Price: $0.89
Serving: 1 package, 6 oz.
Calories: 220
Fat: 12%, 8g
Sodium: 13%, 300mg
Protein: 9g
Carbs: 10%, 29g
Fiber: 2%, 1g

Swanson says: Swanson, the brand you trust for great tasting, snack sized, pot pies and complete meals. Prepared with the highest quality ingredients, Swanson’s Macaroni and Cheese requires no mixing and no mess! Just cook and serve for great taste made easy.

Abi says: Supposedly (according to the blurb above) there is no mixing necessary for this meal! However, the instructions for microwaving Swanson Macaroni and Cheese read otherwise:

1. Place dish on microwave-safe plate
2. Microwave on HIGH 2 minutes
3. Separate with fork; stir thoroughly
4. Microwave on HIGH 1 to 1 1/2 minutes
5. Stir before serving

I don’t know about you, but I think of mixing and stirring as being pretty freaking similar. The other lie on the package? “Great Taste Made Easy”. If ‘great taste’ means ‘the sort of food given to people in nursing homes because they’re about to die anyways’, then yes, Swanson’s Macaroni and Cheese is bursting with great taste.

Price: $1.29
Serving: 1 container, 2.25 oz. plus water
Calories: 300
Fat: 22%, 14g
Sodium: 47%, 1,120mg
Protein: 7g
Carbs: 12%, 37g
Fiber: 8%, 2g
Weight Watchers Points: 7 Points

Maruchan says: America’s finest Ramen Noodle Soups

Abi says: When something bad is going to happen, I try to psyche myself out mentally by imagining that it is going to be significantly more enjoyable than it ends up being. While this strategy is somewhat useful when it comes to drilling teeth, pulling off band-aids, jogging, and doing shots, it is not a good idea in the realm of macaroni and cheese. Mac and Cheese is NOT something you should have to psyche yourself out about. In fact, the word ‘psyche’ should not be used in conjuntion with the words ‘macaroni’ and ‘cheese’ in a negative manner.

I considered ending this review by imploring you to gaze upon the picture of the cheddar noodle product and then avoid it at all costs. I soon realized that this would be an enormous disservice to my low-vision and blind readers. Dear low-vision and blind readers, the cup of noodles in the image is a mess of deep-fried nastiness soaking in a watery broth of cheddar cheese powder. Please do your best to make sure that this item ceases to exist. I can think of 10 things I’d rather have on store shelves. One of those things is Jerk-flavored potato chips.

Price: $2.89 at Whole Foods
Serving: 1 container, 10 oz.
Calories: 400
Fat: 17%, 26g
Sodium: 24%, 590mg
Protein: 17g
Carbs: 15%, 44g
Fiber: 6%, 2g

The Moosewood Collective says: We start with three different cheeses to create our version of this classic comfort food. We blend sharp Cheddar and Parmesan cheeses with creamy smooth Neufchatel cheese and then season it with just a hint of mustard to give the finished medley its wonderful full-bodied flavor. Smothered over the best pasta we could find, the result is a meal sure the please everyone in your family.

Abi Jones: Upon taking a bite of Moosewood’s macaroni and cheese I was overcome with the worry that something had gone disastrously wrong with my tastebuds. I may not have the palate of Robert Parker, but I know that foods should taste like. . . something. Of this meal I would expect to taste cheese. Instead, I imagined that pasta-water had somehow been made into a solid form. I would call this meal inocuous, but inocuous things don’t make people want to vomit. How does a company with 11 cookbooks manage to produce a macaroni and cheese that makes me long for Lean Cuisine? I can only hope that my outrage is evident enough to prevent the American public from ever buying another box of this vegetarian, organic excuse for food.

Veda generally eats vegetarian meals at lunch. Today, she makes a foray into the world of Boston Market, one populated with breading and gravy.

Price: $1.19
Serving: 1 box, 14 oz.
Calories: 540
Fat: 41%, 27g
Sodium: 65%, 1579mg
Protein: 21g
Carbs: 18%, 53g
Fiber: 27%, 7g

Boston Market says: We use tender all white meat chicken dipped in a seasoned batter, breaded, then cooked to a golden brown. It’s served up with country style gravy and our Homestyle Mashed Potatoes along with a side of tasty peas and carrots.

Veda says: Where do I even begin with this one? I suppose I must first try to justify my shameful choice. If you knew me, you’d know that most of my dietary mistakes are preceded by the phrase, “But it was on sale”. So, I’ll begin there. It was on sale for $1.19. The little yellow sign made me do it, I swear. Even then, with such an appealing price staring me in the face, it took several minutes of pacing in the frozen food isle. Dare I sink to such a depth? Well, clearly the answer was yes.

So many things were wrong with this meal, but I’ll start with what could’ve been the redeeming quality and failed. The veggies. Peas and carrots. Granted that they are starchy, but they ARE vegetables and still have some healthful qualities. This was UNTIL Boston Market smothered them in so much salt and butter that I initially thought it was mashed potatoes with one or two carrots stuck in it. I kid you not. Once microwaved, these would be innocent veggies, floated in a sea of buttery shame. I had to drain them before I ate them.

Now onto what’s wrong with the concept of frozen, microwaved, “fried” chicken. I don’t think they lied. This chicken was oily enough to have been fried at some point. It’s just that somewhere along the way, the breading became a soggy, salty mess. How that soggy breading didn’t manage to share it’s moisture with the chicken, I cannot imagine. Thank goodness for the gravy (which I usually hate), because without it, I may have been forced to drink the carrot/pea butter, just to choke the chicken down.

Finally, we come to the mashed potatoes. Lovely, fluffy, favorite side dish of mine… Just not this time. The potatoes (what little there were) were heavy and weighed down with - you guessed it - salt and butter. Now, I am a fan of both, but how much can you consume? Not much. I didn’t even make it half way through this meal before I had to go shell out $5.75 for a palate-clearing salad. I can only conclude that you get what you pay for and apparently $1.19 only buys salt and butter. The next time a little yellow sign, attached to nearly inedible edibles, calls your name… Run, run fast.