Named after the single most barbaric individual to ever live, by chicken standards, The Colonel's Delight is a veritable medley of assorted parts of dead hens.

Did you ever wonder why the Colonel hated chickens so much? Personally, I have a theory that one day he came home and found his wife in bed with the farm's prize rooster. The shame drove him to genocidal madness, though chicken kind has never forgotten this small victory over humanity.

Their rallying cry - "Cuck-a-doodle-doo" still taunts the Colonel to this very day.

Pictured here is The Colonel's Delight - bawk~!

This pasta is an olympic event in itself. Extremely heavy sauce combined with a pound of rotini and breaded topping means you will likely not feel up to a second pasta for the night, unless you're a professional. Since this is a suboptimal use of your neverending pasta bowl, try to order it as your last dish and take it home with you. It's good to have a project.

Pictured here is Tri-athlon, which I'm pretty sure doesn't need a hyphen.

Michael ordered this and named it himself, then kept kicking my feet under the table in what I can only assume was a flirtatious manner as I ate it. Ugh.

Pictured here is Bi-athlon, and even typing that out annoys me.

Chicken pomodoro, the second of the three new sauces, is remarkably similar to a dish my father specialized in during the lean times of my youth. Chicken, being a cheaper meat than beef, was a substitute in many meals, though we did not have the knowledge or technology to transform the leg quarters into meatballs. So we simply shredded the meat as best we could and mixed it in with a jar of Prego, which might be exactly what this is.

Pictured here is Layoffs At The Mine - don't blame the foreman, he did all he could.

This pasta features one of the three new sauces this year, Asiago Garlic Alfredo, which features a handful of full cloves of garlic. Predictably, consuming any of these (or all of them, as I foolishly did) soon coats one's entire body with a thin, oilly film that renders one completely immune to mosquitos and friends alike for days afterward.

Pictured here is Wario's Revenge - Wah!

Like any sequel, this pasta has a lot of expectations to meet. It has to be familiar, yet different enough to justify its existence. Allow me to put your fears to rest: the chicken meatball is a fine topping worthy of your attention. The lower calorie count (210 versus 270 for the cow-based meatball) also helps!

Pictured here is Sequel - we're back, baby!

My God -- it's full of carbs!

Pictured here is Finale: the end.

If you bring up Olive Garden's name in the right company, you'll get a smug eyeroll and a comment about "real" Italian food. I've never traveled further out of my tiny apartment than it takes to get to Olive Garden, and I don't ever plan to venture out that far again - but I think I know a thing or two about exotic cuisine. And I can say there's nothing more Italian than noodles that are vaguely the color of the Italian flag.

Pictured here is Viva Italia - "OG Rep!" (italian for "bon appetit")

I was impressed by this surprisingly adult offering. The lack of breading on the chicken, and the dearth of a thick cheese goo "sauce" make for a dish that you could mistake for a presentation by a 3-star Italian restaurant (if you had just spent the past 49 days eating nothing but Olive Garden).

Pictured here is Grown Up Meal For Big Boys, and I ate it all by myself!

I took a bite of the first pasta, and immediately coughed it out, my finely-tuned pasta senses detecting a slight variation in the noodle. This wasn't spaghetti at all. The waitress attempted to assuage me.

"Sir, it's bucatini. It's pretty much exactly spaghetti but it has subtle ridges, and it's hollow."
"Hollow? Cheaping out on me, Olive Garden? After all the thousands of dollars of your food I've eaten for free, this is how you repay me?"
"Sir, if you'd just please stop shouting, I'd be more than happy to -"
"Plus, these noodles are so small! Hey! More like Buac-TINY!"

I can't wait to put that one in the blog, I thought to myself.

Pictured here is buca-tiny, and the name's just as witty now as it was six hours ago!

I was not prepared for this. A sauce with actual vegetables in it? With spices that my deadened palate can actually pick up? Garlic?!

I am not at all exaggerating when I say that this is my favorite sauce I have tried in the past 7 weeks, and I weep that I had to eat 30 bowls of 5 cheese marinara before I got to it.

Pictured here is Primo-vera - also, try it on your breadsticks! Waow!

"Oh, God! Something's horribly wrong with my shrimp! Waiter!"
"It's grilled, sir. Some people find it a lighter option than the breading. It should take this bowl of giant rigatoni and thick dairy-based sauce down from 1900 calories to a slim 1800."
"Wow! Look at me, I'm friggin' anorexic over here! Order me a second one, just in case."

Pictured here is Grande-Sized Number Six Combo With Diet Coke - skip the salad, you've earned it!