Today I took a trip to the Asian grocery with T, to peruse the selection and get some new blog fodder. I haven’t done a Japanese snack review in some time, so when I saw that the grocery was finally carrying Meltykiss, it was a match made in heaven.I’m pretty sure these are the last of the holiday selection of food that they couldn’t sell in Japan, because the package is adorned with snowflakes, but we got them and they’re still quite tasty. My only experience with Meltykiss was from what I’d seen online, so my impression of them was much different than my experience. I really loved the packaging. I know it might seem like overkill, but it was really perfect to have them all in the little box. The individual wrapping was a nice touch, too. I would definitely bring these to school and share them with friends. It made it easy to pop in my mouth and just eat without the worry of having a messy chocolate melt all over my hands.These smell identical to a chocolate covered strawberry, with a subtle, slightly muted strawberry scent and a dark, rich chocolatey aroma wafting up from the cube. The flavor was nice and dark, and the strawberry wasn’t artificial at all. It was tart and fruity and perfectly sweetened. Finally, a snack that wasn’t too sweet for me. The chocolate was a little waxy and took longer to melt than I’d hoped, but the flavor was delicious and very satisfying. One cube did the trick for me! There wasn’t as much cocoa powder on these, but the power of the ingredients made this a worthwhile and memorable snack.
This is an absolutely terrible name. I mean, it’s a bastardization of a moon pie, fueled with the tears of grandchildren (true story!) and manages to become entirely tasteless. But it’s a Southern classic, with an RC Cola, and since I’m not in the South, we get the leftover brand name confection, the scooter pie.
Moon pie has its flavors, though, and varieties popped out every so often to make life exciting. But the scooter pie doesn’t even have its own website, it’s so vague. So I went out on a quest to see exactly what this enigma tasted like.Unwrapping it, I was dismayed to find that there were two of these circular hells in the package. The chocolate didn’t melt on my hands, it was that waxy, and the marshmallow inside had the consistency of Silly Putty and a similar flavor. Believe me, I know. That’s exactly how I lost my first tooth. The surrounding graham crackers were both mushy and crumbly at the same time, like some Schrodinger’s Crap paradox, and the entire combination was like the s’more from hell.Look, South, stick to fried chicken and red velvet cake. This. Is. Not. Food. NOT FOOD. Don’t eat it. Don’t touch it. It’s really quite cruel to consider chewing on, as the byproduct turns out to be the exact consistency of gum dropped in a sandbox. Bad food.
Edit: Swap-Twats, begone! TL; DR, leave my site be. Thanks. Once again, I’ve signed up for another quirky website with lavish intentions and once again, I have failed miserably. I tried doing this Swap Bot thing, where you send one person a package and someone else sends you one, in a misguided attempt to make friends and get food from around the world, but alas, I wasn’t able to go to the post office and ended up forgetting the deadlines, but am now receiving packages from people anyhow.
One of the packages was from a girl named Rebecca in the UK, whom, if she doesn’t utterly despise me for not upholding the Swap Bot sacrament, I’d love to swap more with in the future. She send an utter panoply of goodies for me to review, one of which was the Cadbury Crunchie bar. Having tried one of these in the far past, it was nothing short of miraculous to have one again.Cadbury takes Milton Hershey himself and curbstomps the shit out of him. The coating of chocolate around the Crunchie is far preferable to an entire bar. Not only is this the real deal, straight from the UK, but it is a lot less sweet than the flavor a whole block of it would yield. That being said, that coating is generously applied and is rich and creamy. It does, in a small layer outside of the bar, what two Hershey bars rarely touch at. It completely satisfies the need for chocolate and delivers a powerful and amazing addition to the center of the bar.That center consists of a gradient colored honeycomb center. When you bite into the bar, the comb doesn’t shatter, but because of its foamy, packed texture, simply breaks off cleanly and leaves no mess. The center of the bar is a little more brittle and aerated than the sides, which remind me of floral styrofoam, slightly powdery and crumbling nicely. The flavor is nice and subtle, with a little honey and a little malt, and goes well with the chocolate to make a chocolate bar that isn’t too sweet at all. It’s perfect. I need more. I think I’ve found my new partner in crime.
So my woman is in Paris, and I have nothing else to do with my life but watch bad TV shows at night with Dickinson and make snarky comments. A show that invokes my rabid side is The Next Food Network Star. Having watched it incessantly for the last three years, I consider myself a seasoned veteran of judging human beings and Bobby Flay.This brings the Pringles Honey Butter Stix to the table. They’re crunchy and plentiful, so I don’t have to keep getting up during the stupid Walmart commercials to grab a snack. They have rounded edges so that when I throw them at the TV for something stupid Herb does or over a particularly flamboyant move from Alexis, the screen doesn’t get ruined. The honey and butter flavors really come out in a non-fake way, unlike Giada’s breasts, and make a calm, mellow sweetness that tones me down to a level when I start screaming at another fucking rendition of sabayon.The stix, despite being spelled in an asinine fashion, like “Dzindra,” are really tasty and take on an interesting flavor for a snack. There’s no powder on them, so my paws don’t get greasy or coated with junk when I try, in vain, to change the channel, and I think that the flavor would go really well on an actual Pringles. I find it strange that they’re Pringles-related, but don’t actually have potato in them. They’re more of a Ritz bastardization than anything else, but are far better than the Ritz honey butter crackers that came out a few years back. I’d love to see this on a chip to use as a dessert base, or just to eat as a comforting, bucolic flavor. Honey and butter is one of my favorite combinations and I’m glad they went out on a limb and tried it. Suzy Fogelson spares the original and off-beat, like this snack, and sodomizes the rest with zucchini.
A few nights ago, my father and I toasted the end of a successful school year with the Soirée and a 2009 Argentinian Malbec. This clever little piece was sent to me from the PR folks at Soirée, and was exciting for me to try out with dinner.The Malbec that we tried, upon first taste, was robust and tasty, and ended up being much sweeter and berry-like than I’d thought, with better legs than Julia Roberts and a fruity, dark nose. Alone, it was really quite delicious, but I was intrigued to see how it would taste with the addition of a little aeration.Using the Soirée was a little bit complex, as both my father and I were dubious about completely upturning a wine bottle over our glasses, but lo, with the magic of science and pressure, it was entirely plausible. And for a tiny little device, it creates a very memorable effect. Like magic, the wine swirled all over the interior, effectively covering all surfaces and aerating all the wine instantaneously.Now, color me jaded, but I’m not as big a fan of this as I ought to be. It’s all very attractive and gadgety, and it sure looks pretty on top of the bottle, like a giant glass bong, but I didn’t taste any difference between the undecanted Malbec and the decanted one. In fact, when I decant wine, I prefer less of a smoke and mirrors, “ta da” effect, favoring one that mulls over a little more. Wine can be just as easily decanted in a $350 Riedel bottle as a regular glass, letting it air for a bit, in my opinion. Decanting is only really good for a select few, anyhow. I’m sure it released some nice flavors in this one, but hell, you wouldn’t decant a ’45 Rothschild, would you?This is pretty and cute and makes a lovely gift, but as far as actually decanting, I’m on the fence. It would definitely be a hit at parties when you want to show your guests a good time and can’t fit a hibachi grill on your back patio, but if you’re looking for a decanter, don’t look here. It’s all talk and no aeration. And rhyming is for pussies.
This is less of a review than an homage to the late and great Clark’s, closed recently due to budget constraints. My father and I went here after a job interview of mine to sit and talk and eat some pancakes.
Clark’s didn’t have pan-Asian African fusion or a funky mix of microbrews. It wasn’t famous for any one chef and its state of the art kitchen was right in front of a few lucky diners. It was, in all its glory, another damned good place to eat.
I used to go to Clark’s with my dad on rainy afternoons in New Haven, after a day at the British Art Gallery or another museum, and in retrospect I remember the setting in a foggy fashion, framed by Yale and forever looping its glory days in the mist. It was a restaurant built on chrome stools and a decades long reputation.Today, we ordered pancakes.
Dad and I sat and watched them cook a few meals. The manager came over and chatted with the chef about what it’ll be like when it all closes down, and the waitress softened at the edges with a touch of sunlight, but still called everyone she saw “hun” and “sugar.”Clark’s, you will be missed. Our stomachs prowl the streets in vain for another classic haunt.
Terrible clichés, you know you’ve seen them. Shit, they’re just there in the air, hovering like a doddering grandmother or a terrible air freshener. On Tuesday, Keepitcoming Love and I not only drank pina coladas, but we got caught in the rain like an hour later.
Perhaps some things are good enough to be true.
But in all honesty, it might be time for me to just face the music and consider another typical pairing in the gastronomical world- chocolate and almonds. It’s hotter than a two dollar whore or the average body temperature of an attendee at an ICP concert, and definitely noses its way into a ton of different candy-related situations. Almonds are one those ingredients, like sriracha or L’Heure Bleue, that lends itself to a myriad of possibilities.This particular chocolate almond bar, by Cocoa Dolce, is downright indulgent. There are no chips of almonds, but entire nuts, and every single nut is circled by a shitton of chocolate. A metric shitton. The chocolate is smooth and bites well, without crumbling off and flaking like a deadbeat parent at a carnival. It’s not too sweet, but maintains a slow melt, almost like a liqueur, that makes it richer and more indulgent than just the plain stuff. A very piercing and deliciously imparted flavor from a milk chocolate.Each almond is perfectly roasted and doesn’t shed that gross almond skin. The combination is both nutty and pure, slightly bitter and caramely sweet. This bar is enough to serve two happily, and surpasses all the other chocolate almond posers with their screamo music tutorials and crappy scene kid hair cuts.