Taco Bell Has a New Cool Ranch Doritos Taco, and It's One of the Weirdest Things I've Eaten
Taco Bell's newest thing is the Spicy Chicken Cool Ranch Doritos Locos Taco, and at this point we've strayed so far from the world of actual food that we're in some Jim Henson-like fantasy land. Just saying the full name of the taco in the drive-through felt like I was asking for the delivery of something that came from the Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy. Can we abbreviate the name? I'm thinking SCCRDLT.
The taco comes with: "all-white-meat shredded chicken, new Fiery sauce, crisp lettuce, tomatoes, cheddar cheese and topped with cool reduced-fat sour cream, in a shell made from Cool Ranch® Doritos® Chips."
The first thing that happened to the new SCCRDL taco is chicken, sour cream and Fiery sauce crashed through the floor of the Cool Ranch shell, as if they were trying to escape. If you've ever gotten a Doritos Locos Taco, you know they come slipped nicely into a colorfully designed cardboard sleeves. It's colorful and bright! Be not afraid, human. The sleeves held in the heavy pile until I unsheathed the taco. Over on the LA Weekly, their taco exploded. Back to the lab, Taco Bell. Back to the lab.
Taco Bell "I'm sorry, Dave. This is your taco meal."
Side observation: Why does every Taco Bell to-go plastic sack feel dense in the center like a full diaper?
One piece of good news was that Fiery sauce. Whatever it was, it was actually spicy. Enough so that I had to quickly down a glass of water. And there was a lot of sauce, which was probably the reason the chicken jail-broke through the bottom of the Doritos shell.
We've left the realm of food though: the flavor of the SCCRDLT as a whole -- with the cheddar cheese, the marinated chicken, the "Fiery sauce," and that sharp Cool Ranch chemical dusted on the shell -- produces this bizarre-ass experience. No food tastes like this, anywhere. It's like I was abducted by aliens, and, to keep me fed, their hive mind produced the approximation of what food is like on Earth. Eating the taco, I felt this weird sense of suspicion-- like a group of beings were watching, recording responses.
The taco costs $1.89, which is very disturbing if you think about it for longer than the time it takes to eat the taco. Also, I'll say that there's no need for low-fat sour cream. If I'm driving through Taco Bell, for dinner, I'll take the sour cream that wasn't made when lightning struck and Dr. Frankenstein threw the switch.
Like always, I ate the whole thing.