I try to live a healthy life. Vegetables make regular appearances in my meals. My protein sources are generally lean. I only eat deep-fried candy bars at fairs.
But those aspirations go right out the window when I’m presented with a bag of Doritos.
The chemical-sprayed corn chips are that one item I cannot have in my house, lest I devour the entire bag in a matter of hours. Which explains why I was drawn to the Doritos Locos Taco at Taco Bell. Like a moth to the flame that will eventually incinerate it, my survival instinct failed me and I recently found myself at the garish fast food establishment.
I ordered a #6 (I have a shameful love of Chalupas) with an additional taco in the Doritos Locos style. (Why is there an “s” on the Loco? Isn’t a single taco “loco?” Perhaps I’m overthinking the matter.) A terrifying array of processed food sat on the dated graphic table. A buffet of chemicals and “meat.” I located the Dorito taco and dove in.
I chewed my first bite, uncertain of what flavor I was tasting. Taco Bell doesn’t taste like actual meat or spice: it’s as if aliens tried to translate those delicious flavors but didn’t quite understand the human palate. The second bite consisted mainly of the tortilla chip shell, lettuce, and some cheese. It was then that the Dorito flavor finally came through. It was actually underwhelming. I suppose that’s what I get for, as Boston Globe columnist Joanna Weiss put it, eating “out of spite.” (Although I maintain I ate it out of gluttony.)
After the Doritos Locos Taco, I opened up the regular beef taco that came with my meal for comparison. The Dorito shell was definitely fresher and crisper than its soggy plain cousin, but there wasn’t a big difference in overall taste between the two tacos.
My dining companion ate the second Chalupa I ordered. Which means I ate a grand total of 710 calories and technically didn’t even eat an entire meal. I could have had about five servings of Doritos for that. And the chips would have provided a more satisfying experience.