Hello eaters,

My name is Nick Gazin and I am VICE's art editor, so here are some reviews I wrote about frozen, microwavable macaroni and cheese.

The idea of frozen mac and cheese is a ridiculous notion to me since it isn't a difficult food to prepare. All you have to do is boil water, put in the pasta, throw in some cheese and milk—or that cheese powder stuff in the box—stir, and then consume. Voila.

For some, this is too much work and they just want to open a box, cut a one inch slit in the plastic wrapping that covers the frozen cheese/noodle brick, put said brick in the microwave, then hit a button before scalding their mouth on molten cheese, or, in some cases, a mystery substance manufacturers call "cheese sauce."

As usual, Amy's products were the best. Amy's is not paying me to say this. They just make the least gross, most food-like frozen food. I'm not even a vegetarian, but their food is higher quality and less chemical-y. Anyway, here are my reviews of a food product that should never have been invented in the first place.

Since starting this column, people have suggested many times that I eat Amy's Mac and Cheese. So I ate it. I hope you're all glad I ate the thing you told me to eat.

The idea of microwaving a thing that's already stupidly easy to make didn't make sense to me, but after microwaving this product for seven minutes, it became more of a baked mac and cheese. It was good. It was macaroni and cheese.

GRADE: A+

The food was exactly like what it looks like on the box. Eating it was like attending was a hot, cheesy broccoli party, and I was the guest of honor. And during the middle of the party, I was presented with an Amy's Broccoli & Cheddar Bake and then got a kiss from my crush. I win at food. GRADE: A+

I ate three forkfuls and threw it out. The cheese tasted like orange-colored water. It looked like mac and cheese, but this dish was a wolf in sheep's clothing. GRADE: F

Most microwavable frozen food gets microwaved for at least two-to-four minutes, but this beast asks consumers to nuke the product for a total of 11 minutes, with a brief intermission to stir the food around in its little black plastic serving casket. When I opened the 'wave, the mac and cheese trough was bubbling and burping hot cheese magma. Although I was afraid, I stirred on, and gave it a few more minutes to cook.

Upon opening the microwaving a second time and listening to the food gurgle with the heat, I found myself thinking of the movie The Fly. How much do the plastic fibers of the cheap dish and the cheap food intermingle? Am I eating plastic?

This mac and cheese was better than the Smart Ones garbage, but it was still awful. Get Amy's or Annie's mac. Grade: C-

The macaroni's had a pleasant density, not too soft or hard, but the flavor and consistency of the cheesy was suspect. I ate all of this, but I was very hungry and feeling weird from swallowing small amounts of bleach while bleaching my mustache earlier in the night (don't ask).

If you like mac and cheese, there's no reason to not just boil some on the stove and make it yourself, even if you use that powdered cheese. I like the mac and cheese with the rabbit logo, and would choose that over frozen mac almost any day. Grade: B-

That's it for this week. Check back next week to see what I think about the food I'm eating, and follow me on Instagram.