some actual crunch, and a nice bit of tang from the "caramelized-style onions." (I chose not to think about what that really means too much.)

Be warned that the very orange chipotle mayo is very runny, and there's lots of it. It will likely end up all over everything. It is tasty, however, and helped make this one my favorite of the King's new foursome.

[Photograph: Burger King]

BK is going after the I-want-a-fast-food-burger-but-I-want-to-eat-healthy contingent with their next two offerings. Their new Turkey Burger ($3.99) is fire-grilled and topped with lettuce, tomato, red onions, and mayo. It's served on the same artisan-style bun as the stuffed burger.

The actual burger looked darn close to the advertised model. Yes, that weird white-and-pale-orange color is something I will never get used to in a turkey burger, but I've come to just accept that that's part of the deal. At least there were grill marks on one side.

This one is definitely helped out by the toppings. Sure, the turkey patty has that commercial/industrial blandness to it, and a weirdly fake texture to it when eaten by itself, but put it on a dense, squishy bun, give it a quick run though the garden, and help it along with some lubrication in the form of mayo and ketchup...and it's not too bad. I'm not sure how many people are flocking to BK for turkey burgers, but if that's where you happen to find yourself at mealtime and are looking for something different, it's an ok choice. I have no problem with this one.

[Photograph: Burger King]

Burger King's new Veggie Burger ($2.29), on the other hand, I do have problems with. It starts with a MorningStarFarms Garden Veggie Patty and adds lettuce, tomato, red onion, ketchup, and mayo.

The texture and color of the patty were off-putting to this die-hard carnivore. But I have been trying to broaden my horizons recently, and was willing to give it a fair shot. After all, a little mayo and crunch helped the turkey burger immensely.

But that perfectly round, perfectly fake disc of visible vegetables and grains just looked wrong. And it tasted wrong, too. It had a tough, dense mouthfeel that no amount of mayo (and there was a good deal here) could fix. I still can't put my finger on what it tasted like, but it wasn't anything in the burger family. Fans of the store-bought MorningStar Farms patties may disagree, but I'm not sure how many of them I'll be running into at BK anyway.

All four of these burgers are limited-time offerings, and I have to say that for two of them, it can't be limited enough. I could see the Turkey Burger sticking around, as it's an option that few fast-food burger joints provide. And while the Chipotle Whopper was a pleasant surprise, I have no doubt that it'll get the heave-ho sooner rather than later to make room for baby back ribs or something...as the King reloads the shotgun for more menu meanderings.

About the Author: Todd Brock lives the glamorous life of a stay-at-home freelance writer in the suburbs of Atlanta. Besides being paid to eat cheeseburgers for AHT, pizzas for Slice, and desserts for Sweets, he's written and produced over 1,000 hours of television and penned Building Chicken Coops for Dummies. When he grows up, he wants to be either the starting quarterback for the Dallas Cowboys or the drummer for Hootie & the Blowfish. Or both.

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[This photo and next: CKE Restaurants, Inc.; All others: Todd Brock]

You know what's been missing from the everything-bigger-and-crazier-and-more-extreme-than-everything-else fast food burger trend? Booze. In what the accompanying press release proudly trumpets (in the lead sentence, no less, so that's clearly what they're hanging their hat on here) as an industry first, Hardee's and Carl's Jr. have unveiled a mass-production burger "with the distinctive taste of a branded, distilled spirit." That's right. Now any underage carnivore can stroll on in and—with no fake ID required—belly up to the Jim Beam Bourbon Thickburger.

Of course, you don't have to be of age to buy a bottle of Jim Beam's BBQ sauce from your local grocer, either...and that's all that's essentially at the centerpiece of this new offering from the sister chains. "Higher-end restaurants have long served menu items flavored with branded spirits but, until now, they had yet to find their way onto fast food menus," said Brad Haley, Carl's Jr. and Hardee's CMO. "While there is no residual alcohol in the sauce, that wonderful bourbon taste remains," he goes on to say.

It's a clever twist, sure to excite a certain demographic of young male fast food consumers who will be intrigued simply by the alcohol tie-in. Of course, a little T&A also plays well with that crowd, and Hardee's/Carl's Jr. never disappoints. To that end, they've produced a new ad starring supermodel Heidi Klum as a Mrs. Robinsonesque cougar seducing a younger man with this "burger with grown-up tastes."

But how does the real thing stack up to the high-production-value fantasy? Well, right out of the box, I was admittedly a little let down.

CKE Restaurants typically use third-pound burgers for their PR shoots (like the two above), but my Six Dollar version ($4.99) looked flatter and far skimpier, despite being eight full ounces. Some toppings were visible, like the bacon strips, lettuce, a veritable flood of sauce, and just a hint of the crispy onion straws.

To get a look at the pepper jack cheese, I had to do some under-bun investigation. And there's a tomato slice under the charbroiled patty, along with a second application of Jim Beam sauce.

Not the prettiest fast food burger I've seen, but this one tasted better than expected. The sauce is, of course, the primary component, but I found the sauce to be far less overwhelming than barbecue sauce usually ends up being on a burger. It had a gentle heat and maybe just a slight astringent aftertaste that lingered a while longer than I was ready for. Not unpleasant...and interesting enough to hang with.

The lettuce and tomato were a little pathetic, and while that could be chalked up to just this burger on this day from this location, I found that the veggies likely don't even need to be here at all. The pepper jack cheese was mildly spicy and the bacon was your basic fast food iteration, but the crispy onion straws proved to be a nice surprise. I am not a huge fan of fried onions on burgers, but these had some real crunch to them, more akin to the French-fried onions you toss over a casserole than limp-ass onion tanglers.

But really, the Jim Beam Thickburger is all about the sauce. Be prepared for a mess, as it'll end up all over everything by the time you're done. Not even halfway through mine, a significant amount of the sauce had already been lost to drippage. Not the end of the world—there was still plenty more on board the burger—but it's a good thing to keep in mind, especially if you're trying to eat and drive.

About the Author: Todd Brock lives the glamorous life of a stay-at-home freelance writer in the suburbs of Atlanta. Besides being paid to eat cheeseburgers for AHT, pizzas for Slice, and desserts for Sweets, he's written and produced over 1,000 hours of television and penned Building Chicken Coops for Dummies. When he grows up, he wants to be either the starting quarterback for the Dallas Cowboys or the drummer for Hootie & the Blowfish. Or both.

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From February 9 to 17, I visited Hong Kong on a trip sponsored by the Hong Kong Tourism Board. Here's a look at something I ate during my trip. Make sure to check out my other Snapshots from Hong Kong.

[Photographs: Robyn Lee]

My main reasons for eating at McDonald's are 1) when I'm at the airport and there's nothing better to eat, and 2) when I'm in a foreign country and there's something new to try. The latter is how my last meal in Hong Kong ended up being at McDonald's.

The occasion for the visit: the limited-time-only (and no longer available), Chinese New Year-themed Prosperity Burger (also sold in Malaysia, China, Indonesia, and Singapore), featuring an elongated beef or chicken patty coated in pepper sauce on a sesame seed bun. The chicken patty gets topped with shredded lettuce while the beef patty gets sprinkled with chopped onions.

FEEL THE JOY!!! FEEL THE ABUNDANCE!!!

How burger is formed, sort of.

First thought: attractiveness level, not so good.

Then I turned it around. Ah, much better. The patty looked like it had been born from the same mother/mold as the McRib.

Overall, the burger wasn't that bad for HKD$17.30 (about $2.25). The meat tasted a bit like pork breakfast sausage even though it was a beef patty. Not bad, just unexpected. The sauce lent an inoffensive mild peppery and sweet flavor to the adequately moist patty. The onion was the weakest part—the portion was so small it was barely perceptible. I wish the burger had had more textural contrast—the soft, fluffy bun with tender patty and smattering of onion bits meant it tasted like uniform soft-on-soft. Maybe I would've been better off with the lettuce-topped chicken version.

Twister Fries (HKD$7.20), another limited-time item, taste pretty much like all other curly fries, with the requisite orange-tinting seasoning. They were crisp and well seasoned all around, as McDonald's fries tend to be.

Thanks to Rachel Balota for sharing the McDonald's joy with me.

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About the author: Robyn Lee is the editor of A Hamburger Today and takes many of the photos for Serious Eats. She'll also doodle cute stuff when necessary. Read more from Robyn at her personal food blog, The Girl Who Ate Everything.

[Photographs: Erin Jackson]

If you've exhausted all 300,000 possible configurations for building your own burger at The Counter, or are just looking for a way to trim fat, calories, and cholesterol, you might want to try the latest addition to the permanent menu: bison.

The certified organic, 100% grass-fed meat is sourced from Blackwing Quality Meats out of the Dakotas. It's the protein of choice on the signature burger for the month for February, and comes topped with smoked gouda, organic mixed greens, Bermuda red onion, roasted red peppers, sprouts, marinated artichoke hearts, and Kalamata olive aioli for $14.95. A top-it-your-way patty starts at $12.95 (for the 1/3 pound size).

I kept things simple, opting for only the standard burger toppings (American cheese, lettuce, tomato, and pickle slices) so the flavor of the bison wouldn't be complicated by aggressive toppings. At first glance, it was a pretty impressive looking burger: nice and fat, with good charring. The patty had a decent amount of moisture and the flavor was fairly good, like a sweeter, slightly gamier version of grass-fed beef—similar enough to a standard burger patty to not totally alienate traditionalists, but still different enough to stand out.

One thing I like about The Counter is unlike most chains, you can actually get a burger that's pink in the center, but this particular patty was squarely rare, with the center wet and cool to the touch. I ate the slightly-more-cooked half while staring at the slimy center of the remaining half, and couldn't bring myself to finish the rest.

Had the bison burger been cooked properly, I'd feel more confident recommending it but honestly, paying $12.95 for a burger (à la carte!) that is that far off the mark gives me pause, and I think some righteous indignation is justified...no...required.

If your main motivation when you go out to eat a burger isn't to treat yourself to something delicious (and ignore the caloric implications), that might be enough of a reason to give it a go, just cross your fingers it'll come out of the kitchen cooked properly. But if you care about flavor above anything else, give it a pass. For $15 (the price with fries) you can get a much better burger somewhere else.

What do you think? Is $12.95 for a burger with no fries or anything on the side a crazy price, or would you happily pay that much for a healthier patty?

About the author: Erin Jackson is a food writer and photographer who is obsessed with discovering the best eats in San Diego. You can find all of her discoveries on her food blog EJeats.com. On Twitter, she's @ErinJax.

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[Photographs: Above, Jack in the Box; others, Erin Jackson]

If you watched the Superbowl on Sunday, you might have noticed ads for the new Hot Mess burger ($4.29) from Jack in the Box. It's made with a seasoned beef patty topped with melted white cheddar, pepper jack cheese sauce, onion rings, and sliced jalapeños on toasted sourdough.

The San Diego-based chain has a history of debuting items during the Superbowl, but this is the first time in a few years that the new burger is legitimately new—not like the All-American Jack, which was really just an Ultimate Cheeseburger with lettuce and tomato (lame). The Superbowl spots are part of a huge online marketing push around the burger, which includes t-shirts, song downloads, and a MySpace page for Meat Riot the fictional band whose hit "Hot Mess" is featured in the commercial's soundtrack. There's also a $1 off coupon if you're tempted to try it.

Even though the burger doesn't visually measure up to the publicity shot, it's still one of the most promising burgers Jack has released in quite some time, even with some execution issues. The jumbo seasoned patty actually has some depth of flavor, the combo of jalapeño slices with the melted cheddar and gooey pepper jack cheese sauce is delicious, and the sourdough bread is a major improvement over the standard-issue bun, both in terms of flavor and how well it stands up to all the melted cheese. Speaking of which, I'd ditch the onion rings. The coating is too scant to take on the gobs of hot cheese, and they quickly turn limp and soggy.

The issue this burger runs into is properly portioning and arranging the ingredients. A little of the cheese goes a long way, and because almost all of the jalapeño slices on my burger were fenced in by an onion ring, every bite was totally different, and only a few achieved the perfect balance between beef, cheese, and pepper. Then again, this is the Hot Mess we're talking about, so a precisely executed burger with jalapeños delicately placed just so with tweezers was never going to happen. You get exactly what you order.

While you're at it, try the Hot Mess wedges ($2.79)—crisp potato wedges topped with all of the same ingredients as the burger. They're tasty in that way that anything with salt, fat, starch, and a touch of spice is always pretty good, even if it's a bit sleazy. Eat them quick, before the cheese sauce congeals. There's also an overly sweet hot cinnamon shake, but I wouldn't recommend it based on the fact that I couldn't get through more than a third of the tiny sample size portion before feeling dizzy and more than a little pukey.

About the author: Erin Jackson is a food writer and photographer who is obsessed with discovering the best eats in San Diego. You can find all of her discoveries on her food blog EJeats.com. On Twitter, she's @ErinJax.

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[This photo: Burger King; all others: Todd Brock]

The Whopper's 55th anniversary celebration continues over at Burger King with yet another variation on the chain's flagship sandwich. (Are we eventually getting 55 of them?) The latest is the Avocado and Swiss Whopper, one that piqued my interest far more than the resurrected Angry Whopper and the unimaginative Wisconsin White Cheddar Whopper from December.

Avocado is somewhat of a new thing for me. Like most kids growing up, I passed on it because it was green...and I never really gave it a fair shake until I was much older. Now I dig its creaminess on lots of things—especially burgers—and I can't imagine sitting down at a Mexican joint without a big starter bowl of guac.

But oddly enough, BK's Avocado and Swiss Whopper ($4.69) goes a different route. Promotional materials tout a "creamy avocado spread" and "zesty avocado aioli." No slices. And the word guacamole is nowhere to be found. Rounding out the toppings on this limited-time Whopper are bacon, lettuce, tomato, and "melted Swiss cheese." Only some of these items were plainly visible on the take-home model I unwrapped.

Right out of the store, the cheese had not melted. Like, at all. And my first bite was dominated by the sensation of coldness from the avocado spread. The bacon was actually quite good—thick-cut and crisp— but it was an odd juxtaposition of temperatures and textures, honestly.

I had hoped for some chunkiness to the guacamole avocado spread, but quickly found it to be very thin, almost hiding in a puddle under the tomatoes. It tasted fine, but was missing that textural interplay of additional ingredients that good guac has.* A check of the official ingredients shows all the key components: Hass avocados, onion, jalapeno, salt, garlic, cilantro... even some tomatillo thrown in. And that's it. Seemed a shame that the BK burgermeisters chose to use the "purée" approach instead of a rough chop-and-mash.

* According to Wikipedia (so it must be right), guacamole is an Aztec word that literally translates to "avocado spread," so technically, BK's nomenclature is spot-on. It just feels like there are some smoke-and-mirror-style shenanigans going on for them to call it that when most of the world pries up that bun and says, "Hey, guacamole!"

Overall, the rest of the AvSwiss was pretty decent once the temps evened out. The cheese got some melt, the spread didn't taste icebox-cold, the bacon maintained its crunch. The ingredient that seemed to get lost in the shuffle was that "zesty avocado aioli." Slathered on the underside of the top bun and gluing the lettuce in place, it was beige with bits of stuff suspended in it. The ingredients list shows over 20 components, with the namesake flavor coming from "avocado powder." Yum. Personally, I found that the soybean-oil-based sauce had little to no flavor at all, avocado powder or otherwise.

What it did provide was extra lubrication, which the AvSwiss Whopper did not need. The thin mock-guac already made for a slippery burger, and the aioli all but ensured that everything would just start sliding around with each bite, leaving a lopsided mess by the end.

That being said, I'd order the Avocado and Swiss Whopper again because the avocado flavor is just different enough from the usual fast food offerings to be marginally appealing. But I wouldn't go out of my way for it, and I'd know what I was getting into ahead of time...and temper my full-blown-chunky-guacamole expectations.

About the Author: Todd Brock lives the glamorous life of a stay-at-home freelance writer in the suburbs of Atlanta. Besides being paid to eat cheeseburgers for AHT, pizzas for Slice, and desserts for Sweets, he's written and produced over 1,000 hours of television and penned Building Chicken Coops for Dummies. When he grows up, he wants to be either the starting quarterback for the Dallas Cowboys or the drummer for Hootie & the Blowfish. Or both.

[Photographs: above, McDonald's; others, Dennis Lee]

The little Grilled Onion Cheddar Burger recently showed up on McDonald's Dollar Menu, and of course, I'm sure you all have been holding your breath to see what people are saying about it. Right? Right. So, who's going to write about it? Why's everyone looking at me? Oh, wait. I volunteered. I'm a dumbass.

This is an incredibly intricate burger, absolutely complicated in its construction, with top notch organic ingredients sourced from the most exotic locations around the world, revolutionary, really. Just kidding. It's only got two toppings: white cheddar and onions. Points for creativity, McDonald's.

You may be confusing this little guy with its big brother, the Cheddar Bacon Angus Burger. But that's the grown-up version, the kind that this one wants to be when it grows up. I received mine more or less as I imagined it. Obviously, it doesn't look anything like its sexy press photo, but it's sort of cute, I guess. I just want to pinch its little cheeks.

Of course, under the hood, it's just a square of mostly unmelted processed cheddar cheese and a splat of grilled onions. The unmelted part of the cheese has that sort of plastic look and feel to it, and its flavor is sort of curious. It's not quite American cheese, but it's not quite cheddar cheese either; it's kind of in the middle, and it's somehow a little disconcerting. The onions, however, are actually pretty good—they're soft and cooked down, and have a nice sweet oniony flavor that comes through every bite. The real winner is the beef. Just kidding on that too. The beef is, as expected, that unappealing gray color, mushy, and just sort of forced to be there, kind of like Charlie Sheen at a rehab facility.

Overall, the Grilled Onion Cheddar Burger tastes like a patty melt without the rye bread. Just like most fast food offerings, it sort of teeters along the edge of okay and not-so-good. Would I ever put it in my mouth again? No. The whole thing seems like an afterthought, a reason to use the hand-me-down onions from its big brother. Yay.

About the author: After a failed attempt at starting a chain of theme restaurants called "Smellen Keller," Dennis Lee traveled the world to discover his true passion. Sadly, midwifery didn't pan out. Now he works in a cubicle, and screws around as much as possible. Follow his shenanigans on Twitter.

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[Photographs: above, Dennys; others, Damon Gambuto]

Denny's unveiled their limited-time Hobbit-themed menu last November...and, I just found out, stopped serving it this past Sunday. Oops. (What gives; the movie's still playing!) Although the menu was clearly a gimmicky movie tie-in that was more sizzle than steak, I visited Denny's to try the menu's Hobbit-inspired burger for a Reality Check. So, AHT'ers, behold: The Ring Burger ($8.49)

From a creativity standpoint, there isn't much in this burger to ignite the senses, even if you are a Denny's devotee. They already have a bunch of constructed burgers on their regular menu, so a multi-topping burger offering is nothing new. That said, the particulars of The Ring Burger are actually sort of interesting. They put their standard patty on a cheddar bun and top it with abandon. It comes standard with lettuce, tomato, onion, pickle, pepper Jack cheese, bacon, sautéed mushrooms, and mayo. It shows up with—you guessed it—onion rings on top.

I was surprised to find that there was a lot redeeming about this burger. To be sure, the standard chain restaurant complaints apply: overcooked and under-seasoned patty. But they managed to pack the meat loosely enough to avoid the hockey puck texture that's so often in evidence in these kinds of joints. The toppings came together nicely as well; the pepper Jack cheese was plenty melty and the mushrooms added a nice earthiness. The rest of the veggies were completely solid. The most interesting addition was the squishy cheddar bun. It had a nice texture that was just a tad more substantive than a traditional commercial bun without losing sponginess. While there wasn't much (if any) juice to speak of from the patty, the mayo replaced the missing fat.

The fries aren't Ring Burger-specific, so you've probably tried them somewhere along the line. They're cut like steak fries with a bit of a krinkle. This technique is really clever—it allows for more surface area to crisp, which balances well with the creamy potato interior.

I also tried the Radagast's Red Velvet Pancake Puppies ($2) because I have an unhealthy attraction to food coloring and pancakes. They're deep-fried pancake balls with little white chocolate chip centers. They're served with a side of syrup and cream cheese icing for dipping. This is straight-up State Fair food, enjoyable insofar as you are excited at the basic excess of the eating enterprise put before you. Apparently I was. I ate them all despite their under-cooked centers.

There may indeed exist one burger to rule them all, but I'm pretty certain that it's not Denny's Ring Burger. That said, this gimmicky burger-as-movie-tie-in is actually not that bad.

About the author: Damon is one of our roving burger reporters and food writers. When he's not eating more than is warranted or healthful (and then writing about it) he can be found writing and producing for television and film. You can contact him at seriouslydamon@gmail.com.

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[This photo: Hardee's/Carl's Jr.; All others: Todd Brock]

My New Year's resolution was "no bad burgers." It didn't last very long.

Hardee's and Carl's Jr. rolled out their new Jalapeño Turkey Burger recently, a 450-calorie offering undoubtedly timed to coincide with the annual I'm-going-to-start-eating-right promise made by millions as the holiday season wound down.

Even the ad takes a decidedly restrained tone. Forgoing the chains' usual boobs-and-burgers/softcore porn approach, the video spot features a muscle-bound hipster with perfect hair and an impossible jawline right from the pages of Men's Health chomping away in slow-mo glory, complete with the standard overdone squelch/crunch sound effects accompanying each bite.

(But make no mistake; this commercial is still aimed straight at dudes, as evidenced by the soundtrack. It's the axe-shredding opening of the 1987 heavy metal opus "The Ultra-Violence." 'Cos nothing says "health-conscious fast food" like a little ditty from the band Death Angel.)

The spot uses a tagline of "Lean But Mean" and goes so far as to imply that the Jalapeño Turkey Burger ($3.49) is not just a real man's sandwich but a serious flamethrower at that.

In reality, my Jalapeno Turkey Burger at least looked awfully damn similar to the promo pic. Lettuce, tomato, red onion all in proper stacking order under a charbroiled turkey patty, with melted pepperjack cheese, jalapeño "coins," and Santa Fe sauce on top, all tucked into a wheat bun.

But the pleasant surprises stopped there. The Jalapeño Turkey Burger is one of the worst burgers I've attempted to eat in recent memory. Turkey burgers get a bad rap in general for being dry and lifeless; this is a textbook example. Call me spoiled after finding a genuinely tasty turkey patty at a burger joint just down the street from my house not long ago, but a peek under the bun of this iteration just made me sad.

The patty was horrific. Pale, white, and pockmarked with industrial-grade texturestamping across the face, but with a weird orange color along the outer edge and actually scorched black in spots. You'd think with all of that color going on, there'd at least be some taste to go with it. But you'd be wrong. My wife has eaten way more turkey burgers—both good and bad—than I; she scrunched up her face on the first bite and described it as "very supermarketish." This thing was godawful.

The fixings were decent, a sadly wasted effort. The jalapeños and pepperjack brought a fair amount of gentle heat, and the Santa Fe sauce (it's soybean-oil based; this is supposed to be a healthy burger) added some desperately-needed creaminess and spice to the proceedings. Good proportion on the LTO, and even the wheat bun was passable. I actually thought to myself at one point, "The toppings are pretty good. I'll bet they'd be good on a burger."

Too bad that's what Hardee's thought they had already given me. You want to go light on your next trip to Hardee's or Carl's Jr.? Order a 1/4-pound Little Thick Cheeseburger or a Double Cheeseburger. Both have fewer calories than the Jalapeño Turkey Burger. Except they both have taste.

About the author: Todd Brock lives the glamorous life of a stay-at-home freelance writer in the suburbs of Atlanta. Besides being paid to eat cheeseburgers for AHT and pizzas for Slice, he's written and produced over 1,000 hours of television and penned Building Chicken Coops for Dummies. When he grows up, he wants to be either the starting quarterback for the Dallas Cowboys or the drummer for Hootie & the Blowfish. Or both.

Love hamburgers? Then you'll Like AHT on Facebook! And go follow us on Twitter while you're at it!

[Photographs: top, Steak 'n Shake; all others, Erin Jackson]

Steak 'n Shake has a new burger you can try at the same time as one (or three) of their new holiday shakes. The Santa Fe Steakburger features two patties composed of Steak 'n Shake's signature blend of sirloin, T-bone and round steaks, plus Monterey Jack cheese, pico de gallo, pickled jalapeños, crispy red tortilla strips, and a healthy gob of guacamole ranch sauce. According to the 500-ish strong diner-style chain's website, it's "inspired by the flavors of the Southwest." Hoping it wouldn't be as horrendous as the hatch chile cheeseburger at Fuddruckers, I gave it a whirl.

Just like the last Steak 'n Shake burger I tried (an egg and bacon-topped Royale steakburger), the Santa Fe steakburger was excellent.

Steak 'n Shake cooks their burgers right out in the open, so you can see how fresh and fatty the beef is. The patties start out as a squat cylinder of meat that get smashed flat as a pancake on the sizzling grill. After cooking, they're immediately set into buns and delivered to your table in seconds. You also get real cutlery, proper plates, unlimited drink refills, and the burger only costs $4.99 with fries.

Steak 'n Shake could easily charge a lot more for their burgers, but for some magical reason, they don't. Not only are they cheap, they're executed extremely well. The beef was juicy, fatty, and thoroughly browned. The bun was soft and squishy and held together right to the end (albiet, barely), and the toppings were well portioned, fresh, and complementary. A thick blanket of completely melted Jack cheese draped over the patties while generously portioned jalapeños and fresh pico de gallo sat on top. The guacamole ranch sauce was smeared on the top bun, with the crispy tortilla strips sticking to it.

The chips were the only questionable element, especially because they seemed to be mostly on one side of the bun. They did provide some unique texture, but overall, I don't think they did anything to improve the burger, besides looking kind of cool. I think I'd skip them next time, so I could concentrate on the interplay between the gooey cheese and tangy guacamole ranch sauce (which had actual chunks of real avocados in it).

Then again, my first Santa Fe steakburger is also going to be my last, because I live in one of the states with no Steak 'n Shakes...but if you're lucky enough to be able to try this burger, you really should, because it's crazy-delicious and shockingly cheap.

About the author: Erin Jackson is a food writer and photographer who is obsessed with discovering the best eats in San Diego. You can find all of her discoveries on her food blog EJeats.com. On Twitter, she's @ErinJax

Love hamburgers? Then you'll Like AHT on Facebook! And go follow us on Twitter while you're at it!

[This photo: Burger King; All others except where noted: Todd Brock]

I sincerely hope that when I turn 55, the celebration includes something more substantially meaningful than Angry Sauce.

To mark the 55th anniversary of the iconic Whopper, Burger King has rolled out a trio of limited-time offers: two adaptations of their flagship sandwich and a sweet-and-savory side. The first of the celebratory burgers is the Angry Whopper. Pictured above in its professionally-primped photo-shoot glory, it features the usual quarter-pound fire-grilled beef patty, topped with smoked bacon, habanero cheese, lettuce, and tomatoes. Taking the place of the Whopper's standard pickles, ketchup, and raw onions are jalapeño slices, Angry Sauce, and spicy fried onion petals respectively.

Sound familiar? It should. The Angry Whopper was introduced in late 2008, the year the Whopper turned 51. What this has to do with the 55th birthday of its less-fiery cousin, I don't know. In fact, the only thing "angry" about it was me—for getting suckered into buying one.

Most of those aforementioned accoutrements were hiding on my real-life Angry Whopper ($4.59). They may as well not been there at all from a taste standpoint, either, because the chain's Angry Sauce dominates every bite of this baby. The weirdly-colored orange goo is a mustard-based condiment, with habaneros, garlic, two kinds of vinegar, and onion thrown in for good measure.

The sauce wasn't capital-H hot; more mildly peeved than truly angry. It was just barely spicy enough to lightly numb my tongue, perhaps so that I wouldn't fully pick up on how nondescript everything else about this burger was. I could hear a slight crunch from the lettuce and onion petals, but tasted only more sauce. Blecch.

The Angry Whopper seems out of sync with the new direction BK is seemingly trying to take itself. Clearly, they're shooting for a more upscale vibe these days, but doesn't the Angry Whopper smack of the creepy-King reign, when the chain reveled in its extreme-dude wackiness? (Just five years ago, for the Whopper's 50th, they shot viral videos of PO'd customers being told the Whopper had been discontinued.) The original TV ad for the Angry Whopper showed a screaming farmer taking a bullwhip to a field of onions and spelled out the name of the sandwich in flames; the new propaganda uses a soft-focus backdrop of twinkly Christmas lights. And the Angry sure doesn't have much to do with this particular anniversary of the Whopper. "Come celebrate the birthday of this 55-year-old sandwich by eating that four-year-old sandwich!"

For my money, a real celebration of the Whopper's 55th would have been retro pricing. (37 cents when it first debuted, by the way.) Or even better...making it actually good. Instead, we get retro packaging, with harlequin-clad bags, sandwich boxes, and drink cups depicting logos from 1957 (Colonial Powdered Wig King—love the pointed shoes) and 1971 (Saturday-Morning Cartoon King, possibly related to Heat Miser). Oh, and for four days, if you bought one Whopper, they'd sell you a second for 55 cents. Whoo. Frickin'. Hoo.

[Photograph: Burger King]

What about the second new burger? The Wisconsin White Cheddar Whopper ($4.59) is a brand new, um...derivative, adding bacon and two slices of white cheddar cheese, and swapping out white onion slices for red. I know, try to contain yourself.

In reality, though, it didn't look bad at all. BK's industrial meat disc remains the bland cornerstone, but my bacon was nice, and the lettuce/tomato/onion was in decent proportion. The cheese exhibited little to no melt, but that's no surprise when you're talking cheddar.

That said, Wisconsin white cheddar—while a fine state (shout out to Lacey!) and a perfectly passable cheese—doesn't add much of anything to the party. It doesn't stand out from a taste perspective, so is this appreciably better than a regular Whopper with cheese? Not in my book. Six of one, a half dozen of the other.

[Photograph: Burger King]

That's exactly the mindset I had about the limited-time side BK is adding to the menu, Seasoned Sweet Potato Curly Fries ($2.49 for a large order). Yes, sweet potato fries are the hot thing, and I love that they're becoming mainstream enough for the fast-food giants to jump in. But I assumed these would be nothing special: a tasty starch cut into cutesy-pie twisty spirals just to be quirky.

I was wrong. They're liberally dusted with what the chain calls "maple seasoning," which provides a noticeable grit and a severe shot of sugar (and perhaps some cinnamon?). I recommend eating them as quickly as humanly possible. All fries go downhill in a hurry as they cool, and sweet potato fries in particular tend to take on an unpleasant gummy texture. These are no exception. But ripping hot and right out of the bag, they're a welcome alternative to regular spud sticks...assuming you're ready for heavy-duty sweetness.

Happy Anniversary, Whopper. I recognize that you helped change the fast-food burger biz, but I wish your big celebration had done more to change my mind about the current state of fast food burgers. Instead of honoring what once made you great, I saw a half-assed effort at camouflaging the same old lameness under fancy- and fun-sounding accessories and some gaudy old-school fashion.

Here's praying they don't say the same about me when I turn 55.

About the author: Todd Brock lives the glamorous life of a stay-at-home freelance writer in the suburbs of Atlanta. Besides being paid to eat cheeseburgers for AHT and pizzas for Slice, he's written and produced over 1,000 hours of television and penned Building Chicken Coops for Dummies. When he grows up, he wants to be either the starting quarterback for the Dallas Cowboys or the drummer for Hootie & the Blowfish. Or both.

Editor's note: Today we've got a guest post from fellow burger blogger Rodney Blackwell of Burger Junkies (and organizer of the Sacramento Burger Battle). Since he lives in the test area for McDonald's new Quarter Pounders, he took on the task of trying one for AHT. Thanks, Rodney!

[Photographs: Rodney Blackwell]

You know those guys on YouTube that take the boring news and add some auto-tune to the words, put some music behind it and make an enjoyable dance remix that's way better than the original? I think that's what McDonald's was trying to do with their three new Quarter Pounder With Cheese varieties they recently announced. I get the premise. Take the classic Quarter Pounder with Cheese and modernize it a bit to capture a new generation of fast food foodies.

The Quarter Pounder Habanero Ranch first caught my eye with McDonald's "Remix" commercial and next with this tweet where AHT's Erin Jackson called me out to try it since I'm located in their test area. The last straw was when McDonald's offered the new burger for just $1. The stars were officially aligned for this to happen.

The Quarter Pounder Habanero Ranch burger has the standard Quarter Pounder beef patty, but instead of the stacks of salty, American cheese that was pretty much the inception to my cheeseburger obsession, they substituted one slice of white cheddar cheese. McDonald's tops that with a couple of slices of hickory smoked bacon, leaf lettuce, tomato, and a habanero ranch sauce.

The first harbinger of hamburger horror was the fact that they literally handed me my meal (with a smile) before the cashier even had a chance to give me the change for the order. I get that it's a fast food restaurant, but burgers should never be ready that fast.

Overall, the burger actually looked pretty similar to their commercial photographs. The lettuce (although slightly wilted), tomato, and bacon poked out an appropriate distance from their "bakery style bun" kaiser roll of a bun. Unfortunately, the beef patty tanned a little too long under the heat lamp and didn't have the plump, juicy look as their stylized photo.

The first bite revealed my earlier hypothesis: Burgers should never be ready that fast. Sitting under the heat lamp completely drained all flavor (even the usual salt kick) from the meat patty and robbed it of virtually all of its juices. It reminded me of the chorus of the "Swimming Pools (Drank)" song from Kendrick Lamar: Burger. Dry. Lettuce. Dry. Bun. Dry. Bacon. Dry.

Other than the obligatory bacon, the only redeeming quality on this sandwich was the habanero ranch sauce. I like spicy, and generally the level of spice that restaurants put out for the "mainstream diner" doesn't nearly have enough kick. While this sauce won't burn your face off, it has a respectable amount of habanero heat delivered within their creamy ranch sauce.

Don't get me wrong. I have very fond memories of the original Quarter Pounder with Cheese. If you timed it just right, and they cooked one fresh, there's something slightly magical about their simple combination of American cheese, chopped onions, ketchup, and mustard. As my burger tastes have elevated over the years, I never figured myself for a burger snob, but in this case, the original didn't need improvement. I've never eaten a Quarter Pounder with Cheese and thought, "Wow, I wish they could add some lettuce and tomato." My dream QPC upgrade would be the classic with couple of crispy slices of bacon and an unhealthy slathering of that habenero ranch sauce.

About the author:Rodney Blackwell is the burger blogger/amateur burger photographer at Burger Junkies and the organizer of the Sacramento Burger Battle. When he's not eating burgers and taking names, you can find him talking T-shirts at T-Shirt Forums, the online community he founded in 2005.

Love hamburgers? Then you'll Like AHT on Facebook! And go follow us on Twitter while you're at it!

[Photograph: J. Kenji Lopez-Alt]

If you're the kind of person who goes to McDonalds because you love the flavor of their 100 percent pure beef patties, well then the two of us might not see eye to eye on a lot of issues, culinarily speaking. For me, the beef has always been the worst part of the McDonald's burger, which is why I've been continuously baffled as they've introduced bigger and beefier burgers over the last decade and a half or so: Quarter Pounders, Big & Tasties, and the current fleet of third-pound pattied monstrosities. The reason the Big Mac is so successful? It's all because of the noble work the tangy sauce, the sweet crunchy lettuce, the pickles, the soft, squishy bun, and the melty cheese do in covering up all traces of bland beef pucks.

So when McDonald's first rolled out its Daily Double ($1.99, introduced in some markets in 2011, in New York in 2012), a new heavy-on-the-fresh-toppings cheeseburger, I was excited at the prospect that there might finally be something on the Burgers-Under-$2 section of the menu worth ordering.

Let's see what we're supposed to get, shall we?

[Photograph: McDonald's]

From the bottom up we got toasted bottom bun, 1.6-ounce burger patty, a slice of American-ish cheese, a second 1.6-ounce patty, a "juicy" tomato, some crunchy shredded iceberg, slivered onions (the fresh kind like you'd get on a Quarter Pounder, not the reconstituted kind you get on a Big Mac), mayo, and top bun.

Really, what you get here condiment-wise is the antithesis of the $1 McDouble, which comes with the exact same two-patty-one-cheese-slice base, onto which is applied ketchup, reconstituted onions, pickles, and depending on the market, mustard. You take those toppings out of the McDonalds standard toppings roster, add what's leftover to a burger, and you've got yourself a Daily Double.

The question is, do those different toppings warrant the 99% price increase? It all depends on how you like your burger, and what degree of pseudo-human interaction you're willing to inflict upon yourself.

First off, the good news: Those slivered onions are far better than their reconstituted counterparts. While the recon onions give you the occasional whiff of that ineffable fast food aroma, the slivered onions get you some real sharpness and pungency, with a crisp crunch. Similarly, shredded iceberg is a good move on a McDonalds burger, its sweet mild crispness going a long way towards giving the sandwich a hint of freshness.

Mayo is my condiment of choice on a burger, so it suits me just fine to replace the ketchup, though truth be told, if I'm at McDonalds, I'd rather get a squirt of Big Mac sauce on there instead. The tomato, as expected, is wan, insipid, grainy, and all other sorts of terrible. But not as terrible as the beef, so it can stay.

Now the bad news: Without pickles, this burger loses its character, its essential McDonaldsness. Those dill chips are essential if you want to have a passably flavorful burger-eating experience at McDonald's. Luckily, pickles are free to add.

[Photograph: J. Kenji Lopez-Alt]

Which got me thinking: What's the cost of all the rest of those ingredients in a Daily Double in McDonald's Dollars? What makes it cost a buck more?

To figure it out, I went back to my McDonald's and placed the following order:

"One McDouble please, but hold the ketchup, pickles, and onions. Instead, can you add mayo, shredded lettuce, a tomato slice, and some slivered onions?"

I'm not sure the cashier or cook were keen to the fact that I'd basically just ordered a custom-built Daily Double, but it arrived a few moments later exactly as ordered: A Daily Double wrapped in a McDouble wrapper. Literally identical.

And the cost of this sandwich? The base: $1. Mayo: 15¢. Lettuce: 30¢. Tomato: 40¢. Slivered onions: free. For a grand total of $1.85. Prices of add-ons to burgers can vary by location, and I believe my McDonald's is pricier than most in the country, so there's a good chance your custom-built Daily Double will be even more inexpensive.

My god, think of all the things I could buy with the 14¢ I just saved myself!

So the fact of the matter is that if you're talking food costs alone, a Daily Double is not worth the extra 99¢, and McDonald's knows it. The question they're hoping you ask yourself is, "Is it worth saving 14¢ for me to not have to stand around, blocking the line, trying to explain a custom order to a cashier who is already annoyed at me?"

I remember when McDonald's started charging for extra Big Mac Sauce and shredded lettuce a few years ago (most likely due to the number of people gaming the system and ordering the $1 Poor Man's Big Mac), reading comments from folks on message boards and Facebook, and being shocked at how incensed they felt. Actually profanities being thrown around because McDonald's started charging for real food that it had once given away absolutely free.

Personally, I have no pity for those folks. You gamed the system, you got caught, but fuck it, in the end you're still getting 400 calories for under a couple bucks, so let's not get too entitled here, shall we?

All this is to say that while the $1.99 Daily Double might not be a deal of 99¢ McDouble proportions, it's still one of the best bets on the McDonald's menu if you feel the way I do about their beef. I'd gladly take the extra 14¢ hit for the convenience of being able to simply order "One Daily Double, add pickles, please." Perhaps next time I'll see if they can hold the patties.

What do you guys think? Would you customize your McDouble in order to save that dime and four pennies? Do you want your 11th burger on the house?

About the author: J. Kenji Lopez-Alt is the Chief Creative Officer of Serious Eats where he likes to explore the science of home cooking in his weekly column The Food Lab. You can follow him at @thefoodlab on Twitter, or at The Food Lab on Facebook.

[Photographs: above, McDonald's; all others, Todd Brock]

If you're the type to believe primetime TV ads, then you might be lured in to your local McDonald's to try the new Cheddar Bacon Onion Sandwich, expecting to be wowed by its threemendous combination of premium toppings. Yes, white cheddar, hickory-smoked bacon, and caramelized grilled onions is a trio that certainly sounds promising. But any high hopes I had were more a direct result of the chain's most recent limited-time offering. Ronald rocked my world with his deep-fried chicken wings; who's to say his new burger wouldn't be as nice a surprise?

Out of the box, my CBO compared pretty favorably to its gussied-up PR shot. I've been burned before by bad fast-food bacon, though, and admit to being somewhat suspicious at the sight of so much crisp pork belly sticking out from underneath.

No strategic-arrangement shenanigans here; these were long strips of bacon that actually stretched beyond the bun on both sides. A quick visual inspection uncovered a few details that weren't as attractive: The white cheddar showed almost no melt, and the grilled onions didn't constitute a "pile" so much as a "pinch."

But there was reason for hope. The braided bun Mickey D's uses on the Angus burgers has a substantial density to it, a far cry from the overly-airy pillows that disintegrate if you look at them wrong. But what really intrigued me was a sauce I didn't realize would be part of the equation. Listed as "Creamy Mustard Sauce," the CBO's page on the corporate website reveals that its first ingredient is nonfat yogurt and that there's some horseradish in there for added bite.

Personally, I found the Dijon-based sauce to be the best thing about the CBO, and I'm not a mustard guy. The combo of toppings was very good; I just wish it had been on a better burger. McDonald's beef—Angus or otherwise—is boring and bland, with no juiciness about it at all. It's a sad state of affairs when the weakest part about a burger...is the burger. But that was precisely the case with my CBO.

The Cheddar Bacon Onion is also available as a chicken sandwich, and I'd like to believe that it's a better overall package, given how I now feel about McDonald's ability to fry pieces of chicken. As for the burger, I'll pass—but I pass on all of the burgers at Mickey D's. I think these toppings could make for a sensational burger, but only if you transplant them onto a juicy, hand-shaped, liberally-seasoned beef patty that hasn't been cooked to a dull, lifeless grey. That might actually be threemendous.

About the author: Todd Brock lives the glamorous life of a stay-at-home freelance writer in the suburbs of Atlanta. Besides being paid to eat cheeseburgers for AHT and pizzas for Slice, he's written and produced over 1,000 hours of television and penned Building Chicken Coops for Dummies. When he grows up, he wants to be either the starting quarterback for the Dallas Cowboys or the drummer for Hootie & the Blowfish. Or both.