Wednesday, April 5, 2006
The Saga of the Valomilk: Episode Three of Five
The problem with Valomilks is that they have a tendency to pop their tops or leak. So even when you get one as fresh as possible, close to the source, there’s still a chance that they’ve got a little oozing spot. It doesn’t really affect the flavor, just the messiness factor. It’s hard to keep from getting sticky if the cup is already leaking when you bite into it. When I got to my sister’s we each had a package. Of the six cups, three were already oozing, though they had healed themselves. (It’s like they’re filled with a tasty Fix-a-Flat caulk!)
On my long drive back to Pittsburgh from my sister’s in Mechanicsburg, I formulated a plan for getting as many of the Valomilks back to Los Angeles intact, as well as trying as many different ways to fly with them as an experiment. First, I had to figure out what the weakness of the Valomilk was so that I could best combat any disintegration during my continuing journey. My best guess was that flying caused the cups to rupture because of the change in air pressure. How this precisely works is beyond me.
As a structural material, chocolate is probably not the best choice. Sure, in large bars it’s pretty strong but the load bearing members on the side of the candy cup is hardly enough to hold back the considerable pressure of the super-tall cup. Further, the paper of the candy cup provides only the flimsiest of shear wall support, thought the fluting does give greater structural integrity than one might expect.
The weak point of the candy cup is where the sides of the chocolate join its chocolate top.
Any small fissure in the shell will result in the leaking of the vanilla center. It seems rather odd that the viscous filling would want to escape, and further that it would do it at the top of the candy cup and not at the bottom. I have several theories about this:
The first is that the chocolate top creates pressure on the vanilla filling pushing it out wherever it will go, obviously finding the weak spot at the top of the sides the easiest. In most cases the leak seals itself as the vanilla milk meets the air and solidifies (also gluing the paper cup to the candy). This likely releases some pressure and does not recur.
The second theory is that there is an electro-magnetic charge associated with the vanilla filling. This theory is best illustrated by looking at a cross section of the planet Earth. Though the Valomilk has no solid iron core rotating to create the magnetic poles as we know it, I have surmised that there is a static charge associated with the filling in the cups and that further currents that develop once the vacuum of the cup is achieved with the addition of the clingy chocolate topper. So there are these ebbing and flowing currents, flinging off electrons willy-nilly, creating this negative charge. Then you look at the chocolate cup, which is made of a micro-crystalline matrix of cocoa butter which gives chocolate its yielding solidity. The solid parts are positively charged, but the semi-solids may vary in charge. The hull integrity is apparently at odds with the electromagnetic charge of the plasmatic filling. The polarity of the hull and the variable charge of the static flowing center enhances the micro-fractures in the shell, time being a major factor here.
Or maybe banging them around cracks them.
Whatever the cause, the Valomilk is delicate and prone to leaking from a variety of causes. The Valomilk is known to do poorly when frozen and at high altitudes. This presented some challenges when it came to transporting this box of candies back to Los Angeles.
So I decided to sacrifice some of my flowing marshmallow babies in an effort to determine the best way to travel with Valomilks.
First, the experiment: Is freezing actually bad for Valomilks? Technically, no. It’s not the freezing that seems to do the damage, it’s the thawing. I put a reasonably pristine single cup in the freezer overnight at my brother’s and lo and behold, the next morning it was just fine. No leakage, no splitting of the cup. However, upon thawing (just putting it out at room temperature for several hours) it lost hull integrity and started seeping at one of the seams. The good news is that the taste and texture of the candy is unchanged.
I conducted this bit of candy cup cruelty because one of the ideas was to put the Valomilks in my suitcase that would be checked. Now, I’m not certain if the temperature in a USAirways jet hold gets below freezing, but on a cross-continental flight it’s certainly in there for a while. The other issue with checked luggage is I have no clue what they’re going to do with it. It could get dropped, smashed and of course the hold may not be pressurized as well as the passenger cabins. (I know they pressurize the cargo hold, but I’m not sure if it’s done to the same levels as the passenger compartments.)
The other plan for protecting the candy cups was enclosing them in an air-tight, container. I was already traveling with a plastic Tupperware-type container that held my candy for review (the on deck candies that I’d photographed). I could certainly put at least six of them in there, and plan to carry them in my computer bag that would be stowed in the overhead compartment. But I wanted more protection than simply a plastic box.
The first thing that came to mind was a thermos. But how was I going to find a thermos with a neck big enough to put a candy bar into it? A soup thermos seemed to be the best solution, so off to Target we went searching for a small thermos to hold as many Valomilks as possible. I found a very nice one with a stainless steel compartment and a double seal. It was also pretty compact which meant that only three Valomilk packages would be flying in these tony accommodations.
Now, I have to admit that I had some trepidation about trying to take my hermetically sealed goodies on a plane because of the security concerns. I’ve had to explain what’s in my luggage before, but I wasn’t sure how I would explain why I was carrying a dozen candy bars in my carry-on and further, why three of them were in a stainless steel cylinder.
Of course all of my worries and anxiety was for nothing. No one at the Pittsburgh Airport cared much about my thermos ... they just wanted me to take off my shoes.
Tomorrow’s episode: Arrival in Los Angeles
Meticulously photographed and documented reviews of candy from around the world. And the occasional other sweet adventures. Open your mouth, expand your mind.