Showing posts with label almond. Show all posts
Showing posts with label almond. Show all posts

Friday, October 4, 2013

Ritter Sport Dark Chocolate Marzipan


My quest for marzipan continues on. Some day, I'm sure that I can make a movie about my epic adventures in purchasing various packages of marzipan, photographing them, opening them up, breaking them into pieces, taking photographs of those pieces, and then tasting them. The tension in the movie can come from the point at which I frown in concentration and scan through my digital photos and fail to find my photos. The resolution to the drama comes when I hunt down a standard PR picture and use that instead of expiring at the grief of having misplaced my photos again. I'm sure it'll be a box office smash.

I realize that the Ritter Sport line is pretty common and many people probably have more experience with it than I do. In fact, it seems to be marketed worldwide since I even saw it in Japanese convenience stores in Tokyo. Oddly, despite my love of European chocolates (this is made in Germany), I remember only buying one of these once in my 23 years in Tokyo and I have no idea what flavor it was. The only thing I can say was that it was not marzipan. When I ran across this bar for a mere $1.49 at "Discount Grocery Outlet" (a quality establishment), I knew that the time had come to continue my slow and tasty journey into the world of consumer-level marzipan chocolate.

I had better expectations of this bar than previous ones because I figured the dark chocolate would compliment the sweet marzipan filling. I figured that it would add a balance without detracting from the almond flavored filling. And, I was right. The marzipan was just sweet enough without being overbearing and the coating complimented it well. The chocolate kept the marzipan nice and moist.

The only thing I didn't like about this was that I'd have preferred a higher ratio of almond paste to chocolate. I'm not even sure if that is possible, but I think my hope springs eternal. Perhaps someone needs to cater to people like me by wrapping the marzipan in oblaat. Okay, that sounds a bit gross even to me even though it shouldn't.

I wouldn't say this is better than my other adventures in consumer-level shelf-stable marzipan, but I would say it's just as good. It's also cheaper and more accessible than other versions. I'd certainly buy it again, and I think it's very good quality for the price point and target market.


Friday, August 9, 2013

Schluckwerder Chocolate-covered Marzipan


The previous time that I reviewed marzipan, I learned that it is often covered in chocolate as a means of preservation and not because people don't believe that almond paste is awesome all by itself. Of course, Americans in general aren't big into the joys of marzipan because most of what they are exposed to is pretty crummy quality stuff. In fact, I'm pretty sure that I've only experienced some of the worst marzipan, but that's okay. I like bad frozen pizza, so there's no reason not to embrace my inner poor sense of taste and enjoy the worst that the world has to offer in multiple respects. I am nothing if not open to new experiences all across the lower end of the snack food spectrum.

I do not know if this Schluckwerder marzipan is supposed to be good or poor quality stuff. I do know that it was relatively cheap compared to some other types. This 50 gram/1.76 oz. "loaf" (yes, they seem to call these things "loaves") was a mere $1.29 at a European import market that I visited several weeks ago. You can find it online from the German Deli, though the sizes that are in stock at any given time varies. I do know that "Schluckwerder" sounds like a name that would get used in a Monty Python sketch about Germans and that means it is a cool name.

I can't help but note that the packaging is reminiscent of Neideregger marzipan, which I've heard is the bee's knees of mass market marzipan. It's also much more expensive than this so my cheap ass has not yet tried it. However, I will, eventually, pay for the experience.



Since marzipan goes nasty quickly, sealing it in chocolate is a way to keep it a little fresher, so I stupidly cut it into 4 portion-controlled pieces. I forgot about the "sealing" aspect before I did this, but I do expect to keep it in a sealed container in the refrigerator and eat it all up over 4 days. Hopefully, that will stop it from turning into some mutant almond paste monster before I can devour it.

In terms of the marzipan itself, I'm pretty happy with it. It's not as sweet as some varieties, and the chocolate is less of a hindrance than in some candies. The coating isn't especially sweet or strong in flavor, so it tends to mainly function as the sealing agent. However, that is not to dismiss it as flavorless or waxy (which a sealant may be seen as). It's just enough to add a hint of chocolate and a crispy texture. This is not a fatty chocolate so it's not especially soft, but that's okay because almond paste has enough fat to carry the day.

The almond paste was what I'd call "fine". It wasn't as good as the best I've had, but it wasn't bad. It reminded me a bit of coconut in terms of texture and wasn't really as sweet as the Mozart brand. This is somewhat of a plus, but the flavor seemed a little "flatter" than I might like.

If I was in the mood for marzipan, this would certainly do me, though it's a little like eating a Hershey's Kiss for a chocolate fix instead of a nice bit of Lindt (which is one of the best consumer-level, mass market chocolates in my experience). For the price, I'm not complaining, but I can't say that I'm going to run out and stock up.


Friday, May 17, 2013

Glico Almond Crush Pocky


When I first returned to the U.S., I bought things which I had old memories of in order to see if they still tasted like I expected them to be. One of the first things I tried was a bag of Hershey's Kisses. I wanted to see if they were different than those sold in Japan. I came back to the place we were staying and put them in the refrigerator. My father-in-law, who had picked us up and the airport and was spending a week with us while we tried to get our "sea legs" for living in the U.S. (something we desperately needed his support with), said that he found that chocolate tastes better when it's not too cold. I believe that is true, but not for cheap chocolate.

When I tried Pocky Midi, I liked it a lot better while cold, but I expected that I'd feel differently about this Almond Crush version. I figured the softness of the former was caused by the white chocolate base used in the strawberry. Well, not so much... I think I figured out why I have never been a big fan of Pocky and that's because the coating is too soft for my tastes. As I mentioned before, I like chocolate with snap. What is more, I like nuts with crunch and this had neither, until I got it cold. Then, all was right with the world again.


I like the general concept of Pocky since I am a fan of chocolate and pretzels, though certainly one of my issues is that Pocky's pretzel sticks are not actually salted. I think the flavor profile would be better if the sticks were adding depth to the flavor profile rather than simply being a delivery mechanism for the coating. Nonetheless, this coating is one that did strike my fancy. I'm an enormous fan of almonds. They are second only to hazelnuts as my favored nut of choice to party with chocolate in a sweet, and that's only because I'm an incredible Nutella whore.

The coating on these is very typically Japanese in that the chocolate isn't overly sweet, has just a few more bittersweet notes, and is super smooth and fatty (hence the softness). The nuts add more flavor than crunch, but they do add some textural interest as well. The flavor depth is pretty good with the chocolate hitting first, the basic mix of both coming second, and the almonds coming on strong at the end.

This is pretty much a no-brainer for anyone who likes Pocky, almonds, and chocolate. For me, I really did like them, and those lovely almonds that rough up the chocolate landscape are a siren song to me. These came to me courtesy of the fine folks at Candysan, who are carrying this for only a $1.73/170 yen a box. If I were making an order, I may not order this alone, but I'd surely toss a box into an order for more exotic things like the previously reviewed green tea Oreo chocolates.

Sadly, this completes my review of the box of goodies sent to me by Candysan, but there are always more things to be found and reviewed.


Friday, May 3, 2013

Meiji Horohorone Chocola Almond and Candy-san


When I was growing up, it wasn't especially uncommon for girls to be named "Candy". Of course, this was usually short for names like "Candace", but some people just liked to name their kids after confectionery. I guess they wanted a reminder to eat something that would ruin their teeth at regular intervals or were on the cutting edge of naming your kids after food long before Gwyneth Paltrow called her kid "Apple."

If you go to Japan and are, unfortunately, named "Candy", then there's a good chance that someone somewhere along the line will call you "Candy-san". I know that I was called "Shari-san" all of the time, even though they should have been adding "san" to my last name rather than my first one. As an aside, I should mention that those who called me "Ms." would call me "Ms. Shari" rather than by my last name and it always made me feel like I was a character in "Gone With the Wind" (a la "Miss Scarlet or "Miss Melanie").

The reason I'm mentioning Candy-san is that I was contacted by a mail order company by that name and their representative (who is not actually named "Candy") asked if I'd like to sample some of their snacks. Why, yes, I said, I'd love to, and I received a nice package of 4 tasty snacks for review. Before I get to the snack I'm going to review today, I would encourage my readers to check out Candy-san's web site. If you've been looking for a place to locate Japanese snacks at a reasonable price, they've got you covered. I can say this because I've been shopping for such snacks at Japanese markets in Northern California and their prices are competitive with those I've been paying. For example, I bought the Ujimatcha KitKat for $2.19 at Nijiya. Candy-san carries it for $2.03. Most, if not all, of their prices are lower than what I'm paying in shops and their selection is broader, so I hope you'll give them a look. Of course, my treats come gratis so I'm bound to be sweet on them anyway, but that doesn't negate the fact that their prices are lower than what I'm paying at various shops (and believe me, I'm buying the cheapest stuff I can find). 


Getting to the matter at hand, the "horohorone chocola almond" thingy, it was not what I expected from a cursory inspection of the box. I thought it was going to be some sort of crispy shell with a nutty chocolate center. it turns out that it is a tender, floury biscuit which is soft as a cloud hiding a delectable soft almond chocolate interior. The center has just the barest hint of crunchy almonds, but that doesn't matter because its the super soft and rich center which makes it great. It's like gianduja, only with almonds instead of hazelnuts. It is reminiscent of Nutella (and hazelnut paste is an ingredient) but with an almond twist and no pesky need to spread it on something or guiltily lick it straight off the spoon as is the case with Nutella. The flavor of the filling is rich and deep and will leave a lingering taste of nutty chocolate on the back of your tongue.

These are a rare treat in that they are old things that are put together in a new way. I've had soft cookies. I've had this type of filling. I've had almonds. However, I've never quite had anything like these soft little balls of biscuit with a creamy filling. They feel like they melt in your mouth, but also have some enough heft to have a textural hit which satisfies. They're unique, but still quite approachable for foreign palates. 

There are 8 of these to a box, and each is about 40 calories. As far as I know, you can only get these via importers like Candy-san as I have not seen them in local Asian markets. If you're a fan of Nutella or gianduja, I'd absolutely recommend giving these a try.


Friday, July 20, 2012

Turron de Jijona


The Simpsons once did an episode about Springfield's lemon tree being stolen by some of the residents of Shelbyville. Jebediah Springfiled and his followers planted a lemon tree because it was the sweetest fruit available at the time. This show was about small town rivalry, something which I grew up with and am truly familiar with. When your world is small, you tend to attach significance to stupid things because you're not worldly enough to realize their insignificance. At the end of the episode, the Springfield mob steals back their lemon tree and they all enjoy a glass of lemonade as the Shelbyville denizens have a glass of turnip juice, because that was likely the only thing they had available at the time.

The reason I mention this is that so much of our food culture is about what is available at this time. The Moors, while occupying the Iberian Peninsula, sat around thinking about how they'd like to satisfy their sweet tooths (sweet teeth?). Unfortunately, they'd just conquered an area which was lacking in sesame seeds so getting their chefs to whip up some halva was rather tricky. Since they'd pretty much finished with taking over the Iberian peninsula, they put on their thinking caps and thought about what to do. Fortunately, Marcona almonds were close at hand and they decided to make halva out of it. Voila, turron was born.*

I never saw halva for sale when I was living in Japan, nor did I see turron. In fact, one of the first things I picked up at an American convenience store was a pistachio halva bar because I had been reading about it and wanted to try it. It was sticky, hard, and slightly bitter and I was not a fan. However, when my sister-in-law asked if I wanted anything from Spain when she visited there, I checked out traditional Spanish sweets and came across turron. She brought me back this box.


There are many types of turron and you can find them in various ethnic markets as well as available online. One type is like a nut brittle. This one is like an enormous wet slab of chalky nut butter. When you open the box, there's a sealed packet with lots of what looks like unpleasant meat juices swimming between the clear plastic and shiny plastic. It looks insanely nasty. 

Undoubtedly, turron de jijona is hard to handle because it is slightly soft, tends to break off in soggy clumps, and has a lot of wetness around it. That being said, it's worth the mess. It's a rich, sweet mass of almond butter mixed with honey. Turron de jijona is a form of nougat, so it is made with egg whites, sometimes raw ones, but I'm sure any packaged stuff that you buy is safe. I've had pistachio halva before and this was much, much better both in terms of texture and flavor. The halva I bought (from a convenience store in a package like a candy bar) was bitter and hard, like taffy. This was soft, melt in your mouth fatty, sweet but not too sweet, rich, almond, nougat and honey delight. There really aren't enough positive adjectives for how much I liked this.

In Japan, most of the nut-based sweets were made with peanuts or sesame, because that must be what they have on hand. In Spain, many things contain almonds. Fortunately, neither one of these countries ended up with "a cool glass of turnip juice". They both had lemons and made lemonade in their food cultures.


*I made most of this up. I don't think thinking caps existed back then.

Wednesday, July 20, 2011

Sanko Seika Almond Chips Sembei


As no one may have noted, I haven't been reviewing as much sembei (rice crackers) as I once did. It turns out that once you run the gamut of most of the common flavors, they tend to come out in reruns or reissues. That doesn't mean I still don't like them or eat them, but just that I don't find review-worthy fodder as often as I once did. Since these reviews get fewer comments than nearly any other type, I don't imagine there are armies of sembei afficionados out there weeping into their empty chip bowl at the dearth of rice cracker reviews.

When I chanced upon these, I got that old spark of excitement about trying something new. OK, I'll be honest, it's a pretty small spark as I get less juiced about sembei than say chocolates or baked goods, but this does carry two flavors which I adore: almond and black sesame. Let's face it, there are only so many fires that can burn within one at the idea of a cracker... unless she has the soul of a parrot... but let's not even go there.

Doing this review had me looking back over my experiences with Sanko Seika's offerings and it's a mixed bag. They make my absolute favorite sembei of all time, but a lot of their other options left me shrugging my shoulders. A lot of what I've had from them is interesting concepts and flavors that somehow didn't work out for my taste buds in the end for various reasons and received indifferent ratings.


Though the name is "almond chips", the black sesame is the shining star and dominates the cracker's flavor profile. There are 4 single-serving packets in the bag and each is 88 calories and contains 8 crackers of about 4 cm. (1.6 in.) in diameter. I paid about 150 yen ($1.90) for these at Seiyu supermarket. They are shiny and super crispy with a very satisfying texture. That varnished look is a clue to something about the taste though. These are very sweet and include dextrin, stevia and cocoa powder. I didn't expect them to be so sweet and was really hoping for something closer to a salty or savory sweet.

These aren't bad in any way. I liked them, but I wouldn't buy them again. If they cut the sweetness factor by about 50% and let more of the almond shine through in taste (I didn't taste it at all), I think these might be a repeat buy. As it is, I would only recommend them to someone who likes chips that are sweet without a sugary overtone. It turns out that this falls into the same pile as many of my other reviews of Sanka Seika's sembei. I give them an "A" for effort, and won't avoid their products in the future, but I'll keep my expectations appropriately low.


Tuesday, May 10, 2011

Omai Oh!tsumami Pasta Snack


I'm probably one of two or three people in Asia right now who does not really care for noodles of any kind, which is rather a shame since I'm surrounded by ramen shops emanating the most delicious scents from pork bone broth. It could have something to do with the fact that I'm a world class food dropper and it's a struggle to get through a day's eating without dropping a portion of my meal onto my shirt. No matter how careful I am, it appears that I am incapable of keeping my food balanced on whatever utensil I am using to shove it into my mouth.

Considering the wet and unwieldy nature of pasta, my consumption of it is tempting fate to the very limit. If I can't manage to eat a forkful of rice without allowing it to plummet to my shirt, one can only imagine the stain patterns I could create when trying to eat noodles. It's not really the taste of noodles that is the issue, nor even really the texture, but perhaps my own lack of grace when eating it, or at least that's what I thought.


I purchased this "pasta" snack (168 yen/$2.06) with the firm belief that there is really nothing "pasta" about it. If you look at the pictures on the package, it looks like square crackers (true), almonds (true) and spiral crackers (not true). It appears that the maker, Denroku, wants to infuse the spiral crackers with something which resembles pasta and the spiral deals have a starchy uncooked pasta thing going on.

The main flavor of the mix is cheese and tomato sauce. The packaging calls this "pizza tomato" flavor, and it does remind me of the shakers full of "pizza spice" that used to be on offer at really bad pizza shops in the small town that I grew up in. We had to have those shakers of pizza flavoring to flavor the slabs of styrofoam-like pre-made crusts slathered with humdrum sauce and liberally topped with low quality mozzarella cheese. The badness of that pizza was awesome, and I find myself craving it on occasion even now.

Each little packet is only 18 grams (.63 oz.) and 92 calories. It's a tiny amount (as you can see by the picture of the bowl higher up), but should satisfy the need for a small salty snack. My response to this is mixed. I found it quite tasty except for that starchy flavor on the spirals. I love almonds and I enjoyed the flavor, but I think I might go for something else rather than this in the future. That being said, if this stays on the market, I could see picking it up on occasion when I had a hankering for that pizza seasoning that I knew in my youth.

Thursday, May 5, 2011

Meiji Kaki No Tane Almond Crunch


Back home, people seem intent upon sullying the awesome power of chocolate by mixing in all sorts of weirdness with it including chili powder and bacon. As a former fan (in my misspent youth) of hot, salty French fries dipped in cool creamy chocolate milk shakes, I can conceptualize the appeal of mixing savory or spicy elements with chocolate. However, I really don't find the idea of chili in chocolate appealing.

Despite that, I did finally give in and buy these Meiji chocolate-covered almonds. The outside chocolate coating is mixed with crushed spicy rice crackers (kaki no tane). Since chili is sometimes mixed with chocolate, the general concept behind these (heat with sweetness) isn't entirely alien, but still a little off the beaten path.


When I opened the foil packet, I was surprised at how unappetizing the chocolates looked. Meiji makes incredibly good and polished-looking chocolate-covered nuts. They're one of my favorite snacks in Japan and really help you get through a long day at the office when you need an energy boost. These look like something your dog might leave behind after a bout with a corn cob.

The almonds are encased in a thin wafer and then chocolate mixed with crushed spicy rice crackers. If you hold the chocolate on your tongue, you taste a bit of the salty rice flavor of the kaki no tane, but if you just bite into it, you mainly get the almond flavor mixed with chocolate and something odd. If you didn't know what it was, you'd probably be hard-pressed to guess. On the bright side, the almond is crunchy and fried and has a strong flavor. On the not so bright side, the kaki no tane really isn't doing much for this except adding texture and diluting the potency of the usually excellent chocolate and adding a not unpleasant but not really tasty weirdness of the experience.

I've seen these on sale everywhere for quite some time. The retail price is close to 200 yen ($2.46) but I waited for a discounted price (148 yen/$1.82). I don't think they are selling particularly well based on the sale patterns and the volume that remains in shops. This could be because they simply aren't in any way better than the plain chocolate-covered almonds or that they are unappetizing in appearance and Japanese folks are known for valuing how food looks. Either way, though these are far from bad and I'll slowly finish the box, I wouldn't buy them again.

Monday, September 13, 2010

Natori Fish Almond Mix


There are a lot of disgusting looking dried up seafood snacks in Japan which I have always sworn I would not touch with the proverbial 10-foot pole... then I started doing this blog and got the bright idea of doing reviews of the weirder things which I have shied away from. I figured that I could stretch my palate a little and push the boundaries of what I'll eat, at least a little.

While perusing all of the odder looking bits, I considered the leathery bits of octopus and the stringy bits of eel. Knowing I don't like those types of seafood at all convinced me that trying them would be a pointless exercise in handing out "very unhappy" ratings. I decided that I would try the omnipresent dried fish snacks because, though I'm not a fan of fish, I don't hate it. At the very least, it might be "so-so", and this version with almonds might go down a bit more easily because they're my favorite nut.

You can find dried fish snacks nearly everywhere in Japan. They are particularly popular as otsumami or snacks marketed to be consumed with beverages (and alcoholic ones in particular). I got this at Lawson 100 shop for 100 yen ($1.17). It's a 24 gram (.85 oz.) bag and the entire thing has 126 calories and 9.3 grams of protein. These are pretty healthy, and I was once told by a student that this was the only snack she was allowed to eat as a child because she had bad teeth and her mother didn't want her eating anything with sugar. 


I was all fine on an intellectual level to try these for review, and then I poured them onto a tissue to take a picture before eating. Seeing the little heads that had broken free, and the bits of internal organs through their dried out transparent bodies started to really turn my stomach. It's not eating fish that is the problem so much as eating every little bit of the fish. I had some serious second thoughts about my choice. At least the squid cheese strings don't look like squid, and the dried out octopus bits are chopped up and don't have eyes and veins. I was really regretting this choice.

I didn't even want to touch them, but I rounded up a few fish and a few almonds, closed my eyes, and put them in my mouth. Unsurprisingly, it tasted super fishy with only the slightest hint of almond. They aren't very salty, but there was a hint of sweetness. This is no surprise since the third ingredient is actually sugar (the first is almonds, and the second, sardines or "iwashi"/いわし). There are also sesame seeds studding the little dried up corpses, but the fish taste is so overpowering that the seeds and nuts flavors are largely drowned out.

This wasn't horrible, but it wasn't great. If I were starving to death and had to eat these, it wouldn't be the end of the world, but I can't see enjoying it casually as a snack or craving it. It is intensely fishy, and there is something peculiar about sugar and fish as a combination. I'll admit that I took one bite and threw the rest away, but that's mostly because looking at them made me queasy. I could have forced down the rest, but I saw no reason to do so.

If you'd like to share your experiences with weird foods and enter a contest for a chance to win a silly prize, please read this post and make a comment.

Tuesday, August 24, 2010

Sanko Seika Cheese Almond Sembei

Yeah, I took the picture awhile ago. I didn't eat expired sembei!

If you visit sites frequented by food snobs, they'd have you believe that we can will ourselves to enjoy "good" food, and that those who dislike a particular food can learn to enjoy it. I would say that is probably true, but the same can be said of junk food. I never thought I'd like something which is made with processed cheese, but I've found that frequent exposure has opened me up to its dubious qualities.

These particular sembei have been around for decades in Japan. I've always rejected them because of the way in which the almond seems glued onto the cracker with a plastic-looking dollop of processed cheese. Years of roasted almond deprivation due to the high cost of them in Japan and the relative rarity of any but blanched varieties compelled me to give these a try.


You can buy this particular type of sembei almost anywhere because it is relatively ubiquitous. I got mine at Okashi no Machioka for about 150 yen ($1.76), but I've also seen them at 100-yen shops so you can get them in a wide range of prices. Each bag has 24 tiny little crackers about the size of a quarter or 100-yen coin. At only 14 calories a cracker, you can eat quite a few without waistline worries. It also helps that the almonds are delivering some protein and good fats to balance out the carbohydrates in the cracker.

These smell like all of their major components: processed cheese, almond and sembei. The texture is good with the crispy rice cracker with a crunchy almond and a soft dollop of processed cheese. The mix is really quite satisfying. The almond's flavor is enhanced by being roasted and the cheese feels cool on the tongue. The flavor is also very mixed with a little bit of soy sauce flavor on the rice cracker, a bit of the processed cheese flavor, and a lot of almond. The almond shines more strongly the more you eat and the cheese fades into the background.

If you regard processed cheese as an evil to be avoided in all its forms, you won't like these. Otherwise, I can't recommend them strongly enough. I really liked these and have bought 3 bags at various times already. If I didn't have so much junk around to eat at any given time, I'd try and keep a bag of these on hand most of the time for light snacking with soft drinks. The mix of cheesy flavor with almond and salty sembei is a great combination.

Thursday, June 3, 2010

KitKat Bitter Almond


This KitKat has to be one of the weirdest cross-promotions I've ever witnessed in Japan. The bar is TBC, Tokyo Beauty Clinic, crossed with a KitKat. I'm not sure what KitKats have to do with beauty. I'd think they'd be more closely linked to weight gain and pimples than beauty.  Somehow though, we're supposed to see a link between a place that gives facials, removes body hair, and does body shaping and a candy bar. The advertising blurb for this indicates that this flavor combination is supposed to appeal to women, though it isn't calorie-reduced as many products marketed toward them are. It's 99 calories for one two-finger packet which is average for a regular size KitKat. Note that there is a mini bar which is flavored with aloe and yogurt that is also a part of this campaign. I'll be reviewing that bar in the near future.


This smells quite good. There's a stronger cocoa element to the aroma because of the dark chocolate. As promised in the name, this is bittersweet chocolate, which a heavier emphasis on the "bitter". The almonds are rather faint and tend not to be very present in terms of flavor. They do seem to have a bit of a mitigating effect on the bitterness and there is a little bit of a nut butter flavor in the filling between the wafers.


The box says that this bar is 44% cacao, so it has an intense flavor, but it's not as oppressive as some dark chocolate can be. It's not very sweet either. I enjoyed it, but I'm a big fan of almonds and wish that they had played a much bigger role in the taste. That being said, if you don't like overly sweet bars and also do not like very bitter dark chocolate, this could be the bar for you. It's tasty and the texture is enhanced both by the wafers and the almonds pieces. This bar was released on May 31, so it should be around for awhile. You can get it for the( higher than usual for a KitKat) price of 130 yen ($1.41) at most big name convenience stores now.

Thursday, May 13, 2010

Kanro Almond Sweets


Most nuts in Japan cost a great deal. You can generally buy rather small packets of them for about 100 yen ($1.07) at convenience stores, but they tend to be of a less than favorable grade. Because of this, you find that nuts are used rather sparingly here, and blanched or heavily roasted (but unsalted) peanuts are the most common type of nut. Almonds, which are my favorite nut, in particular are hard to come by and pricey.

Given my love of almonds, I was happy to pick up these sweets at AM/PM convenience store for somewhere in the ballpark of 200 yen ($2.15). I forgot to get a receipt so I've lost track of the precise cost. The bag is 80 grams (2.8 oz.), which was about 22 candies. They are made by Kanro, which is better known for its Puré gummy candies and Calpis-based offerings than for it's vast selection of hard candies.


These candies smelled of roasted almonds, and even though they look very hard, they easily shatter when you bite down on one. The texture is wonderfully crunchy, though the size is so small that it doesn't take much to polish one off. Their small size is reflected in the calorie count of 14 calories per candy. You can't detect them in the flavor, but one of the ingredients is "corn puffs". I'm guessing that is to enhance texture without having to include more expensive almonds.

The candy tastes both of nicely roasted almonds and of carmelized sugar. The combination is very gratifying though rather fleeting. It's easy to find yourself wanting to eat one after another. Note that these are wrapped rather loosely in gold foil packets. If you keep them around long enough, there is every chance that they'll get moist. Most hard candies in Japan are sold in sealed packets to avoid this problem in their humid sub-tropical climate.

I really enjoyed these, and I'd definitely buy them again if I could trust myself not to lose control and eat half a bag at one sitting. Though I really liked the texture, part of me wished that they were something you could suck on first, but they disintegrate too rapidly.

Thursday, March 25, 2010

Glico Almond Chew


The picture of the Glico man printed on the back of my small box of almond chews is very tiny. The normal details of an illustration of a man running with arms raised as he crosses the finish line now appear to be a naked man censored with three white blobs with the characters for gu-ri-ko written on them. It's nice to see that even the most innocent and wholesome of corporate mascots can be perverted if the mind viewing it is dirty enough.

Here's a bit of trivia for you about Glico. Though it is well-known abroad for making Pocky, it's first product was a caramel made from glycogen. The company's name comes from that ingredient. Ironically, caramels are nowhere to be seen on their web site's main attractions.

I'd been seeing this box of almond chews in Okashi no Machioka for a very long time. It's one of the things which is always on offer in the section with kid's candy and old-fashioned candy. The standard size box is 18 chews and similar to the plethora of caramel and chewy candies you find in Japan, but I didn't want to get such a big box considering it takes me about a month to consume all of it and once the plastic outer wrapping is removed, the chews (or caramels) get moist and icky before I can finish them. Recently, a smaller box was for sale for 49 yen (54 cents) so I snapped it up and took the plunge.


There are 10 chews in the small box that I bought. Each is individually wrapped in wax paper and they're 19 calories per chew. The size is about 2 cm x 1.6 cm x 1 cm (.8 in. x .6 in. x .4 in.), so they're not very big. You can see cross sections of almonds in every chew, though the density of nuts is not all that high.

The candy smells like nut candy. It's like a much fainter versions of what you smell when you open a box of nut brittle. The flavor is an interesting balance between sweetness, nuttiness, and subtle caramel flavor. It's not overly buttery, nor heavily sweetened. The nut flavor does not come through exceptionally strongly either, but it all comes together to create a unique flavor mixture and texture that doesn't overstate any of the components.

I didn't think much of these when I ate the first one, but then I wanted another, and another. I quickly found myself wanting not to stop so clearly these are rather addicting. One caveat I offer is the fact that these are much harder to eat when quite cold. It's important to get them at least to room temperature

Wednesday, December 23, 2009

Kameida Seika Almond Fried Sembei


Have you ever eaten something for the first time and you could swear that you've eaten something very much like it before, but you can't work out what it is? Well, that's how I felt when I ate this sembei. It wasn't that I have eaten sembei like it before, but I believe I've had some sort of snack food which is roughly similar to it. The annoying thing is that I can't remember what it was. It's going to keep bugging me until I remember.


I'd been eyeballing this bag of almond sembei for quite some time. The calorie counts for each 25 gram bag (.88 oz.) bag put me off a bit. It is 133 calories for a pretty small-looking portion. That being said, when I dumped the contents out for picture taking, it didn't seem quite as bad as I thought it would be (entire contents of one bag pictured below). Any time nuts are a large component of some food, there is a boost in fat. In the case of these, there are 7.1 grams of fat per serving (and 3.1 grams of protein).


This sembei mix actually contains both almonds and peanuts. The peanuts are whole and coated in some sort of crispy shell which is strangely sweet. They resemble honey-roasted nuts without the honey flavor. Note that I believe they are sweetened with maltitol as well as sugar (both are ingredients). The sembei pieces are the thing that reminds me of something else. The closest food I can liken them to are sesame sticks with a nuttiness from almonds instead of sesame. They're super crispy, as are the nuts, and don't have that usual rice cracker taste or smell. In fact, when you sniff the mix, you smell peanuts.

These were good, but the peanut part is far too sweet and the almond component overwhelmed by the peanut flavor. It's not a bad mix at all, and I will easily finish the remaining 5 packets of the 6 in the entire bag. Frankly speaking, I prefer saltier nut flavors rather than sweet. These were also slightly expensive at the supermarket I picked them up in at 260 yen ($2.93) and I can't see going for them again. Someone with different tastes than me might really like them. They're definitely well-made, fresh, and offer depth of flavor, but just not my cup of tea.

Wednesday, November 18, 2009

Caritz Corn Potage Pretzel Snacks


Caritz (カリッ) means "crisp" in Japanese and I have to give this snack credit for truth in advertising on that front. These things are crisp. The naming seizes on the one aspect which cannot be denied. It also says "oishii" which means "delicious" and this is a big, fat lie, at least in the case of these corn potage flavor ones.

Caritz are almost certainly a low rent rip-off of Cratz brand pretzel snacks by Glico. Both of them are small nubbins of flavored pretzel mixed with nuts. The big differences are that Cratz cost about 60% more, has more nuts in the mix, and tastes good. I paid 100 yen for Caritz at a local 99 yen shop because I was hoping it was going to be a cheaper alternative to Cratz (which I love in all of its forms), and you know what people say about getting what you pay for.


When I opened the bag of Caritz, it didn't smell right. In fact, it had an odd powdered milk mixed with rancid powdered cheese smell. Corn potage is a soup which is made with corn, milk, onion, and garlic. It's made with a chicken soup stock base. All of those flavors seem to be listed in the ingredients, but I didn't taste them. I only tasted whatever the cheese component of these is with a relatively weak corn flavor. The pretzels themselves also seem off. They're hard, but in a way that is closer to a bad crouton than a good pretzel. Dense pretzels can be good, but these weren't.

Perhaps I got a bad bag of these, but this was a truly disappointing experience. It's rare for a salted snack food to be so unappealing to me when it contains a lot of flavors which I like. There is just something about the powdered flavoring that hit me completely wrong and I definitely wouldn't buy these again. In fact, I'm so put off by this flavor of Caritz that I'm unlikely to try the other flavors unless I'm really bored or willing to take a risk.

Thursday, October 1, 2009

Tirol Sweet Halloween Variety Box

Have you ever seen a more adorable or happy-looking skeleton?

I love bright, vivid, clean graphics. Even if I wasn't keen on the candy in this Tirol Halloween box, I'd want to buy it for the bold, clean look. You may not be able to tell from the picture, but parts of the box (the ghost and other creatures and the trees) are perforated so they can be popped up and the box can be used as a little Halloween decoration or display. As it turned out, my husband picked this up at New Days convenience store (for about 210 yen or $2), so the choice wasn't really in my hands.


This is the second of these bright, attractive boxes that I've reviewed (though there have been at least several others which I've passed on). The other one was the W Purin one, and it was actually quite good. I have much lower expectations of these flavors because 3 of them are repeats of flavors that have appeared in less slick variety packs in the past (and 1 was a former 'Premium' candy), and I have reviewed 2 of them before.


The 4 flavors are conveniently written in English: coffee nougat, almond, pumpkin tart, and "milk". Each candy is between 30-35 calories for its 2.25 cm (.9 in) square x 1 cm (.4 in.) tall size. Here are the reviews of each flavor:

coffee nougat:


This smells like milk chocolate even after it has been cut apart to reveal the firm nougat center. At first, you get the milk chocolate flavor, which is your average Japanese milk chocolate (which is to say, on the bittersweet side). The chewy coffee center comes in at the end very strongly when all of the chocolate has melted away and you chew on the toffee-like coffee center. The coffee flavor is similar to fairly decent quality instant coffee and not too strong. I wouldn't necessarily crave this, but I wouldn't mind it either. It wouldn't compel me to buy a box, but I'd certainly eat the ones that came with a variety pack as they are enjoyable enough for the calories.

chocolate almond:


This is the same almond as is included in other variety packs. Since I liked it before, I still like it now. It smells like milk chocolate or cocoa powder. It tastes like pretty decent milk chocolate with a super crispy deeply roasted and crunchy almond. There's a nice mix of almond and chocolate flavor but a bit of a bitter aftertaste from the chocolate.

Milk:


This is a milk chocolate shell with a "cream" filling according to the package description. One of the ingredients is "cream powder", but it doesn't taste much like cream and is similar to actual milk. There's an unusual taste to it, and I believe it is mirin (Japanese sweet cooking rice wine). It's a very milk influence, but it gives it a light liquor flavor. This is pretty good, though rather sweet. Some may find the mirin flavor off-putting or odd though.

Pumpkin:


When I reviewed the premium version of the pumpkin Tirol, it had the same pumpkin coating and cookie center, but it didn't have the "soy sauce" that this has on it. I mentioned in the former review that I thought the pumpkin needed some other seasoning to offset the sense of it being a very sweet squash flavor. It seems Tirol agreed since they added this sauce to the latest incarnation. The variety pack versions are usually smaller, but also simpler than the premium ones, so this sauce was a surprise. Soy sauce in candies often tastes a lot like maple syrup. It is thickened and sweetened and this seems to turn it from soy- and salt-flavored to maple syrup-like. This was good, but my least favorite of the bunch. It still seems like sweetened squash to me, but at least this has an added dimension.

This is a nice collection, and I really love the size of these. I like to have just a bite or two of something sweet after lunch and one of these generally does the trick without making me feel overly full or like I've just piled on more calories on top of lunch. This is a more desirable combination of flavors without any stinkers in the bunch than some of the other variety packs I've sampled. I'd definitely buy this again if it came around next year for Halloween. I only wish that I could find a reason to preserve the box and wrappers because they're insanely cute Halloween graphics.