Hello and welcome back to another episode of “Don’t Do as Sabrina Don’t Does,” or “Sabrina Eats Weird Ass Food To Your Delight.” There’s probably something about loving bombs in there as well.
In honor of the coming season, I would like to introduce you to and then warn you as far away as you can run from this:
It seems like a no-brainer, right? Triscuits work well with savory spices like sage, and cranberry is a Thanksgiving staple due to the lovely astringent overlaying the more bland turkey. How can you possibly screw that up? But sweet dear God, someone opened a portal to Hell in creating these abominations of every snack food to ever walk the earth.
Open the box and your bile will rise. How a cracker can smell like rancid meat drudged through cranberry sauce, I have no idea, but this one pulls it off.
Okay, now to taste it…
Nope! You can’t make me! I have so much more to live for! You’ll never catch me, sucker! AAHHHH!!!!!
All right, all right, this is for you, and science, and the Queen. I assume she’s reading this from under a pile of corgis to keep her warm through the winter.
First Bite: Turduckfucking hell! This tastes like if a dog ate a can of jellied cranberries, tin and all, then vomited the mess up, and you — armed only with an ancient box of moldy Triscuits — scooped the cranberry vomit onto the cracker and ate it (I assume in some post-apocalyptic setting where that and a box of sugar bombs are all you have to survive on.)
The cranberry isn’t that familiar sweet astringent we all pretend to love lest Ocean Spray break our kneecaps, it’s rancid. If you took a big bite of cranberry sauce, then had your bile rise from Uncle Racist saying, “Trump has some good ideas,” the kind that burns in the back of your sinuses and won’t leave for an hour, there ya go. And someone loved that taste so much they slapped it on a cracker to sell for mass consumption.
Somewhere under there is a nice sage but who cares, it doesn’t matter because your tongue’s already run off to become a Jehovah’s Witness so it never has to deal with this holiday shit ever again. Only masochists would eat an entire cracker – I say as I finish the one, because we still have to talk about the after taste.
It could be worse. Believe me, it could. But if you try one of these crackers, you’re going to want to keep a pot of gravy on hand to wash it away. The sage and Triscuit meld almost nicely in the back of your throatm but then BAM! Cranberry vomit swerves into the lane without signaling, running the sage off the road. It probably cackles while high-fiving a plate of yams covered in marshmallows.
I can only assume that Triscuit used no focus groups to test this flavor, because there is no way a human being could taste this and not run from the room screaming. Or, perhaps they’re part of some secret cabal set out to destroy Thanksgiving one disgusting limited edition cracker at a time. Or they brought in a bunch of dogs in adorable reindeer hats who, in between licking their asses, ate a few crackers, then returned to the preferred taste of feces.
For all that is good and holy in these trying times, do not eat the Cranberry & Sage Triscuit. Do not open the box, do not even go near it on the shelves for fear it will lash cranberry tendrils that break under your skin and suck your juices to feed its old God soul.
Or, you could hand a box to Uncle Racist and smile politely while he chokes on the bile infused crackers. It’s up to you.