Glico Kari Kari Cheese Pretz

My husband and I have been back in the United States for almost exactly seven years come the end of this month. This has nothing to do with Pretz, but it has something to do with the delay between the last review of the contents of my ZenPop cheese box and this one.

For the duration of our time back "home" (which often doesn't feel like home), we've lived without an actual television. That is not to say we didn't watch any content which is on TV, but just that we did it using a 28" monitor that we hooked up to a PC or our blu-ray player. My husband finally decided he was tired of seeing puny people from across the living room when we sat on our loveseat (Note: we also lived without any sort of "proper" furniture for about six years in terms of seating). So, we bought a 43" TV with the notion that we could now see things on screen more clearly with our aging eyes. Simple enough, eh?

Well, it turned out not to be so simple. We live in a pretty small house with a lot of impediments to furniture arrangement. It was built in 1949 and has few wall outlets, lots of heating vents, and unhelpfully placed doorways. I love the place and the size. I also love the neighborhood, but, boy howdy, is it hard to set up much of anythign in regards to furnishings. I ended up rearranging in anticipation of the TV, finding that failed greatly and then doing it all again three days later. My total investment in time for this game of musical furniture was about 15 hours. The whole experience totally wiped me out and I had no energy left for talking about pretzels.

By the way, all of that effort was for the picture below (cat not really a part of the process, but the thing on the far left is a treat dispenser which she was poking around in). It looks pretty simple, but that was the hard part. Getting it down to this level of sparseness was no small feat.

However, now that it's all worked out, I can focus on more important things like talking about salted snack foods. I love pretzels of pretty much any stripe, but there are two things about them which are missing from these Pretz and that was disappointing.

First, there is the flaky, crumbly interior of the pretzel which yields so beautifully compared the harder baked exterior. These have more of the texture of a piece of raw spaghetti (yes, I've eaten raw spaghetti for reasons which are very sad). They aren't quite that hard and they do yield a little bit, but there is something about the texture which is unsatisfying.

The second point which is missing is the distinctive rye flour flavor that I associate with pretzels. The cheese powder on this is pretty decent. It's got a pronounced processed cheese flavor with the appropriate savory notes and a little bit of a "dairy" kick, but it's not overbearing. It's also not too salty while being salty enough. The main problem is that the delivery system for the cheese flavor, the pretzel stick itself, is too insubstantial to hold its own.

This is not a bad snack by any stretch of the imagination. I just feel like it sacrificed some flavor complexity and textural satisfaction for a stronger crunch. They are more like a thick chip version of a pretzel than a normal Pretz. That may work for some people, but it didn't really do it for me.

Note: This was part of my free ZenPop snack box.

Glico Chubu Regional Pretz - Wasabi flavor

I would think that Glico ripped off Nestle's concept of issuing regional varieties of various foods if it weren't for the fact that I know the notion of regional specialty snacks almost certainly pre-dates Nestle's existence as a company. In fact, I wouldn't be surprised if it goes back hundreds of years in Japan (if not further). At any rate, the marketing concept seems certainly to be a similar one, and I believe it works much better for pretzels than for chocolate. You can make a pretzel savory or sweet without going through the looking glass. You can't really do that with chocolate, though Nestle Japan sure did try.

I rarely know off the top of my head why a certain flavor is paired with a certain region. For instance, I still don't know why rum raisin KitKats were paired with Tokyo as it is not famous for it's rum or grapes/raisins. It turns out that Nagano, which is in Chubu, is famous for wasabi so that is where this notion comes from. Prior to this, I just thought of Nagano as the place where everyone does snow sports. At any rate, wasabi is grown in various places including Tohoku so it is a very flexible choice for a regional Pretz.

I've tried wasabi Pretz before, but they were not a regional variety. As is so often the case, I believe that there is little or no difference between regional versions and regular versions of the same flavor. I knew when I bought these that they may be the same thing that I tried before in different packaging. As it turns out, I'm largely right, though there is a superficial difference which makes it questionable that these are, indeed, the same pretzel sticks.

In terms of the tasting experience, these are the same as far as my tongue can recall. They have the grassy flavor of wasabi and give a bit of a burn on the back of the tongue as a secondary flavor. By about the fifth stick, you're getting that familiar discomfort at the back of your nasal passages. Continuing onward from that point only makes the effect stronger. The sticks are fresh and crispy, but don't have the effect of shattering that you get from brittle bready pretzels. I wouldn't be surprised if these include more delicate layers of fat between the flour. These are tasty, savory, and just salty enough without being too much of anything.

The only difference that I can tell between these wasabi Pretz and the ones I tried before is that the others were tinted green and these were not. I don't know if that means some coloring was added before or if coloring was somehow removed this time. I can only say that it has no impact on anything other than aesthetics.

These are very fine flavored pretzel sticks and I can honestly say I'd buy them again since I believe I have already bought them twice now.

Glico Hiroshima-yaki Pretz

Recently, I went a little crazy buying vegetables. Yes, I'm one of those freaks of nature who actually enjoys them and going overboard set me up for days and days of eating eggplant, spinach, brussel sprouts, lettuce, and tomatoes (not all in one horrible salad) before they went bad. The truth is that there are few vegetables that I don't enjoy in one form or another... except peas.

Why has the pea been placed into veggie exile in my mind? It's not because of the taste necessarily. I'm not a fan of the texture, but I'm mainly thinking of canned peas and not fresh ones. I hate peas because my mother tried to force me to eat them when I was a child. When I think of them, I think of being forced to sit at the kitchen table with a plate of them in front of me. I played a power game with my mother on that day and I won. She and the peas both lost.

So, a lot of our food preferences are about taste, but some are about experience. I should probably give peas another chance, but then they (and my mother if she found out) would "win" and I'm not going to surrender my victory no matter how much time has passed. Okonomiyaki, the Japanese "pizza", "pancake", "omelet" or pile-of-stuff-that-looks-like-barf -(whatever you want to call it ) has a similar negative memory associated with it. If you don't want to read the linked post for the story, I'll say that I hate the connection between idiot school girls and okonomiyaki more than I dislike the taste of the actual dish.

Fortunately, I don't connect Pretze with school girls of any kind so I was willing to try out this "Hiroshima-yaki" with a picture of okonomiyaki on the front variety. Apparently, the Hiroshima-style okonomiyaki has a layer of yaki-soba noodles as well as bean sprouts, omelets, eggs, onions, and other typical ingredients. Incidentally, this is a "regional" Pretz. Yes, there are those just like there are regional KitKats.

I suspected when I bought this that it wasn't going to possess a rich flavor depth that included all of the involved ingredients. Pretz is, after all, a pretzel dusted with flavored salt. I don't think they carefully integrate seasoning into the dough before they bake the pretzels, but rather just use different flavoring on their basic pretzel. And, I was right. This has a light dusting of seasoning that gives it a mild okonomi sauce (that's the brown goo that is on top of the pancakes) flavor and not a whole lot else. It's got a little hint of Worchestershire sauce and soy and not nearly enough salt. The pretzel itself has a nice quality which is fresh and light, but nothing really to get too excited about.

If you are scared of something exotic, but want to fool yourself into thinking you're being adventurous with food, this is a great choice. It's a bit expensive for a fairly basic pretzel (I paid about $1.50 for this) and only worth it for the novelty factor. While I thought this was fine, I certainly wouldn't buy it again because it's just not that remarkable.

Glico Pretz Tokyo Baby Karinto (product information)

Image courtesy of Glico.

There's exclusive and then there's exclusive. Glico is producing a special version of their "Pretz" crackers in "karinto" (a sort of brown sugar log that is rather fatty and not really like a pretzel) for ANA (All Nippon Airways). Information on buying these is available via your local seat pocket on an ANA flight and they will be on sale on September 28, 2013 and be gone by the end of October. Each stick is a mere 22 mm/.86 in. in length and there are 6 individual portions per box to make them easy to distribute as a souvenir. The listed price is 840 yen ($8.40), but it may vary.

Though this sounds like you have to be on a plane to get it, you can pick one up at the "Glico Kitchen" shop in Tokyo station or the "Diversity Plaza" in Odaiba. The only way it seems to really have to do with airplanes is the shape of the design on the box. However, I could be wrong and ANA could be handing these out instead of your standard pretzels on flights for awhile. I never flew ANA while I was in Japan, but if anyone out there does, let me know if you get a box of these. 

Glico Apple Custard Pretz

Pretz are to pretzels as Japanese KitKats are to candy bars. They're the bold adventurers of the pretzel flavor world and come up with more provocative flavors than their more popular cousin and rival, Pocky. Pocky is hamstrung to a certain extent by the fact that it's distinguishing feature is a coating of chocolate or chocolate-like substances. That means that it is hard to develop savory flavors for it. Pretz, which is unfettered in this regard, can prance about nakedly in any environment it chooses - sweet, savory, bold, weak, vegetable, fruit, etc.

The naked Pretz in this case comes with sweet flavorings. These options, though possible in the pretzel world, tend to be relatively rare without the inclusion of coatings. Besides this apple custard variety, there is also a strawberry one and the remainder of the family is showing its stuff in meaty, fishy, savory options like takoyaki, okonomiyaki, wasabi, and mentaiko. Those are perhaps their best turns. The more "mundane" options are buttered potato, pizza, tomato, and "salad".

Looking back, I was surprised to see that I had reviewed 10 varieties of Pretz before, and I liked every single one of them. It caught me off guard because I don't really seek it out or consider it all that interesting. Further inspection revealed that most of the flavors I tried were somehow "weird" and no longer available. I should be more impressed with the brand, but like a woman with a great boyfriend that she somehow manages to take for granted, I simply did not notice. I'm sorry Pretz. I will try to do better by you.

I can say that particularly now because this flavor keeps the batting record for the brand intact. I really liked these. Though the smell was slightly funky and off-putting, the taste was surprisingly good. There is a first hit of very faint custard followed by a salty apple flavor. As you crunch your crispy, fresh pretzel stick, the apple gets stronger and it takes on a more astringent apple cider flavor. It fades away just a bit as you finish off a stick.

It's not out of the question that one would find the apple portion of this overbearing or the mix of salt and sweet unappealing. Personally, I sometimes salt apples when I eat them anyway so this is a natural pairing for me. The custard element is relatively subdued and tends to lend a richness and balancing flavor rather than a strong element, so don't expect too much on that front. For me though, this really "worked" and I'd buy it again.

Zunda Pretz

I have three words for you: Funky Monkey Babys (sic). No, they are not my new pets, but it'd be awesome if they were. And, no, I don't listen to them, as they are actually a Japanese music group. And finally, they are only tangentially related to this review (but, yes, still related). It's simply an extremely cool name for a rock group. Frankly, I think they should promote "Crunky" in Japan ("The Funky Monkey Babys present Crunky.")

The Funky Monkey Babys were a part of the reason that I received this regional Pretz as a gift. One of my students attended a charity concert for the victims of the Tohoku disaster in Sendai and picked this tidbit up for me. Zunda, as a few folks may recall from a Zunda KitKat review, is mashed soybean and is  used in cuisine in northern Tohoku. When my student gave it to me, I asked her if she had already sampled it, and what she made of it. She made one of those faces which suggested that, if you don't have anything nice to say, don't say anything at all. When she relented and gave an opinion, said it was very salty, and that it was good with beer. Beer makes everything better, it seems. I'm sure it's how men manage to watch interminably boring professional sports. Being a teetotaler, I'll never know for sure, but I'm going to try these Pretz with Coke Zero.

This is a tiny little box of Pretz with zero information printed on the box. I'm guessing it was part of a multi-pack of souvenirs that one could buy and distribute to friends and coworkers after a scenic trip to what I'm sure many believe is a rapidly expanding nuclear wasteland in the general area. Still, it can't be all bad if the Funky Monkey Babys are willing to go there. A little research revealed that this was, indeed, part of a 6-pack for 630 yen ($8.26). Each box is 27 grams (just shy of an ounce). It's on the expensive side for the volume of snacks, but on par for souvenirs.

My expectation was that this was going to be pretty good. My students reluctance to endorse it didn't really daunt me because many Japanese people have more sensitive palates than foreigners do. This is due to the fact that much more food is subtle or bland in Japan rather than flavor blasted. I guessed that what was too salty for her may suit me just fine.

The sticks are half as tall as usual sticks. They are impressively green and smell strongly of edamame. One bite revealed why this is so. They have an strong, but not unpleasant, chlorophyll flavor and are like having a mouthful of edamame. They've definitely done a good job of incorporating the flavor of zunda. The other savory flavors, like chicken extract, build up the flavor profile but don't separate out from the basic soy bean flavor. Despite what my student said, I found these strong and flavorful, but not particularly salty.

I really enjoyed these and would definitely consider having them again if they become available locally. If you really, really love edamame, these should float your boat, but they may not suit all tastes. For me, I found them unique and refreshing.

Sudachi Pretz

One thing which I have come to understand as a food reviewer is that depth of flavor is very important when you're sampling a bunch of crap and want to find some way of distinguishing the run-of-the-mill snack food dreck from the beyond-the-mill snack food dreck. The thing that tends to separate the big boys like Glico from the small fries like Riska is that they layer flavors into their products instead of just heap tons of one particular flavor onto them. That being said, I'm pretty sure that most of the people who cram these things into their snack holes aren't paying nearly as much attention to the subtle flavors as the likes of me. Glico's efforts are wasted on most, but I have nothing but love for their devotion of offering a multiplicity of flavors in a lowly pretzel snack.

Because I'm not a food expert and just spend my time with junk food, I had never heard of sudachi before buying this for a mere 100 yen ($1.30) at Okashi no Marche super discount snack shop. Of course, I saw the words on the front, and the citrus fruit and bits of green onion, but I didn't know if that was the name of a particular dish that these were aping or a primary flavor. I assumed those green things on the front were limes, but they are actually a Japanese citrus fruit which is supposed to be "zestier" than lemons or limes according to Wikipedia.

Despite what Wikipedia says, these definitely taste very similar to limes though I will admit that they are very "zippy" in flavor. Though they smell rather funky, they taste very good and have a good savory mix of salt, citrus, and an almost warming finish of onion. I wasn't kidding when I talked about flavor depth and layering. These have it and you'll notice it if you aren't too busy snarfing them down to pay attention to what's dancing across your taste buds.

Each box has two packets of 27.5 grams (about an ounce) which provide you with 136 calories of carbohydrate and sodium fun. I strongly recommend picking these up if you're a pretzel fan and can find them. This is part of Glico's regional Pretz campaign (which appears to come about once a year) and this particular flavor is one that is available nationwide. This is in contrast to the "spicy chicken wing" variety that I reviewed previously that was an East Japan release. These would make a tasty accompaniment to your favorite beverage (provided it's not coffee or tea) or good movie snacking food in a portion controlled package.

Spicy Chicken Wings Pretz

Once a year, usually around the summer in my experience, Glico issues regional flavors of Pretz. For East Japan, the flavors are these spicy chicken wing pretzels and gyoza (pot sticker). West Japan gets yuzu koshoo (boy, do I envy that!) and a peppered fish flavor (which I envy a good deal less). This King Solomon approach, split the country in half and divide the Pretz between them, is ameliorated to some extent by the inclusion of two nation-wide varieties, one of which I will review at a later date.

You can buy these nearly anywhere right now, but I got them for a mere 50 yen (64 cents) at a discount snack shop in Koenji called Okashi no Marche. I've mentioned this place before. They are absolutely the cheapest game in town when it comes to snacks, though they also carry some pretty expensive imports (especially from the U.K. and Russia). They had four varieties of Pretz available. I'm not sure why they were so cheap, but I wasn't going to turn down the chance to sample them for that price. One box has two packages of about 1 oz. (28 grams) each and provides 137 calories. It's a good portion size for serious salty snacking.

These have a nice savory flavor which hits the hardest on the first few sticks. There's a peppery flavor and savory chicken and garlic in the mix. The saltiness level is just about right, but a little more might not have hurt. My main "issue" with these is that the flavor seems to be something one acclimates to rather rapidly. After about 6 sticks, you mainly just taste pretzel. It could be my tongue, or it could be there's something about these spices. Regardless, these are good pretzels and, if nothing else, the flavor acclimation issue may encourage lighter consumption. I'd definitely buy them again.

Glico Wasabi Pretz

Today, the "s" key on my keyboard stopped functioning. As I looked at my puny buffer of posts on this blog, I pondered how things have changed since I started it. When I first started this reviews blog, I often had a buffer of nearly 2 months. In fact, it was so large that I was worried that, by the time the posts appeared, some of the food would be off the market. Now, I'm lucky to have the next week covered. That means that having a keyboard that is out of commission actually might mean an interruption in posting.

To combat this dire turn of events, I fished around in the closet for an old PC keyboard that might work on my Mac Mini. Lo and behold, I found a Japanese USB keyboard which was insufferably awful but worked on a Mac. When I say it's "awful", I mean because the keys are oriented differently and there are extra keys. Also, it's like typing on an old typewriter in terms of the feedback and touch. So, if I make more mistakes in my blog posts than usual (quite a feat in and of itself), blame the fact that I'm working with a keyboard handicap.

It's my intense dedication to bringing you, my wonderful readers, a post every weekday that has me slaving away at substandard equipment. Fortunately, I have the kick of wasabi to fuel my fingers as they are forced to hammer extra hard at the chunky keys I am working with. That makes me think that there should be a product out there with a mascot called "super wasabi monkey" that eats horseradish snacks and becomes charged up. I guess that sounds too much like Popeye with his spinach, but, hey, monkey! He should wield a wasabi root, and wear an eyepatch.

Getting to the pretzels I'm here to review, I picked these up at Okashi no Marche super discount snack shop for a mere 50 yen (62 cents), marked down to about half of their usual price. This gets you two foil packets of about one ounce (27.5 grams) of green pretzels. If you snarf down a whole packet, you're putting away 137 calories.

The pretzels smell a bit funky, but they taste very good. They have just enough of a grassy, chlorophyll taste to add a savory depth, but not enough to make you feel like your chewing on a leaf stem. They burn the lips a bit, and build up a little  heat on the back of the tongue and nasal passages, but it's a little flare of heat that dissipates rather than builds up. That being said, the "kick" grows with every bite, but it never does the searing burn that chili peppers or jalepenos manage with prolonged consumption.

These are nice, flavorful pretzels with much more complexity than most. The thing which is rather neat about it is that they get that depth without resorting to piling on a ton of flavor powder. The pretzels themselves are crispy, but just a delivery mechanism for the flavor. They're lightly salted, but that works well with the wasabi. If you're a fan of wasabi otherwise, I think these will be a delight. I think they'd make a great movie viewing snack, but would recommend a beverage along with them to slow down the heat build-up.

Ogura (red bean) Pretz

Awhile back, I reviewed the gyoza (potsticker) Pretz and said I would also be reviewing this red bean variety. Shortly after that review, I put the second box of Pretz into a basket on top of my refrigerator (in which snacks wait for sampling) and forgot about it. Fortunately, these are still on sale so this review hasn't lapsed into irrelevance.

You can find these in most snack shops and convenience stores, but I got this at a discount snack shop in Koenji called  Okashi no Marche. They cost 99 yen ($1.14). Each box has two 27.5 gram (about 1 oz.) foil packets of pretzels and there are 135 calories. This is pretty average for this portion of pretzels. The ingredients list is as expected (flour, margarine, etc.), excepted that it includes adzuki powder.

Yes, this is the same picture from my other review. The pretzels look exactly the same. Only the powder flavoring is different.

It's rather a shame that I waited so long because these are really good. I've never had a sweet pretzel that really wowed me that wasn't coated in some form of chocolate, but this came about as close as a pretzel can to doing so. The red bean flavor isn't as "beany" as these things can be. It's more of an essential essence with the beaniness removed. They're lightly sweetened, but not so faintly that you can't detect the sweetness.

I would recommend these for red bean sweet novices. They introduce you to the flavor without any of the elements which tend to put people off of them. I really liked them, but those who really, really love adzuki and its textural elements may find it too limited an emulation of the red bean experience. I'll definitely buy them again though.

Potsticker (Gyoza) Pretz

Glico is currently doing a campaign in which it is offering limited edition flavors of its Pretz pretzel sticks in either east or west Japan. I am in the eastern area so I can buy this potsticker flavor along with "scallop butter" and "ogura" (sweetened red beans). I bought the bean and potsticker (gyoza in Japanese) versions and passed on the scallop version. Western Japan is getting grilled onion, yuzu koshoo, and eel. I don't much care about any of those except yuzu koshoo, which I love as a sembei flavor.

I found these at Okashi no Marche, a new discount snack shop in a neighborhood opposite mine, for 99 yen ($1.14). Each box has two 27.5 gram (about 1 oz.) foil packets of pretzels.The ingredients list really didn't reveal much about the flavoring except that pork extract and Sucralose (the artificial sweetener) are included along with typical pretzel ingredients and additives.

When I opened the foil packet, I was hit by the familiar scent of the type of dipping sauce you get with gyoza in Japan. It's a combination of soy sauce and hot sesame oil. The first bite of the sticks revealed a pretty decently authentic representation of gyoza, without the familiar wrapper's taste. They are savory and nicely salted without being overbearing. The hot sesame oil flavor has a heat build-up, but it's not really the kind that lingers on the tongue. It tends to warm your entire mouth more evenly and is quite pleasant.

These are really good. If you're a gyoza fan, and particularly if you enjoy the dipping sauce and spicy sesame oil, I strongly recommend giving them a try. I really enjoyed them, though they are, after all, only pretzels, so I can't get too excited about them.

Glico Spicy Nori Pretz

I'm a sucker for salted snack treats in Japan that put a little red chili pepper on the label design. In fact, I'm unlikely to look much further once I see it's shiny redness and that's why I bought these giant seaweed (nori) pretzels (のりー味かぶりつきプリッツ) despite not being a great fan of nori. I found these at a 7-11 outside of my immediate home area for 103 yen ($1.15).

These are part of what translates as the "ringside" series of Glico snacks. Previously, I reviewed a Giant Pocky which was offered under the same label and I still don't know why it is called that or if I'm translating the words properly. All I know is that these are 30 cm. (11.8 in.) long and a little over 1 cm. (.4 in.) wide. The package contains two pretzel sticks stacked on top of one another in a long plastic tray. One of my pretzels was already cracked apart, but the other was in perfect shape.

The ingredients for these include soy sauce seasoning, seaweed flakes, and a host of pretzel-like things like yeast, flour, and shortening. They look and smell like whole wheat flour was used. The package says that they include wheat protein so that may account for the more robust wheat flavor. There are 3.1 grams of protein in them and 140 calories if you eat both sticks (and you would if you bought them).


Since they have little green flecks of seaweed on them, they also carry the faint smell of nori. They're a very hearty-looking pretzel with lots of visible spices and salt. The truth is that they really are not proper pretzels but more like the bastard child of a pretzel and a cracker. The texture is softer and more cookie-like than a conventional pretzel, but it's still crispy. This was very flavorful with a mix of spices that came together well. The heat ends to hit you at the end and accumulate as you eat more, but it's not like jalepeno heat that starts to seriously burn more and more. My mouth didn't feel overly hot by the end of the second pretzel.

I liked these quite a lot because they were flavorful and the texture was really satisfying. If you're looking for a hard pretzel experience, these might not fit the bill. I should also note that the seaweed flavor is present, but not as strong as eating a cracker wrapped in nori so this isn't for fans of intense seaweed flavors so much as nori wusses like me.

Glico Bacon Pretz

One of the lessons I teach my students is about the environment and food. It explains that many forest are cut down to create pastures for cattle so that we can have cheap burgers at places like MacDonald's. At the end of that lesson, there's a list of foods and students are asked if they are willing to sacrifice eating those foods in order to reduce the damage done to the environment. Bacon or ham is listed, and my students say they would never give it up. That being said, they say they don't eat a lot of it, but they do like to add small amounts of bacon to various dishes to enhance flavor.


Bacon is such an intensely flavorful food that it lends itself well to being a seasoning rather than a main dish, and it can be a truly wonderful flavoring in salted snack foods when used properly. I've had some good and not so good experiences with bacon-flavored salted snacks in Japan, and I'm pleased to say that these Pretz pretzels sticks fall into the "good" category.

I picked up this 48 gram (1.7 oz.) bag at a local market for 98 yen ($1.09) where it was on sale with another "new" flavor which didn't really light my fire, tomato. It's not that I don't like tomato, but rather that I'd rather get my tomato flavor from, well, tomatoes. I also think there's a chance tomato will be "ketchup" when it comes to salted snack seasoning. There are a plethora of delicate 10 cm. (about 4 in.) long sticks in the bag and it conveniently has a Ziploc-style top to allow you to reseal it.

When you open the bag, it smells rather "hammy" inside. The sticks are so thin and delicate that it's easy to break them. They have a very "fresh" yeast-like flavor and are just salty enough. The bacon flavor is very present, but not overbearing and the finish is of black pepper. They're not hot at all though and there's no cumulative heat effect. The ingredients include pork extract, soy sauce seasoning, onion powder, and bacon extract.

These were really good pretzels. They're not sublime or "to die for", but if I were in the market for a salted snack, I'd definitely add these to my basket again. The seasoning is really well-balanced and there are a lot of sticks for the 229 calories in the entire bag.

Purple Potato Pretz

There is a wide variety of flavored Pretz brand pretzels available in Japanese markets right now. Since my first lackluster experience with Pretz (Cheddar Pretz), I have been finding it hard to work up any enthusiasm for the basil, pumpkin, and tomato versions that have been around for ages. The idea of a "purple potato" version sounded more intriguing.

To be honest, I'm not even sure what a purple potato is. The front of the bag shows the average sweet potato with purple skin and yellow flesh as well as a purple flesh version. Part of what makes this appealing is the idea that I might be ingesting some sort of earth-alien hybrid vegetable or perhaps the bastard offspring of a grape that happened to mate with a standard sweet potato. Sure, it's possible. I'm not crazy.


The purple potato Pretz are not just sweet potato flavored. They also include olive oil and hibiscus. I'm not sure what hibiscus tastes like, but there is a picture of some nice-looking pink flowers accompanied by the bottom of a pot of golden olive oil on the back of the bag. The bag is 42 grams (1.5 oz.) and 203 calories. I picked it up for 98 yen (about a dollar) at a drug store, but I think these tend to be slightly more expensive in markets and convenience stores.

When you open the bag, you smell a nice sweet potato scent. The pretzels are rather freakishly purple looking, but they are not artificially colored. The first bite is of salty sweet potato followed by a trace of olive oil and a very faint floral note. The flavor has good depth and seems strange at first, but it really grew on me. They're both sweet and savory and have an interesting mix of earthy flavors that come together quite well.

If you like sweet potatoes and aren't a purist, I'd strongly recommend giving these a try. I would definitely buy them again. The only risk is of eating them all at once.

Cheddar Pretz

There is a whole category of snacks in Japan that are marketed as accompaniments to alcohol. Since this is a country where alcohol is an important social lubricant that allows stoic salary men to let loose on a regular basis, one can say that alcohol operates as a socially sanctioned therapist opening cathartic floodgates and letting the tension pour out.

These types of snacks to accompany alcohol are called "otsumami" in Japanese. They range from little whole dehydrated fish to strips of squid to chips and pretzels. I've seen the scarier bits hanging in convenience stores and liquor shops for years, but am not brave enough to chow down on dried fish as they stare back at me with their dead eyes. Pretzels, on the other hand, can hardly be offensive.


Pretz are just pretzel sticks presented plain or with flavoring. I'd say they were a savory rip-off of Pocky, but they're both made by the same company so it's not exactly theft. Also, this is a pretzel stick. It's a pretty basic concept that cannot be claimed as original to any particular company. This particular variety of Pretz has 6% cheddar cheese in it and I'm going to say that that's not nearly enough. When you open one of the two foil packets in the box, you smell a fairly strong cheesy flavor, but the smell doesn't translate into much cheese taste. They're also not incredibly salty.

All in all, they're not a bad pretzel experience, but not a spectacular one. The back of the box makes mention of the fact that there is pepper on them, but there is very little and it doesn't make much of a difference in taste. There is also Sucralose in these. In fact, there seems to be a lot of artificial sweetener in Japanese snacks for reasons I can't understand.

Japanese-made pretzels are no different than Western-made ones. They just cost a little more, are lighter in color, come in smaller portions and have less salt. Each box comes with two 31-gram (1 oz.) foil packets that will set you back 139 calories. If you're hot for some pretzels, these will do you fine, but don't expect any serious cheesy goodness to come along with them. I guess if you're getting potted and blowing off steam about the boss, you're probably not all that concerned about how much serious cheddar flavor you're going to get on your nosh.