Snacks Across the Pond

15th March 2009

Bounty Without Mutiny – The Best Kind of Bounty

Filed under: Biscuits/Cookies, From the UK, Savoury, Sweet, Sweets/Candy — Tags: , — Burrage @ 7.26 am

I feel that my entries are staring to take on a vaguely familiar tone, for which I feel I should apologize, but then again why should I? It’s a free country! Damn you all to hell, and so forth.

First, as is increasingly the custom, I am sorry the lag between arrival of goodies and their subsequent review is so gigantically enormous, and second, I must say yes sir! What an impressive bounty of confectionery! I’m both grateful and impressed, and although I fear I will suffer massive weight gain seeing this review through to the end, I will stick to my task because that’s the kind of guy I am – weird.

Onwards!

1. Pork Crackles, Mr Porky

Ages ago, I read a joke in either The Times or Viz that went something like, “try to chat up girls who eat pork crackle, because it shows they’re willing to stick something salty, bristly, and unhygienic in their mouths”. Ha ha! I didn’t really get it, but never mind because any endorsement of pork crackle, no matter how obtuse is OK by me because these things are really tasty. Salty though, that’s for sure. Holy shit!

2. Drumstick, Swizzels Matlow, New Mills, High Peak, Derbyshire

Not chicken, ice cream nor musical instrument, but a chewy sweet lolly (as the wrapper says). I don’t know why they’re called a Drumsick because they look like no kind of drumstick I know. Nor do they taste like any kind of drumstick I know, but that’s OK because they are nice, a sort of sweetie strawberry and cream kind of flavour. Sweet. And chewy; definitely chewy. I don’t know the right name for the consistency but it is firm and almost plastic-like, like a Redskin or Fantale. But on a stick.

3. Love Hearts, Swizzels Matlow, New Mills, High Peak, Derbyshire

These are brilliant – I honestly have not seen these in Australian shops but for some reason they are quite familiar – small disks imprinted with a heart shape and saucy message – for example, we have Cute Kid, You’re Gorgeous, Dream Boy, Gee Whiz, and I Love You And Will Stalk You Till The Day One Of Us Is Dead (reduced font). Slightly fizzy, like sherbet, but with a milder, fruity flavour.

4. Orange Fizzy, Swizzels Matlow, New Mills, High Peak, Derbyshire

These look a bit like a glass marble – smooth, transparent exterior, like a standard boiled sweet, but a twist of something else in the centre – something sinister lurks within, mayhap. I’m still sucking it as I type, so will revisit this once I’ve hit the middle.

UPDATE: Nope, nothing. A slight change in taste, but not the fizz explosion I was expecting – a blessed relief actually, as I’m feeling a bit delicate today. Perhaps a dud? I’ll try another.

UPDATE II: Here we go! A gentle fizz. Nice. I like these.

5. Jammie Dodgers, Burton’s Foods Limited

These were actually the first to be devoured when I opened the box, because we had no biscuits in the house and I felt like a biscuit. Very fortuitous. Shortbready biscuit with jam in the middle. Quite nice, good sort of no-nonsense biscuit one might have with a cup of tea.

6. Fig Rolls, Jacob’s

Likewise an excellent accompaniment to a cup of tea, Jacob’s Fir Roll is a pillow-shaped, softer biscuit than the Jammie Dodger with a figgy centre instead of jam. I quite liked these. The packet also displays some congenial input from the proprietor, which (to me) demonstrates a certain about of pride in the product. Well done, Mr or Mrs Jacobs! Fore example, it reads “a good source of fibre”. This is good – I am a great advocate of foods that contain some level of goodness that can at least partially absolve your guilt as you consume them. (I often regale strangers in pubs with my theory that brewers should manufacture a beer rich in vitamin C, for this reason.) “How do Jacob’s get the Figs into the Fig Rolls?” it adds. With a machine I should imagine, but for some reason the packet does not provide an answer.

7. Mr Chews, Swizzels Matlow, New Mills, High Peak, Derbyshire

A colourful wrapped reveals a colourful Drumstick-like sweet but not on a stick. Similar in taste and consistency to the Drumstick, but subtly different, I can’t put my finger on it. Wait – is that a hint of marzipan? No of course it isn’t, how stupid would that be. Mr Chews also have a “Mr Men” character on the front which made me wonder how they avoided copyright infringement notices from the estate or Roger Hargreaves. I can only surmise they bought the rights for the Mr Chews character off a tobacco company, perhaps.

8. Generic Boiled Sweet, Swizzels Matlow, New Mills, High Peak, Derbyshire

Good, no-nonsense fare from the Swizzels Matlow people. Basically a boiled sweet. Well, it is a boiled sweet, no basically about it; like a Barley Sugar. No name though. I suggest the “Bastard”.

9. Climpies, Swizzels Matlow, New Mills, High Peak, Derbyshire

“Climpies”? What sort of a name is that? What sort of a name is the Bastard then, you might well ask, and that is a damn good question. I won’t try to answer – I know when I’m beaten. The Climpie is a tiny, round softish boiled sweet, with a fruity flavour. It comes in a pack of four, and are quite addictive. I like these too.

10. Fizzers, Swizzels Matlow, New Mills, High Peak, Derbyshire

Fizzers are similar to Love Hearts in that they are small, disk-like sweets with a slightly fizzy feel on the tongue, like sherbet thought milder. No encoded messages though, not that I can see anyway.

11. Fruity Pops, Swizzels Matlow, New Mills, High Peak, Derbyshire

The Fruit Pop is a fruit flavoured boiled sweet on a stick with a slightly tangy flavour. It looks like a Chupa Chup though with a brittle, harder consistency. Nice taste though – I think this would be amongst my favourites.

12. Parma Violets, Swizzels Matlow, New Mills, High Peak, Derbyshire

Similar in appearance to the Fizzers, although violet in colour, and with a distinctly non-fizzy taste. According to some information I found on the web they have “violet” taste. I can’t really confirm or deny this. Definitely a milder taste than the Fizzers, but I think I would go for the Fizzers or Love Hearts over these.

In conclusion, I once again express my thanks for this latest box of goodies, and would offer my picks of the bunch as Pork Crackles, Orange Fizzy, Fig Rolls, Climpies, and the humble Fruity Pop. They are a credit to your fine nation, and not least to the fine people at Swizzels Matlow – well done, sirs and madams! Anyway I shall endeavor to ensure that the next batch of stuff from Australia meets this high standard, but until it arrives, good day and God bless.

5th February 2009

New Zealand Kiwi Eggs

Filed under: From New Zealand, Sweet, Sweets/Candy — Tags: , , — Philip @ 2.34 pm

THIS PRODUCT MAY CONTAIN TRACES OF NUTS

How right the warning is. Despite this snack coming from New Zealand I actually found John’s fingerprints all over it, traces of nuts indeed. In a sterling effort to bring strange foodstuffs to my attention his recent visit to the land of Kiwis results in a package of NZ sweets delivered to my country. The first one to catch my eye is the NZ Kiwi Eggs.

I thought it might have been something of a risk John was taking when smuggling the kiwi eggs through customs, even concealed in a box of sweets, assuming there to be strict control on the export of bird eggs. But these come foil wrapped. There must be more to these than meets the eye and perhaps the chocolate coloured painting on the front of the wrapper is not just a poor reproduction of a kiwi’s egg but actually representative of a sugary treat. Nuts, and I’ve already started cooking the bacon to go with the eggs.

The foil wrapper does not defeat me! I rip the top off easily enough, as designed, noting that the top also forms a resealable bag, which should let me savour these snacks over a period of days. Of course, I’ll eat them all in one sitting but having the option to save some in a sealed bag gives a good excuse to get the snack in the first place. It’s more difficult to lie about not eating them all in one go if you know they’ll go stale otherwise.

Dammit, the outer foil wrapping gives way to an internal bag. I’ve never going to get at these sweets. Oh, wait, I just need to open a second bag. They smell good already, too. These Kiwi Eggs, or Chocolate Covered Hokey Pokey, give me a first impression of Maltesers, or indeed USA’s Whoppers. Little chunks of honeycomb surrounded by milk chocolate.

Oh, but no! The chocolate is strangely sweet again, quite unlike British chocolate, yet it tastes darker than milk chocolate generally does. It’s quite nice, though. The centre, whilst honeycomb, is nothing like Maltesers or Whoppers, it is a mini-Crunchie! The centre is rock-hard and awfully sweet, refusing to melt in the mouth and demanding to be crunched in to and chewed. If only I had kept a Violet Crumble from earlier I could have compared the NZ honeycomb to its Australian variant. As it is, I can only declare that Kiwi Eggs are bite-sized chunks of Crunchie goodness. nom nom nom

22nd September 2008

Caramello Koala

Filed under: From Australia, Sweet, Sweets/Candy — Tags: , — Philip @ 9.34 pm

This bag of sweets contains twelve ‘treat size’ koala bear-shaped hollow chocolate snacks, filled with caramel. The sweets are made by Cadbury and so the chocolate is Dairy Milk, which is not my favourite chocolate, as I find it rather more flaky and I prefer a creamy chocolate. The promise of hidden caramel is enticing, though.

Each chocolate snack is separately packaged within the main bag, with the Caramello Koala appearing on the individual wrappers. I’m not entirely sure that koala bears are a reddy-brown colour, understanding them to be more of a grey hue from what I’ve seen on nature documentaries, but a grey mascot is probably not the best colour for a chocolate product.

A Caramello Koala

Examining the package a little I find the standard product information and disclaimers as normal, including the warning that the snack ‘may contain traces of nuts’. I wonder what a koala’s nuts taste like, although it’s reassuring to know that Cadbury has tried to remove them as thoroughly as possible before sale.

Pulling the individual treat’s packaging apart reveals chocolate moulded in to the shape of the Caramello Koala, which probably appeals to The Kids. I chomp in to the chocolate. It tastes like standard Diary Milk, except the caramel inside intrudes upon the flavour like the ten o’clock news intrudes on your favourite film, but in a good way. The caramel is gooey and sweet, a wonderful complement to the chocolate.

By itself the chocolate would be nothing special, but add the caramel and you get a smooth and tasty chocolate treat. This is not the genius of the snack, though. No, what makes this a snack to truly enjoy at a higher level than any other snack I’ve tasted so far in the name of science is the sadistic quality encouraged.

Grab one of the Caramello Koala snacks and tear the top off the packaging. This exposes the head of the cuddly Caramello Koala but keeps its arms restricted to its sides, unable to move or escape from its plastic enclosure. Now you can bite slowly in to the top of the koala’s vulnerable chocolate skull, hearing its ineffective screams of agony as you suck out its caramel brains. The Caramello Koala lasts for quite a long time with its life essence slowly being sucked out, and it is even more tasty because of it.

To maximise your evil potential, once the caramel is all sucked out you can discard the hollow husk of a bear and start on the next one. Maybe you could rip off the top of all the tiny koala bears and let them watch their siblings get their caramel brains sucked out one by one, viewing their own impending fate. Mind you, if you don’t like sweaty chocolate maybe you shouldn’t do this.

I highly recommend the Caramello Koala chocolate snack, both for offering an outlet for torturous tendencies in a safe environment as well as being actually quite tasty.

25th August 2008

Capricorn Australian Soft & Delicious Raspberry Liquorice

Filed under: From Australia, Sweet, Sweets/Candy — Tags: , — Philip @ 4.03 pm

Please welcome to Snacks Across the Pond guest reviewer Melmoth, of Killed in a Smiling Accident.

Playing Watson to Philip’s Holmes, I had been asked to deal with the liquorice menace that had infiltrated SAtP. Philip told me that he wasn’t really a fan of liquorice and that it would perhaps be better reviewed by someone who could keep the stuff in his mouth long enough to taste it; it was because of this that he decided to find a liquorice connoisseur to pass the reviewing duty on to. Unfortunately he couldn’t find one, but he did fine me, and I said I’d eat anything that was free, so I guess that was close enough to a connoisseur to qualify.

It’s a good job he looked for someone with a discerning palette too, because as I excitedly turned the packet over and over in my hands, the promotional blurb caught my eye:

Generations have enjoyed the root of the liquorice plant in its natural form for over 3,000 years. With this in mind and combining our original low fat recipe, this soft eating liquorice has been created to ensure that even connoisseurs of liquorice will be pleased with the quality.

Wow, I didn’t even know there truly were liquorice connoisseurs until now. Apparently there are, and they get displeased with poor quality liquorice often enough that it’s worth putting a bold disclaiming statement on the back of your product. One imagines secret sects of liquorice eaters, charged with guarding the ancient secrets of good liquorice passed down through the generations since the time of Jesus, who will unleash their hidden order of warriors upon anyone who dares to produce an inferior liquorice product. Somewhere there are smoky, dimly lit rooms secreted away in the back of gentlemen’s clubs, where the ability to snort a liquorice bootlace up your nose, pull the snorted end out of our mouth and floss back and forth with it, gains you entry to these private chambers where heavily-whiskered portly gentlemen eat liquorice allsorts off of the bodies of virgins.

REAL, liquorice lovers will truly appreciate this exceptionally superior product.

Standard defensive disclaimer against those fake liquorice lovers from the orient, sent to infiltrate liquorice lover society and sow seeds of discontent. The capitalisation is their own, by the way.

On to the (potentially slightly over-hyped) liquorice itself, then. A quick grab of the paper bag and tear at the top… and tear at the top… and TEAR at the TOP. Good lord, this has to be the toughest paper known to man, either that or I have just discovered that red liquorice is my kryptonite and I have become desperately weakened. There were a few more frustrated and slightly angry attempts, including one where I sneaked up on the the bag so as to catch it unawares, and another time where I wrestled with it on the floor and tore at it with my teeth. Success! The teeth worked and I was in. Upon closer inspection it appears that the ‘paper’ bag is some devilish foil bag with a faux-paper surface tacked on to the outside, probably to cater to all those liquorice connoisseurs who might be turned off by more modern packaging.

Never mind, however, because the smell that greets me once I’m in to the bag is truly scrumptious! There’s definitely a hint of raspberry, and there’s the liquorice too. Sweet, slightly tangy, and very appealing. Time to get stuck in to one of these little suckers. I say little, but each sweet is over an inch long and perhaps half a centimetre or more in diameter (if you’ll pardon the mixed measurements), and as such they’re quite the mouthful if attempted in one go.

First chomp and I know I’m going to enjoy them. The texture is interesting, softer than the wine gums that we get here in the UK, but still quite chewy, enough to get stuck in one’s teeth a bit. It’s a good sort of gooey. The flavour is certainly interesting and had me wracking my puny brain for several days after first tasting because I new I’d experienced it before, some dim and distant memory from my childhood, one of those annoying memories that tugs at the corner of your mind but never comes into focus. To describe the taste accurately is tricky, there’s definitely raspberry there, not true raspberry but that jelly raspberry flavouring one expects when a sweet says ‘raspberry’ on it, pleasant nevertheless. There’s a hint of liquorice in there, it takes a bit of chewing and tasting to get it, but it’s definitely there, but to be honest I think even a non-liquorice lover would be able to enjoy these without too much trouble. I’m sure the secret sect of liquorice lovers has dispatched their elite agents to assassinate me even as I write this heresy.

They’re exceedingly addictive, and I easily managed four or five before I knew what was happening. They are also quite sickly once you’ve had four or five. I think the bag, 275g in size, lasted the best part of a week, with my chomping one or two a day when they took my fancy; they’re the sort of sweet that works well when you just want something to nibble on and leave yourself satisfied and not needing those heavier fattier snacks. It does take some restraint to only have a couple though, and there was at least one other occasion where I had enough to turn my dreams slightly raspberry that night.

Overall I enjoyed the connoisseurs’ liquorice, it’s not something I would normally think to buy for myself, but if I ever see anything approximating this antipodean treat here in the UK I’ll be sure to pick up a pack.

I did eventually remember where I’d tasted that flavour before, it was from a time when I was curiously addicted to candy cigarettes. I’m not sure if they have these across the Pond or down in Oz, they certainly seem to be banned in the US; the standard sugar version has the flavour I was thinking of, but the chocolate ones are also a lot of fun. Perhaps another snack to review at another time.

Anyway, it seems that the liquorice connoisseurs have broken down my door and have reached the bedroom where I barricaded myself in with this laptop. I shall send this review on to Philip before I meet my doom. Remember me fellow snack eaters, my reviewing was short but sweet, with a low fat liquorice extract flavouring.

30th July 2008

Nestlé Chokito

Filed under: From Australia, Sweet, Sweets/Candy — Tags: , , , , , — Philip @ 10.01 pm

On the back of the packet of Chokito is a message from Nestlé, stating that ‘Nestlé believes that proper nutrition and physical activity are important in maintaining a good health.’ That’s all well and dandy, but note that they make no statement about the sweetie bar itself promoting these values. It could be like an car company printing ‘we believe in renewable fuel sources and sustainable climatic conditions’ on brochures for SUVs. Still, I am not eating a chocolatey snack for proper nutrition. This is SCIENCE.

Chokito is a ‘choc coated caramel fudge with crunchy rice crisps’, which seems like an awful lot to cram in to a single bar. So much, I suppose, that Nestlé had to abbreviate ‘chocolate’ in that description. The alternative is that it’s not real chocolate coating, which is a bit worrying. Maybe that’s why the ‘hip’ name has a ‘k’ instead of a ‘c’ as well. The wrapper also wants us to believe we are getting a ‘big feed, big taste’, which is impressive for a 60 g bar.

The bar is foil wrapped, such is the trend for freshness these days. I’ll break it open and take my first look. Hey, this could be the Australian version of the Lion bar over here in the UK. It’s nobbly, and the description of the snack fits. I’ve perked up a bit now. Biting in to the snack is quite pleasing, and it reveals the layered approach to its construction. There is a central core of caramel fudge, on top of which is a coating of crispy rice mixed with chocolate, fake or otherwise. The whole bar is not completely mixed together but neatly segregated, differentiating it from the Lion bar. This separation allows for the choco-rice exterior to be bitten away from the fudge core so that the different sections can be enjoyed individually as well as a more traditional full bite encompassing all the flavour and texture.

The fudge core tastes very much like a Finger of Fudge that may or may not still be available in the UK, I really ought to do more research, and the semi-circular rice and chocolate coating is familiar enough to be enjoyable. The chocolate, or otherwise, coating is a little too sweet for my tastes, but overall this is a pretty good snack. The smooth and chewy fudge core complements its crispy surroundings without one overwhelming the other.

I may have mocked the ‘big feed, big taste’ slogan, but one bar feels like enough for now. I’m not convinced by the ‘big taste’ part though, as it’s pretty much sweet chocolate and fudginess, not that that is a bad thing for a chocolate bar. Burrage sent me two bars in the package and I’ll most likely scoff the second one myself, so it looks like Chokito gets the Snacks Across the Pond seal of approval. Maybe Nestlé can add that to the packaging as well.

9th June 2008

Australian Kit Kats

Filed under: Biscuits/Cookies, From Australia, Sweet — Tags: , — Philip @ 6.22 pm

A little while back, after Burrage had scoffed down a Kit Kat or two from the UK, I asked if there was any difference between UK and Australian Kit Kats. Burrage dutifully sent me some of the Australian variety to try out and compare for myself.

To avoid any potential bias against the inferior Australian product, I’ll endeavour to create a blind taste test for myself. Unfortunately, teaching my cat the scientific method has proven to be too difficult in the past, so I am performing the experiment on my own. This has its own complications. I do not have a third-party to trust to offer me the Kit Kat snack without telling me its origin, leading me to create my own method.

I take an Australian Kit Kat and a UK Kit Kat and unwrap them. To prevent accidental bias I throw the wrappers away, put both Kit Kats in a big bag, and twist the bag around several times. Now I take several deeps breaths until I am a little light-headed and can’t quite remember why I was holding a bag, let alone which Kit Kat comes from which country. This is such genius it has to work, there is no potential for any bias here.

Of course, half-way through the second tasty Kit Kat, its crunchy wafers each wrapped in chocolate, and the whole bundle then covered with even more chocolate, split in to several fingers to multiply the delicious snack by four, I realise that if I cannot tell which Kit Kat comes from which country I cannot feasibly compare the two directly. All I can say is one is better than the other, or not. I probably shouldn’t have thrown the wrappers away, and instead placed the snacks on the face-down wrappers and mixed them up a bit.

That’s something to learn for the next time, mostly because I only had the one UK Kit Kat and I can’t be bothered to go and get another one. Luckily, Burrage sent me two Kit Kats, as well as a strawberry Kit Kat! Yum! I’ll just have to make up any differences I perceive and hope I get lucky.

The long preamble should probably highlight that the UK and Australian Kit Kats are identical as far as I can tell, from the colour and shape of the packet to the four fingers inside. The branding on the chocolate-coated wafer fingers also suggests I should go back and edit all of my references to Kit Kats to remove the hyphen, although you won’t notice the change.

Australian Kit Kats are also constructed in a similar fashion to the UK variety, with multiple layers of wafer sandwiched together by chocolate, then the wafer fingers coated with even more chocolate. As for the taste, I don’t think there’s much in it. I think the Australian Kit Kat has sweeter chocolate, or maybe the chocolate has a different texture; maybe both. It’s certainly at least as tasty as a UK Kit Kat, and I certainly wouldn’t feel homesick for these should I ever move to Australia.

There’s something peculiar on the packaging, called the Nutritional Compass, which is trademarked. The Nestlé website does it more credit than I would give it on the Kit Kat packaging, as the compass doesn’t appear to point to any nutritional information at all, just some blurb about believing in balance. That is, it doesn’t point at nutritional information if you have split the packet along the length of its spine and laid it flat on a desk.

The Kit Kat expanded wrapper, showing the Nutritional Compass(TM)

With the packet whole one point of the compass does indeed point towards the ingredients and nutrition information.

The Kit Kat expanded wrapper, showing a more sensible Nutritional Compass(TM)

There’s not much more to say about the packaging, apart from the little man encouraging proper disposal of the Kit Kat wrapper is a Kit Kat ‘K’, which is a nice touch.

I mentioned above that Burrage sent me a strawberry flavoured Kit Kat too, which is something I haven’t seen over here in the UK! It has ‘NEW’ emblazoned on the pink packaging, which suggests it is not something Australia has had for long, as well as reassuring me that it’s not here yet as I probably would have spotted something so pink sitting on the shelf.

The packaging shows the normal Kit Kat single wafer being broken in two, but with a pink filling that is more suggestive of Turkish Delight than a strawberry wafer. I’m not sure if that’s a good thing or not. And before I tuck in to some strawberry chocolate, there is a Nutritional Compass(TM) on the back of this packaging too, except this time there really is no arrow pointing towards the nutritional information below it!

The Strawberry Kit Kat, showing the Nutritional Compass(TM) lacking a south

I would be surprised if someone managed to delete the arrow when they just needed to flick the switch from ‘red’ to ‘pink’, although it would be fun to think that the exploded packaging on the CAD screen led someone else to think that the arrow was pointing in to thin air, much as I did, and that’s why it got deleted. Heads will roll!

Opening the packet brings a satisfying smell of fake-strawberry flavour to my nostrils. There is not much of a hint of pink yet, just the normal brown chocolate staring back at me, tempting me to bite in to it. Which I shall do!

Well, what do you know, it’s just like a normal Kit Kat but with a hint of strawberry mixed in with the chocolatey goodness, and a stronger aftertaste of strawberry. This is good, but not a particularly exciting difference overall. The wafers are indeed coloured pink, but not terribly noticeable for it, and I would be more inclined to choose this Kit Kat over the regular version were the chocolate itself pink. I suppose the pink packaging is enough of a difference for the Nestlé boffins. I would be happy only to have normal Kit Kats, although this pink strawberry one would make a change every now and again.

In conclusion, Kit Kats are good on at least two continents. Yum!

11th February 2008

Violet Crumble

Filed under: From Australia, Sweet, Sweets/Candy — Philip @ 8.11 am

A new package has arrived from Australia! Inside are some interesting looking snacks, and the one that I am trying out first is called Violet Crumble. I have heard that it is a bit like the Crunchie bar that is available here in the UK. The name doesn’t grab me, though. The colour ‘violet’ evokes in me an idea of some scented oil, which doesn’t sound particularly tasty when mixed with chocolate. In fact, I wonder if the colour is linked to the snack at all, but checking the ingredients doesn’t give any clue as to colouring agents. This suggests either that there are no colouring agents in the snack or that Australia has less strict laws about listing ingredients in foods. I may find out soon enough. But maybe not.

The packaging has a slogan on it that is deterring me a little from trying it. ‘It’s the way it shatters that matters’ is catchy enough from an rhyming angle, but I’m not endeared towards eating something that is likely, or almost guaranteed, to ’shatter’. I am concerned that I’ll be picking shards out of my cheeks with tweezers after the first bite. But I’m doing this for SCIENCE, so I’ll open the package up and give it a taste.

Erk. This ‘delicious shattering choc coated honeycomb’ is perhaps more volatile than it first makes out. On opening the package and pulling out the chocolate bar I am presented with only a fraction of the bar. It has been pre-shattered, either in transit or part of its shattering half-life. I’d better start eating it before it spontaneously shatters some more. It smells awfully sweet, and the honeycomb isn’t quite as golden as a Crunchie. The good news is that the ‘violet’ description seems to be misplaced, as neither the chocolate nor the honeycomb are the wrong colour. Maybe that means the marketing men also lied through their teeth about its shattering nature too.

Num num num. Eating a Voilet Crumble is quite a pleasant experience. The chocolate is a bit different to what I am used to, but it’s nice enough. The honeycomb is sweet and crumbly, not shattering at all. It almost promises to melt in the mouth, but actually requires light chewing to achieve smooth passage down the throat. It’s a bit of a tease in a way, tempting you to leave the honeycomb in your mouth to dissolve, and even though you know you must chew it it still seems a cheat to start chewing.

The Violet Crumble is a tasty little chocolate bar. I’m not sure quite how it compares to a Crunchie, they seem pretty similar to me and I don’t have one to hand to make a direct comparison, but it certainly stands quite well on its own. To end, I’ll just point out that I got confused by the ‘best before’ date, wondering what ‘15 10 20 08′ could possibly mean before realising that it was referring to the year ‘2008′ but with ambiguous font spacing.

27th January 2008

Marshmallow Circus Peanuts

Filed under: From the US, Sweet, Sweets/Candy — Philip @ 7.32 pm

I like marshmallow, despite its overwhelming sweetness. I could eat so much it makes my tummy ache, and I generally have to avoid buying foods with marshmallow in them in case I get carried away. It is with some excitement and trepidation that I start on my next snack from the US, Marshmallow Circus Peanuts.

This doesn’t seem like a familiar marshmallow experience, however, as even before the bag is open the contents seem quite rigid, not quite the squidgy substance that I associate with the mallow. Opening the bag, I am overcome with a strong smell of banana flavouring. I’m not much of a fan of fake banana foods. At least, I presume so. I know that years ago I never liked certain banana-flavoured sweets and so have avoided them since. There’s something about the smell of banana-flavoured sweets that makes me think of something almost entirely unlike bananas that repels me somewhat. On top of that, banana-flavoured peanuts? This is a curious snack indeed.

In the interests of science, I tuck in. Grabbing a couple of these fake peanuts from the bag they really aren’t something I would describe as marshmallow. There is almost no give in the snack at all, being a solid orange peanut-shape. Despite my banana-flavouring misgivings I taste one. Hmm, sugary. There is certainly a smell of banana but no apparent taste of it; or there is and my sense of fake banana taste is misplaced. Another possibility is that the chemicals used to colour and ‘flavour’ these sweets, for I cannot bring myself to describe what I taste as actual flavour, swamps what the flavour actually should be.

This is not really marshmallow as I know it, but marshmallow compressed to a stage just before it becomes diamond so that it is a solid chunk of sugar, and the dreaded high fructose corn syrup, that hints at dissolving in saliva. Chewing the sweet doesn’t present anything like eating marshmallow either, but again a compressed sugary substance. Even so, it’s not a terrible experience. There are plenty in the bag, so can be dipped in to for small portions, and I can’t believe that this substance will ever turn bad, despite the best before date printed to make us believe otherwise, so they don’t need to be eaten quickly. In this way it’s a fair enough snack, as it gives your mouth something to chew on and presents some sort of flavour, albeit chemical.

The list of ingredients is essentially sugar or sugar-related products, plus a chemical flavouring and colouring. How they used solely ‘yellow #6′ and created an orange snack is impressive for all the wrong reasons. My favourite part of the packaging is where the manufacturer tries its best to offer an authentic peanut experience, stating that the snack is ‘manufactured on equipment that processes peanuts’. Yes, if you are allergic to peanuts you can eat these fake peanuts and still have a risk of going in to anaphylactic shock. That’s a lovely touch, I think.

10th December 2007

Oreos

Filed under: Biscuits/Cookies, From the US, Savoury, Sweet — Philip @ 10.15 pm

I know Oreos. I have never had them before, but I know of them. I know that they were invented in Baltimore and had a baseball team named after them. They are so famous that Philip J. Fry makes Oreos in the future. Whilst I haven’t eaten Oreos themselves I am aware of the general concept, that of a creamy filling sandwiched between two biscuits to form a crunchy, creamy experience, similar to the chocolatey Bourbons or buttery Custard Creams over here. Oreos seem to be half-way between the two, with chocolate biscuits encasing a light-coloured centre.

How to try them. I could peel the biscuit off the creamy centre and taste the parts individually, or I can crunch in to a whole Oreo and have the complete experience. I shall try the whole Oreo experience to start with.

My, that’s a dark biscuit. It doesn’t smell particularly chocolatey for something so dark, it has a rather pleasant biscuit smell. I also have a sneaking suspicion that Ebony and Ivory was written for this biscuit, and all that talk about pianos was a diversion to hide a sweet tooth.

Crunch crunch! Hmm, there’s not much taste when first bitten in to, but, my goodness, there is certainly some strong taste a few chews in, and it lingers. That’s quite powerful. I’m not entirely convinced I can taste the creamy centre, such is the strength of the biscuit and the thinness of the centre. Needs more creamy goodness! I can see why people peel these apart to eat the sections separately. Our own Custard Creams and Bourbons at least have enough filling to be tasted alongside the biscuit. Or maybe the biscuit is blander, which is probably true of the Custard Cream. Anyway, time to press on!

It occurs to me that the creamy centre offers two advantages. One is that it cushions the bite against the crunchy biscuit. The other is to soften the palate with its creaminess before the heavy chocolate biscuit taste kicks in. Mind you, the strength of the biscuit peters slightly with subsequent bites, or maybe it’s dulled my taste buds more than a vindaloo could.

Let me try the components separately. Before I do that, a quick diversion. The packaging is quite neat, with an easy open pull tab that actually both opens easily and reseals effectively, which I noticed when plucking a second biscuit from within. I am suitably impressed! This is technology that we could borrow over here. Although I have to admit to being a little ignorant of the state of the British biscuit packaging I wouldn’t be surprised to find out that a biscuit tin or jar is still required to decant all the biscuits of a pack in order to keep them fresh. The Oreo packaging is a neat, self-contained unit.

Back to the biscuit itself. Twisting the biscuits with opposite torque pulls the two biscuits apart from the creamy filling glue with little effort, although the centre adheres to both bits of the biscuit and is not found whole on one half. Scraping the filling off and tasting it reveals it to be mostly tasteless but sweet, with more of a fondant texture than the creamy fillings I’m used to here. It may simply be a sweet counterpart to the bitter biscuit, let me see. Yes, that seems about right. That’s a strong biscuit, and any flavour in the filling would be lost when eaten as a whole. I’m sure I couldn’t eat too many of the biscuits without the filling either. The two halves seem quite enough by themselves, and the filling by itself doesn’t really do anything for me. The Oreo as a whole is pretty tasty, but I think I’d prefer a Bourbon to be honest.

6th December 2007

They’re Whoppers!

Filed under: From the US, Sweet, Sweets/Candy — Philip @ 4.20 pm

Next up from the package of awesomeness that Kerri sent are Whoppers. I must admit that I’ve had Whoppers before, on my last visit to the US. Picking out some sweets to eat I noticed these, looking to be identical to our own Maltesers. That is, the chocolatey balls of sweetness look identical, the package itself is a curiosity, being a milk carton. As Whoppers are marketed as ‘malted milk balls’ I am assuming that the milk carton packaging is intentional. I never though of Maltesers as being milky, though. And there’s a reason for that.

Although there is a distinct resemblance to Maltesers, Whoppers are not Maltesers. The basic idea is the same, with a small ball of sugar surrounded by a milk chocolate shell, and I like the idea. Whoppers, however, unlike Maltesers, are actually milky in flavour. There is a certain sweet, milkyness to them, which can go by unnoticed if Whoppers are eaten in isolation to the UK sweet, but is quite obvious if Maltesers are tried side-by-side with this US snack. The difference in flavour is notable whether one crunches down on the chocolatey ball, or lets the whole ball melt in the mouth and dissolve down one’s throat. I’m torn between the two methods of eating them myself. The first causes an explosion of flavour that combines the milky, malty centre with the chocolate, but ploughs through them at an alarming rate; the second prolongs the whole experience, allowing the chocolate and then the malty ball to be savoured in all their glory, and makes the packet last for longer too.

I got Chrid, who had not tasted Whoppers before, to try them out and his reaction showed a benefit of the milk carton packaging, in that the sweets can be chugged, like milk, straight from the carton. Dammit, don’t Bogart the Whoppers.

Chrid chugs my Whoppers

I can’t say whether I prefer Maltesers or Whoppers. I like both, but haven’t got any Maltesers handy to compare them to directly. Whoppers are jolly nice, and great for a snack. The large packet size is, I would say, a good thing. Instead of being compelled to eat a whole albeit small bag of Maltesers in one sitting, the milk carton packaging allows one to dip in for a handful every now and again and close the packet up, just as one would a normal milk carton, without the balls spilling everywhere. The packaging also allows for a lot of space to add recipes for pies and milkshakes, with the Whoppers acting as textured sugar, so I doubt I’ll try them out, as well as a wonderful claim that the sweets contain ‘30% less fat’ along with small print that this is in relation to ‘the average of the leading chocolate candy brands’ that makes it so vague as to be nearly meaningless. It’s a nice thought, though.

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