Friday, March 17, 2006
I’m a malt lover. You know that already. I know some folks don’t like malt, and that’s okay. I’ve got lots of other posts you can look at, so I won’t be offended if you skip to something else.
When I was a kid I loved the Easter malted milk eggs because of the pretty shells. What was especially cool about them is that you could lick them and then use the coloring and smear it on your lips. Back then it was cool to have chalky-looking white or pink lipstick ... maybe if you were lithe had a nice tan and long blonde hair. If you were more macho you’d paint stripes on your cheeks as warpaint (pretty pink and blue warpaint!).
In the comments here, Tripp and Samantha both expressed their affection for these Mighty Malts from Necco. So I sought them out. I found them at Dollar Tree ... which might not be a good place to buy candy, but I found everything else I’ve gotten there to be fresh and palatable.
What freaks me out about them is their texture. Not in my mouth, but just looking at them. They’re matte, but not in a chalky way like the cute little Cadbury Mini Eggs are. The pink ones look kind of like erasers. Actually, the whole pile of them looks like something you’d pry out of a sticky toddler’s hand. Anyway, I had some Robin’s Eggs laying around (I got them from a bulk bag from CandyFavorites when I visited last month).
The Mighty Malts (right) are much smaller than the Robin’s Eggs. The coating, instead of being a hard, crisp candy shell and then layer of “chocolate” is a “candy” coating which can only be described as a combination of trans fatty acids and sugar. Fake white chocolate. Colored to look like PlayDoh.
The outside is at once waxy and sweet. I can carefully shave off the coating with my teeth to create a new naked morsel of malt with practice. (I probably don’t look very appealing with the egg trapped between my lower lip and teeth though as I do this.)
The malt inside is pretty good - crunchy and substantial, it has a good malt hit and a bit of saltiness to it. But that’s not enough for me to recommend these except as a last resort. I paid a buck for four of these little boxes, so I don’t feel cheated or anything. I doubt I’m going to eat the other two boxes, though. I found the malt to be good enough that I’m going to keep my eye out for another Easter version called Goose Eggs, which boasts real milk chocolate (and of course they’re larger, which would imply a greater malt ratio).
Wednesday, March 15, 2006
One of the best things about the Cadbury Creme eggs is the commercial campaign they used to have. It was a white bunny that would cluck like a chicken and leave behind the eggs. The voice over, I believe, was done by Mason Adams who also did the Smuckers commercials. Of course, I loved bunnies (I even had two as a child) so it gave me a special fondness for the idea of the Cadbury Creme Eggs.
For those of you who are new to Planet Earth, a Cadbury Creme Egg is a milk chocolate shell in the shape of an egg filled with a fondant creme of two different colors - the outer layer is white and the inner glob is yellow (so they say).
The reality of Cadbury Creme Eggs is radically different. First, they never look like the commercials or ads. I’ve pulled apart a lot of Cadbury Creme Eggs in my life, and I’ve never found a glossy yellow yolk in the center. What I find is a dark patch in the white fondant. So all nostalgia and effective advertising aside, I have never been pleased by eating one. They’re too sweet. I’ve tried eating just the chocolate, but what’s the point in that? It’s just really sticky, the fondant doesn’t have enough flavor to it, or fat to give it a buttery consistency that I might enjoy. I’m not saying that these aren’t spectacular candies, but I really detest them.
While the Creme Egg has no non-Easter counterpart, the Caramel Egg does. This is a Caramello bar on steroids, a caramel mega-blister, a huge bubble of salty, flowing caramel inside a sweet, chocolate shell. Just as I discussed the aspects of ratio with the Reese’s Eggs, I don’t think that the Caramello bar can withstand so much tinkering with ratios. However, I liked this egg quite a bit more than the Creme Egg ... what I probably should have done is buy some of the mini-eggs, which might have a more satisfying ratio to them. (I’ll probably pick them up at the after-Easter sales.)
I think that these are great candies ... for people other than me. I’m not going to dish them the way I did with the Bunny Basket Eggs ... Cadbury Creme Eggs are a valid confectionery expression, just not one I’m capable of throwing my support towards. However, I would be very disappointed if they went away. I like seeing them, and I like the fact that they have so many fervent fans.
For more positive poetic waxings on the subject of Cadbury Creme Eggs, visit X-Entertainment or see the Writers and Artists Snacking at Work page devoted to the ovoids.
UPDATE: Cadbury has introduced the Cadbury Orange Creme Egg for Easter 2007.
UPDATED UPDATE: This review from 2006 documents the weight of the egg at 1.38 ounces. The 2007 eggs are 1.2 ounces.
Monday, February 20, 2006
I know there are times when I’m thinking about the future of candy and I say to myself, “why can’t red vines be more like string cheese?”
Well, Twizzlers has answered the call of curiosity: What would happen if you made red licorice in the string cheese format?
First, it’d be pretty. That’s part of why I bought this, it was so cute. It looks like telephone cable! But it doesn’t taste like it. Second, it’d be interactive. The candy is basically red licorice laces twisted together and lightly fused into short ropes. There are three colors of the laces: red, orange and yellow.
This flavor is called Paradise Punch. I was hoping that each of the strands would be a different flavor, but it didn’t taste that way. They were all that typical red fruit punch flavor. What was rather overwhelming was the chemical taste, like plastic or some sort of volatile compound. The lingering chemical smell and taste just left a bad taste in my mouth. They were soft and chewy, just not tasty.
I tried taking it out of the package (in case it was the wrapper) and leaving it out for a while, but that didn’t seem to make the flavor dissipate. Which makes me wonder if that’s how it’s supposed to taste. I actually do love Twizzlers and maybe if I see the regular red flavor (or a Twizted red and black) I’ll give it another try. For now, I’ll have to pass on the chemical cocktail.
Tuesday, February 14, 2006
There are a lot of new Hershey’s Kisses out. Some of them are natural progressions of the classic milk chocolate morsel. Dark Chocolate and their sassy purple foils are one of those and of course Hugs with their almond centers. Some of the new Hershey’s Kisses sound like pre-existing products in the Hershey’s repertoire. When I heard about the Caramel Kisses, I thought, “Aren’t those just Rolos?”
Rolos have been around in the United States since 1971 and I think I remember their introduction. I also remember some of the other advertising campaigns, including the Rolo song (You can roll a Rolo to your pal/it’s chocolate covered caramel ... you can roll a Rolo to your friend/it’s chocolate covered caramel from end to end). They’ve never held much interest for me, I enjoy eating them with other things, like pretzels or apples, but not just as a treat by themselves.
The Caramel Kisses are soft, flowing caramel in a molded chocolate shell shaped like a Kiss. Rolo is a soft but chewy caramel in a molded chocolate shell shaped like a tall disk.
The chocolate on the Caramel Kiss is sweet and likable, with a fair amount of grain and that inimitable Hershey’s tang to it . The caramel is flowing and sweet with only a slight toasted sugar note to it. The vanilla is rather chemical in nature. They’re a good size and have a good proportion to the elements.
The Rolo has a very sweet chocolate outside, with a fair amount of grain and a sort of “graham” taste to it. The caramel inside is pleasingly soft but not messy and flowing. It’s chewy without pulling on the teeth. It doesn’t have much flavor to it, not much of a toasted sugar note, but it’s smooth and milky. They smell of sugar and fake vanilla.
Frankly, neither of these candies float my boat. I know that in a Head-to-Head the battle is supposed to be fierce and the winner takes a huge prize, but I’m just not fond of either of these candies enough to purchase them again. Instead it’s one of those board games that you start and it gets so complicated or boring that you just agree to wander away.
Wednesday, February 8, 2006
Oh, some dear readers (and neighbor) have led me astray ... they’ve raved about the Black Sesame Pocky and I believed them! (See comments in this post.)
Now, I’m a huge fan of halvah and those sesame snaps (like a sesame nut brittle). Sprinkle a little on my sushi rolls too, while you’re at it. But there’s something about toasted sesame, specifically that sesame oil that I’ve just never liked. It’s actually banned from my house (well, my husband sneaks in deli sesame noodles sometimes). It smells like something wrong, something burnt, something rancid or perhaps something toxic. A combination of burnt hair and plastics.
This is just like that: a crunchy and mild cracker stick covered with milky sweet white coating and mixed with every vile black seed known to create an acrid tasting treat. (Okay, I overstated that. I actually ate one of the four packets in the interest of giving a full-featured review, so it can’t be all that bad.)
But there are other things that cause me to hesitate to recommend this, and they involve reading the label. Here are the ingredients: wheat flour, sugar, palm oil, powdered (black sesame, black rice, black bean, black pine seed, black Chinese quince), lactose, whole milk powder, shortening (hydrogenated fish oil), nonfat dry milk, malt extract, salt, yeast, butter, soya lecithin, baking soda (sodium bicarbonate), artificial flavor.
Maybe there are some omega3 fatty acids in there.
Besides my innate displeasure for toasted sesame, the Pocky were nice. This variety comes in four smaller packets instead of the two large packets like the Men’s and traditional chocolate (so that you may give them away more easily without being offended by the smell).
I am happy to report that this bad review is just because of my personal tastes - it has nothing to do with this being a good product. Feel free to defend the Black Sesame Pocky. If you like toasted sesame, you’ll probably be ga-ga for this, too. I know some folks think I’m nuts for liking the stuff I do, and I think it’s great that the planet affords such a variety of products. And I will be passing along the rest of this package to my dear neighbor how does happen to like the stuff. I’m also happy to report that I picked up several other varieties at the same time and they’re all delightful and you can look forward to nice statements about them.
Friday, January 27, 2006
Razzles are an oddity. They seem to be the jack-of-all trades of the candy world. Billed, “First it’s Candy ... Then It’s Gum!” I have to admit it doesn’t do either particularly well.
The package for these Razzles is particularly attractive, and that’s often enough to get me to buy something. That’s the wonder of candy, even if you’re disappointed, you’re rarely out more than a dollar.
The package, of course, makes the Razzles look better than they actually are. They’re not the sassy looking, colorful pieces on the package. Theyr’e rather grainy looking and kind of crumbly. Chewing them gives a burst of sweetness followed by some tart. I chose three orange ones for my first Razzles in probably 20 years. They were disappointingly bland, but did turn into gum more faithfully than I remember when I was a kid. The gum has a nice lingering essence, but little sugar to jazz it up. This is not bubble gum either, in case you were going to make some attempts.
Orange: bland and lacking in any zesty punch. Lemon: Solid, good mix of essence and tart. Grape: not as chemical as some others, had an odd sort of ginseng/root flavor to it. Blueberry: pretty good, kind of grapey and kind of like raspberry. Raspberry: nice and flowery tasting with some good tart bite to it and a little hint of cotton candy but it doesn’t wear well, the flavor is gone before the sugar is.
The color when it becomes gum is far more vibrant - the lemon became a lusturous saffron yellow and the dirty looking grape became, um, inky and the blueberry was positively turquoise.
These had a pretty powerful smell of chemicals. And they are SOUR. This package had more defects in it - three of the candies were noticeably darker than the others and just didn’t seem “right” so I didn’t eat them.
Lime: puckeringly sour with a good hint of lime essence. The sour stays with the gum well after the rest of the flavor is gone. Blue Raspberry pretty much like the regular raspberry but intensely sour with a rather salty taste to it as well (I know there’s no sodium in there). Orange: straight up sour with some nice fruity flavors. Lemon: I figured this one was going to be really sour after those lime ones and I wasn’t disappointed. Much better than the regular Razzle, if you could just buy these, I think they’d do very well. I didn’t get any Cherry ones in this batch for some reason, so I can’t comment on that flavor.
I don’t think Razzles have won me over. They’re a nice novelty and the gum part isn’t bad, but the candy part is pretty awful. It’s not smooth and the flavors are uneven. The appearance is also kind of off-putting. I wonder if they’ve ever considered candy coating them like a Spree or Chicklet.
UPDATE: for even more confusing “candy/gum” see CandyAddict’s recent review of Japanese Wata Gum
Tuesday, January 17, 2006
Sometimes I wish that candies were made in different flavors. Like, I used to wish that Starbursts came in cinnamon, mint and licorice flavors.
It turns out that product already exists. BlackJack is a licorice (actually anise) flavored chew that’s made in the shape of little square pieces that are sold in a roll.
What was dissapointing about them is that they’re slightly tart. I’d expected a smooth, sweet and spicy chew filled with licorice goodness. Instead it’s slightly lemony (citric acid is in the ingredients), with a tart bite and not much of a licorice flavor to it. It smells a lot like anise, but doesn’t really deliver. I like the combination of licorice and lemon, which is done really well in the Lemon Lakritsi from Finland.
Bassett’s, now owned by UK candy giant Cadbury, is well known for their Allsorts, and I was hoping this was a pocket version of them. They may just take some getting used to, but I’ve had this pack for quite a while and after eating about three of them, I have no desire to continue trying to like them. I’m sure they have their fans, but I don’t think I’ll ever be among them.
POSTED BY Cybele AT 9:42 am
Friday, January 6, 2006
This candy bar irritated me from the moment I picked it up. First was the rich mustard color of the wrapper. A compelling “look at me!” color, but not one that makes me think of peanuts in a fond way. (In fact, it makes me think of a peanut butter and mustard sandwich, which probably has some fans out there, but I can’t count myself as one of them.) The second thing that rubbed me that wrong way when I read the package was the description, “pretzels, caramel, peanuts, peanut butter & peanut butter candy.” What the heck is “peanut butter candy” and how is that different than the whole thing being considered a “peanut butter candy?”
What I thought the peanut butter candy part meant was something like the inside of a Butterfinger bar (or a 5th Avenue if we’re sticking to Hershey’s products). And that actually sounds kind of interesting, have a layer of peanut crisp in there somewhere. What I didn’t realize is that this bar has no chocolate (poor reading comprehension on my part) ... and that’s what the peanut butter candy replaces. It’s basically a peanut butter-white chocolate. Like the insides of Reese’s Pieces! Of course this means partially hydrogenated oils. Bah! I don’t want partially hydrogenated oils in my candy!
Anyway, you get two bars in each package (which has a nice cardboard tray to keep them from getting crushed). The outside is a little odd looking as you can see the grains of peanut butter, but I got over that. It smells peanutty and is smooth, crunchy and has a nice hit of salt in it. I got no sense of the caramel at all. There was no chewiness to this bar at all, in the caramel sense. I suspect that the fats from the various peanut incarnations invaded the caramel and de-chewified it. If you’re a big peanut fan and are not satisfied with the bazillion other Reese’s branded bars, you can pick this up and argue with me about the glory that is a Peanut Butter Take 5.
Instead of mucking around with adding more peanuts to the Take 5 line, they need to start making my version with extra dark chocolate and pecans!
Interesting things: Take 5 bars are called Max 5 in Canada. The peanut butter version of the bar contains 2 more grams of saturated fat over the regular chocolate one, but twice the fiber. This is not a limited edition bar. Other Take 5 versions: Take 5 Chocolate (9/10) & White Chocolate Take 5 (6/10).
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