It’s hard to move past the soggy nature of this, especially since the lack of a loud Doritos crunch is disturbing. Try adjusting your settings to think of a loaded Dorito as more of a mozzarella stick than a taco. Or the nachos you tried to eat from your seat during a rain delay at the ballpark.
Upon breaking open a loaded Dorito, utterly impossibly-orange cheese oozes out. It doesn't seem like cheese that is made on a dairy farm. Positive points for oozing though -- oozing is always encouraged.
The overall taste is a cross between movie theater popcorn and reheated Taco Bell, which could be a positive if you're eating one of these at 3am. The breading is nice because it tastes a bit homey, like your mom’s chicken parm on Sundays. On the downside, you can barely pick up on the redeeming qualities of regular Doritos -- the aggressive garlic powder and zippy cayenne.