Nongshim Banana Kick Snack

I've often thought that it would be cool to work for the art department of a snack company. You can come up with all sorts of kooky mascots for equally kookily (not actually a word, I know) named products. I'm sure someone sat around frowning in concentration to come up with a banana that is kicking into the air at an invisible soccer ball when pondering this bag's design.

The "genuis" of this design isn't the anthropomorphic 'nana. No, that was easy. The hard part was deciding his attire, and, I'm sure, if he might have been a scandalously nekkid banana. I'm sure there was much more frowning and thinking as the designer came up with a little word association to think of what to do besides put on a flirtatious and energetic-looking banana. You could imagine him saying, "hmmm... hmmm... (though likely he said "hmmm..." in Korean since this is a Korean product)... bananas... banana split... banana boat... banana peel... bananas shake... bananas and... bananas and monkeys! Yes, who doesn't associate monkeys and bananas? So, we've got a monkey. Why would a banana hang out with a monkey? Well, he must be on safari. Yay! Ideao acquired!

Now that I've gone through the sophisticated creative process, I'm far less certain of the cool factor of working in the art department of a snack company. Perhaps it would be better to design the flavors or food varieties, but that's a post for another time. I've procrastinated long enough and it's time to talk about the actual food contained within the bag.

I bought these because, frankly, they sounded awful. I picked them up at a Korean market for about a dollar and I did it because it was too strange not to. It's not strange because it's banana, but rather because it's a banana salted snack puff. We don't tend to put fruit flavors on our puffs here, so this seemed like a chance to try something quite different.

I assumed this would be sweet, and I'm not exactly a stranger to sweet corn puffs after living in Japan for awhile. It is sweet and has a strong, but not particularly fake, banana flavor. The puffs themselves are super light and crispy. I've had this bag sitting around for more than 2 months, but it stayed fresh (shockingly). That being said, the date was July 11, 2014, so I beat the expiration. Of course, it was sealed.

The banana aspect of these reminds me a great deal of the type of banana chips that are shellacked with sugar on the outside and that people eat because they are supposed to be healthy. There is also an undercurrent of basic corn puff flavor. This could be a cereal, except that it is sweeter than even something like Cap'n Crunch.

The first ingredient in this is corn flour followed by sugar, rice bran oil, banana powder, palm oil, skim milk powder, artificial flavor, salt, lactose, egg white powder, and turmeric (no doubt for color). It's no shock that these are so sweet given that sugar is second on the list. They are surprisingly not so fattening. The entire bag (45 grams or about 1.5 oz.) is only 190 calories. For a salty treat, that's not bad.

These are not bad really, but it is too sweet for my tastes. I was never a fan of banana chips in general, but I could see this really appealing to someone who loves them. Not only does it tastes like them, but these are more fun to eat due to the light texture. They're very close to being something I like, but ultimately, just too sweet to merit a "happy" rating.

Random Picture #213

Recently, I was talking about Asian bakeries with my sister-in-law. We were talking mainly about a chain called "Paris Baguette" which has a French-sounding name, but is actually Asian and has a focus on Japanese- and Korean-style offerings. Of course, when I talk about baking and Japan, I really mean the European-style confections that Japan has modified for its market's tastes.

One of the things which Japan modified for its tastes was flan, or, if you prefer, pudding, or, even "creme brulee" without the burnt top. I've always been confused about whether this should be called one or the other. As you can see by the side view, this is essentially flan. It has a sweet syrup on the bottom and a thick pudding in the center. Personally, the point at which flan and pudding are separated comes at how thick they are. Flan can stand on its own, though it may wobble a bit. Pudding tends to be a bit more gooey and needs a container to support it. At any rate, the plastic containers of "purin" that you see here were in a supermarket in Tokyo and they have whipped cream as well as chestnut puree (the ones on the right). The ones on the left are "fruit purin", but the curious thing about them is that they have a mini purin on top of the larger purin. It feels like one of those mirror within a mirror deals, only with food.

Kirin Salty Lychee Drink (product information)

Kirin is doing some sort of promotion in which they talk about the combination of fruit and salt. I am very aware that salt can do a lot of things for various dishes, including boost the sweetness level of various types of fruit (watermelon in particular) as well as add complexity to chocolate and other types of sweets. However, for me, adding salt to a beverage with a sweet base turns it into something resembling an isotonic drink (like Gatorade). This is not what I sign up for when I buy a (hopefully) refreshing bottle beverage.

The inspiration for this is supposed to come from Thailand where pickled lychee beverages with salt are supposed to be a mother-made tradition. I get that information from Kirin, so I don't know if it is true. At any rate, each bottle apparently has a tiny little mother preparing a drink in a miniature kitchen for you so there must be some truth to it.

Kirin recommends some "recipes" if you buy this elixir. They say you can ice it up and crush a bit of mint into it, make ice cubes out of it and eat them, or mix them with seasonal frozen fruit to make a "punch". To me, no matter how you mix it, this has disaster written all over it, but then I'm not one for salty beverages.

Frutabella Bananada Cremosa

When I hear a word with "cream" or even "creme" as part of the name, I expect, well, rich, fatty, white goodness. What I don't expect is a brown turd-like object which clearly has nothing to do with skimming the fat off of fresh milk. Life is just full of surprises. They're not necessarily happy ones that inspire giddy, girlish glee, but they are technically "surprises" in that they find you totally off-guard.

My husband picked up this object at the Portuguese deli and market at which I found my Brazilian Pez. He saw "banana" and decided this was of interest to him. I saw "cremosa" and thought it might be of interest to me. It ended up that we were both wrong. This food-like item is of no interest to either of us, though we did gamely give it a try despite its resemblance to bodily waste.

It should be noted that I don't speak Portuguese, though I did study a little Spanish and they're like cousins to one another. However, that really didn't help much in this case because "cremosa" means "creamy" and that was simply a big, fat lie. Even if I understood perfectly, I still would have been mislead.

Be honest. Your first thought was, "who forgot to flush!"

What this is is a wad of sugary fruit puree that has enough cohesion to not smoosh into a smattering of paste, but is still very pliable. It's more grainy than "creamy", though I have to say that it probably is about as "creamy" as pureed banana mixed with sugar and potassium sorbate is going to get. The flavor is strange in that brown sugar dominates. The "banana" aspect mainly comes through as a sour, nearly rotten banana taste at the end of each bite. On the bright side, and in what I see as the only sunny side of this, the dusting crunchy sugary coating on the outside adds an interesting textural element to the banana goo. If nothing else, this product reinforces my already strong sense that Japan isn't the only place where they sell weird food.

This is a profoundly weird thing, which I'm sure is supposed to be health because it's fruit and only 92 calories for a blob about the length of my thumb. The web site for this product talks about how bananas have great nutritional benefits as does potassium. I agree with their logic, but not with the monstrosity they've created from a perfectly good banana. I say, stick to a real banana and give this mass of fruit paste a miss.

Botan Rice Candy

One of my favorite candies in Japan was Bontan Ame. This candy, which resembles fruit jelly candies, is widely available in Japan and considered rather old-fashioned. One of the main features is that it comes with an edible wrapper to protect your fingers from getting too sticky off of the gummy/jelly-like candy. They are covered in a type of material which is frequently used on capsules used for medicine.

The first thing I noticed was that the edible wrapper on this is a much more pleasant experience than the one you get with bontan ame. Where bontan ame turns a bit glue-like and melts a little slowly, this dissolves fast and is hardly noticeable. I always was anxious for the wrapper to get out of my way with the Japanese candies, but I hardly noticed it here. The second point I noticed was that the flavor is much more orange-like than bontan ame. The outside is also slightly crispy, though not really hard. As it warms up, it gets softer and chewier. It's sweet, but not overwhelmingly so and has a pleasant flavor in general tinged with a bit of a floury aftertaste. I imagine this comes from the cornstarch. The flavorings include both lemon and orange.

I loved this and could see eating an entire box in one sitting without hesitation. One box is only 80 calories, but it is also only 6 small pieces. With the price being about $2 (240 yen) per box in American markets (I've seen it in several), this is a financial indulgence. Since a box with 14 pieces of a similar size can be bought in Japan for a mere 100 yen ($1.20), I can't help but feel that this is exorbitantly priced. Of course, you do get a children's sticker which says "printed in Japan" on it, but I hardly think that is worth the extra cost.

The interesting thing for me about experiencing this candy is that it is an import to America from Japan. That explains, at least in part, why it's so expensive since labor costs in Japan are hardly cheap. That being said, I don't understand why Japanese bontan ame has orderly little cubes stacked in the box such that you can get 14 in it and this has a helter skelter sampling of 6 bits with plastic wrapping. Do Americans demand the extra wrapping at the expense of volume? It seems hardly likely.

The company that imports these is called JFC International, and they are responsible for a wide variety of Asian food distribution world-wide. Their web site indicates that they handle over 15,000 products and some of the most popular ones are Japanese. This is no surprise since Japanese cuisine is positively regarded worldwide, and a lot of what might be seen as "exotic" flavors 20 years ago are available even in some remote areas. I was surprised to find tonkatsu sauce in the small rural area I lived on in the San Juan islands, for example. Personally, I'm hoping to get a line on the oil-less sesame dressing that is featured on their front page at present. I used to buy that in Japan all of the time and loved it.

I would definitely buy these again, but not at Safeway supermarket where I paid too much. I would, however, order a 12-pack for $9.51 at Amazon. It's still more expensive than Bontan Ame in Japan because it is a smaller portion, but at least it drops below a dollar a box. I would caution those who know the Japanese domestic product that this is a little sweeter and lacking in the hint of sourness. It's not overpoweringly sweet, but clearly these are not the same formula as Bontan Ame. They're still good though, and I recommend giving them a try.

Random Picture #77

The Simpsons rather famously made the idea that Japan has square watermelons common knowledge. The thing is, I've lived in Japan for 22 years and I had never seen them in the flesh before. There may be some marketplace in the posher areas of Tokyo which routinely offers these melons, which are normal melons grown into this shape by growing them into a particular vessel. However, the idea that vendors on the streets are offering them or that the Japanese routinely buy them (which one might conclude from the Simpsons clip... and isn't popular culture our great educator?) is very far from the truth. I saw my first square watermelon in Japan earlier this week. It was a tiny little thing, about the size of a big grapefruit and kept in a protective acrylic box. Needless to say, it was not for sale but merely there to gain attention. So, if you are planning a trip to Japan and hoping to buy yourself a novelty melon, you might want to think again. Most of them are the round pedestrian variety.

Pepsi Caribbean Gold

I'd read that this was going to be released on July 26 and dutifully went out to the local Family Mart to procure one. It is part of the snack reviewer's oath that one must sample high profile novelty releases ASAP. It's the same credo that says weight gain "for the cause" is to be seen as a noble expansion... taking one, two, or even three for the team is just part of the job. Incidentally, that job is currently paying about 35 cents a post and could be offering better compensation for the risks. Those risks can be quite considerable at times, believe me.

Despite my best efforts (which means I went to three different convenience stores) to procure this beverage the day of its release, Pepsi apparently was not in the mood to cooperate. I didn't find it until the 27th and found it while I was working and couldn't review it. But, here it is, Pepsi's latest attempt to capture our hearts and imaginations with a brew containing an obscure fruit that no one has ever heard of so they can't tell if it tastes like what it's supposed to or not.

A sniff of the freshly opened bottle reveals a vague fruity scent which reminds me of gum balls that I used to get from those machines that you put a coin into then crank three times for a disappointingly small number of balls. The taste on the first sip was very weak and it wasn't until a second sip that it revealed some syrupy fruity notes. This does taste like Pepsi mixed with something different, though it is hard to pin down what. The Wikipedia page for white sapote says that it can range in flavor and can taste like banana, peach, pear, vanilla, or just not much at all. I'd say that of those options, the Pepsi has vague peach and vanilla flavors, but it's really not a fair description.

At 47 calories per 100 ml. (that's 235 calories for the entire bottle), this would have to blow me away to be worth drinking it all. It really just struck me as a lighter version of Pepsi without the caramel colors and with lower acidity and with a hint of something fruity of some sort. It's pretty good tasting, but in no way worth pursuing beyond a casual purchase out of curiosity. Pepsi's variations when they are palatable seem pretty weak and when they are weird are pretty nasty. I probably won't even finish the bottle because I'd be just as happy with a Coke Zero and to be spared the sugar load.

Random Picture #72

Click for a bigger picture. Note that many of these are yogurt and fruit combos, though all of them have so much sugar in them that they can hardly be considered healthy for such inclusions.

Displays of gelatin (what is called "jelly") in Japan are being beefed up because of the hotter than hell summer and weaker than a new-born kitten air conditioning. At first, I thought this might be all about fooling people into thinking tossing one of these tubs in the refrigerator and gulping down a slithery bit of gelatin coolness would make them forget that they'd sweated an embarrassing huge web spot on their shirts, but I'm starting to believe otherwise. The shops themselves aren't exactly showering us with cool relief which means that their chocolate stores have a good chance of melting in 82 degree F./28 degree C. settings. It's far safer to stock jellies than to stock other sorts of sweets in the summer.

Lotte Frutio Gum

I've written before that I'm not a big consumer of gum, but that has since changed. I'm not sure why, but now I find myself subscribing to "Chewing Magazine" and wanting to walk around my neighborhood like a well-mannered cow working its cud. This image can be further enhanced by the fact that chewing sugar-free gum (especially that made with Xylitol) has some unfortunate side effects that may contribute to global warming. I realize that may provide an insanely sexy image for some of my male readers, but I hope the fact that I'm 46 will keep your hormones in check.

You'll note that at the top of the plastic canister with this gum, it says "Plus X". That isn't some secret ingredient. It's the flatulence-inducing Xylitol which is supposed to be good for teeth. We may all be going around leaving smelly vapor trails, but we won't have any cavities!

You can buy Frutio gum pretty much anywhere in Japan, though these larger plastic versions are usually only at supermarkets and snack shops. In convenience stores, you can generally get packs of individual flavors. I won't buy these plastic micro-buckets unless they're deeply discounted to about 399 yen ($4.76) or less. I got this one at Okashi no Machioka snack shop for that price, but I see these at markets for around 600 yen ($7.16) quite often.

There are three flavors and a pad of Post-it notepaper in the canister. The paper is to put your chewed gum in so that it won't stick to someone's shoe or the side of your trash can. The flavors are juicy lemon, juicy grape and juicy apple. Each has a nice candy shell surrounding its gum interior and all are so small that you'll likely need two pieces to feel you've got enough to work with.

The apple is the  most artificial tasting of the bunch, as is so commonly the case with green apple flavors. It's not bad, but definitely my least favorite. The lemon is the nicest with a good strong tang and somewhat authentic lemon flavor. The grape is pretty standard fake grape, but I liked it. The flavor lasted about 10 minutes tops on each of these, but that still puts them a cut above a lot of the gum in Japan.

The thing which makes me like Frutio (and I've bought it at least 3 times already) is that it isn't a mix of "mint" and fruit which is so often the case in Japan. The flavors are pure (fake) fruit rather than something which resembles toothpaste spread on a slice of fruit. Clearly, I'll buy this again, but only if it is on sale.

Kracie Man Banana

Doing a rough translation of the name of the this product, which literally is "man banana" (男バナナ), I realize there is an unintentional implication there. If you're expecting something remotely phallic, you're in for an incredibly big disappointment. I think that a better translation would be "banana man", but where's the fun in that?

This product seems to have been inspired by the episode of The Simpsons in which Homer decides to get in shape and climb "The Murderhorn". While he's getting in shape, he tells his wife, Marge, that he will only eat food in bar form in order to release its awesome power so he takes two pounds of spaghetti and compresses it into a bar which he eats and then calls the hospital. This candy is trying to release the awesomeness of bananas, raisins, and mangoes by compressing them into little 30-calorie cubes of chewy candy.

My husband found this candy at NewDays convenience store and was drawn to the banana aspect of it. If it weren't for him, I wouldn't be reviewing this since I'm not a big fan of banana snacks. That being said, he ate one piece of this and then never went back for more. To him, it tasted like nothing more than hyper-concentrated banana. This is no surprise since it is 90% fruit. A sniff tells you that banana is definitely the main component, but I could also taste the raisin's telltale sweetness and strong over-ripened flavor.

This candy is not your typical soft chew. It's rather more like a block of dried fruit/fruit leather. It's a little difficult to bite off a bit, but not exactly tough. Because it doesn't have much except fruit, dextrin and gelatin, you can get some idea of what it might be like to eat.

This reminded me a bit of eating banana chips without the added sweetness or crunchiness. It wasn't bad, but I am not the biggest fan of dried fruit flavors. To me, a lot of the value of fruit is in its moist real textures, not in hyper-concentrating those flavors by drying them out and squashing them. Though this isn't bad, I can't help but give it an "unhappy" rating because neither my husband nor I will eat the remaining 4 pieces of the 6 piece pack. Fans of dried fruit may feel otherwise, but I would really rather eat an actual banana than eat something like this.

Pepsi Baobab

Recently, I was having a conversation with the student who gave me the wasabi KitKats that I reviewed yesterday, and she and I were talking about how there is a difference in the American and Japanese market for snacks. She asked why I believe companies like Pepsi released oddball flavors like Pepsi Shiso, Pepsi White, Pepsi Adzuki and this (at the time upcoming release) Pepsi Baobab.

I can't know for certain, but I think the Japanese market places a higher premium on novelty than the American one. We want new favorites and they want flavors of the month. Generally, I think the Japanese market wants to "taste and forget" more than Americans do (which is the only nationality I'm even remotely qualified to speak for), but I do think that these wild Pepsi flavor choices are mainly for media attention and a way of building the Pepsi brand as one that is distinct from Coca-Cola. Coke has held the market longer than Pepsi, so they have a chance with these exotic drinks to distinguish themselves.

Pepsi Baobab has one of the loveliest label designs and is a nice golden colored liquid. The design is meant to reflect the origin (Africa) of baobab, the fruit that is supposedly the basis for this drink. I had somewhat better expectations of this exotic Japanese Pepsi blend than I have had of some of the others because I think that fruit, particularly one that is known for having a lot of vitamin C (which means it may be "citrusy" in flavor) lends itself well to carbonated drinks.

When I opened the bottle and inhaled, I smelled something which is reminiscent of grapefruit. The soda on the front of the tongue doesn't taste like much at all, but as it hits the back of your mouth, it does seem to have a sweet orange with grapefruit undertones flavor. It has a dry finish, which I think may be the "Pepsi" element. The flavor is quite pleasant, but I rarely drink beverages with sugar, so this seemed a little too rich and syrupy for me. That being said, if this were available in a sugar-free version, I'd buy it regularly as a change of pace from my usual Coke Zero consumption. The flavor is light, pleasant, and like a citrus blend. It is especially nice as a summer beverage. The "grapefruit" aspect is all of the goodness without any of the bitterness. The "orange" tones are related mainly to the sweetness. This was pretty decently carbonated and had a proper "burn" while drinking it.

A 500 ml. bottle of Pepsi Baobab, currently available in all of the big name convenience stores in Japan for about 150 yen ($1.66), has 42 calories per 100 ml. That means drinking the whole bottle is 210 calories. Note that this was released today, so it should be around for awhile. I do recommend that people give it a try. This is actually pretty good, and by leaps and bounds the best oddball Japanese Pepsi flavor so far.

There's an interesting little article on baobab as a "super fruit" from the BBC here if you're interested in further reading.

This is also reviewed at The Impulsive Buy.

Mixed Juice KitKat (mini)

I vowed some time ago to stop buying bags of KitKat minis in order to review them. Most of them are simply not worth having such a large quantity of and it takes forever for me to eat them. With summer coming on fast (as it always does in Tokyo), I have to keep chocolate in the refrigerator or risk it melting away. I decided that I'd only try these oddball flavors if I could find a single mini on sale at a convenience store. This tends to end up with me trolling all of my local "conbini" for single minis on sale, and mainly failing. Frankly, I wish Nestlé Japan would either stop selling things in big bags of mini bars or improve their distribution of lone minis in convenience stores. It'd sure make my life easier.

During the Golden Week holiday, a week with a string of national holidays in early May, my husband and I took a very long walk and stumbled upon a 7-11 that had the mixed juice mini that one of my commenters had told me about. One bar was about 40 yen (44 cents), I think. The truth is that I didn't save the receipt or pay much attention. I was just glad to find a single mini on sale somewhere and opened my wallet and tossed money on the counter. I had also seen this reviewed, rather unfavorably, on Jen's KitKat blog. My expectations were appropriately low.

This smelled rather "fruity" in the way that I remember children's "tootie fruitie" types of candies when I was a kid. It's like an indistinguishable mishmash of fake fruits. I think that Juicy Fruit gum has a not dissimilar scent, though the intensity of the aroma coming from this bar was far less than with that gum.

The first taste of this was of apple. Note that the wrapper doesn't show apple, and Nestlé Japan's web site says that the flavors are peach, strawberry and banana. They also indicate that this is "fresh and sweet" and ideal for family get togethers during Golden Week.

The second flavor was banana. I really didn't detect anything else except rather sweet white chocolate. The ingredients list doesn't reveal anything about the fruit used in this, but it does let you know that the orange coloring comes courtesy of paprika. Note that there is no calorie information on my package, but I'm guessing this is in the 65-70 calorie range, as is often the case with mini bars.

This wasn't bad, and I kind of enjoyed the fruitiness of it in a nostalgic way. It isn't the sort of thing that I'd like to eat again and again, but it was an interesting sampling. If you're pretty open-minded about sweet white chocolate and fruity flavors (particularly fake ones), you might enjoy a nibble of this. I definitely wouldn't recommend buying a big bag unless you're sharing with your office or friends. The bottom line is that I don't regret having a few bites of this, but I wouldn't buy it again.

Asahi C's Case Fruit Nodo Ame

The Japanese market is nothing if not flooded with well-meaning products that are meant to improve your health through candy and cookies. The two big nutritional supplements are foods with Calcium or Vitamin C. For quite some time, Asahi has offered a little plastic container with tiny lemon-flavored pellets called "C's Case". Since its original inception, the brand has branched out to many products including drinks and these throat drops.

I found these at Summit supermarket in an area adjacent to my neighborhood. If you don't think that is a sacrifice, keep in mind that I had to listen to their inane ditty singing "once a week at Summit" (sung in English, no less) about a million times during my short shopping journey. They cost 198 yen ($2.13) for a 79-gram (2.8 oz.) bag. There were about 20 drops in the bag. Each candy is 9.2 calories and sugarless. Summit carried an array of sugar-free hard candies that I had never seen in my local markets so I snapped up three bags of them. You'll see the other reviews in the future at some point. I insist on sugar-free for something that I'm going to be keeping in my mouth for a prolonged period of time. My teeth really don't need a long, luxurious sugar bath, even when my throat wants something to keep it from going dry.

There are three flavors - peach, grape, and orange. I don't ask much of this type of candy except that it be sugarless and preferably have some edge to the flavor. Fruit candy is best when it has a nice little citrus bite. Here is the breakdown of these candies.

Grape: This is like the grape lollipops that you got from the doctor when you were a child (and when you were lucky that he had grape and not some gross flavor like lime), only lamer. This reminds me of when I was a child and put my lollipops in water in order to see what the water would taste like when they dissolved into it. This tastes a bit like that water. It's not bad, but it's not much of anything.

Peach: Fortunately, peach was a more flavorful offering. It was intense and had a little mouth-puckering sourness in the background. It did taste of artificial sweetener, but that's a price you pay for sugar-free candy. It actually did taste like peach, fake peach, but at least it was what you might expect.

Orange: This was my favorite of the three. If I could get a bag of only orange, I'd be happier with the whole package. The orange flavor is your classic fake candy flavor. It also had just a bit of an herbal, almost medicinal edge. One of the ingredients is "herbal extract", and I'm guessing it is only used in the orange or is most potent in this drop. 

The interesting thing about the nutrition information on this is that they tell you the numbers for the entire bag rather than each candy, as if you're going to put away the whole thing. In the 20 candies, there are 3000 mg of vitamin C (in the entire bag), .82 mg. Vitamin B, 2.7 micrograms of B12, .29 mg. of B1, .65 mg of B2, and 4.3 mg. Vitamin E. To get all of those good things, you've got to deal with Sucralose, Aspartame, and Acesulfame K.

I liked these just fine, but I wasn't crazy over them. They're definitely the sort of thing I would turn to if I had a cold and wanted to suck on something for a sore throat and give myself some extra C along for the ride. I find it hard to assign a rating because I can't say I enjoyed these enough to revisit them without a cold motivating me to do so, but I would definitely get them again if I was infected. I'm wondering if Asahi should use that as part of their marketing campaign.

Dekopon

There has been much talk in the U.S. over the last several years about why poor people suffer from obesity more than richer ones. Some people have speculated that part of the reason for this is that healthy food is so much more expensive than junk. I haven't lived in America for a long time, so it's hard for me to speak about costs in the U.S. anymore, but I can say that it is definitely the case that healthy food is more expensive than junk in Japan.

I had seen dekopon (デコポン) for years in Japanese markets, but wasn't inclined to buy some unknown fruit because of the high cost of fruit here. The average apple, orange or pear (or similar fruit) is generally available for 100-250 ($1.10-$2.76) yen per piece. I bought this dekopon for an average of 120 yen ($1.33) per orange as part of a pack of four. Suffice it to say, I would have tried these a long time ago if I had ever been given them as a gift. Dekopon are not like persimmons, mikan or natsu mikan in Japan, which are often given away for free.

You can tell a dekpon by it's "outie" style navel (as opposed to the "innie" style of a navel orange). That being said, not all dekopon have this outward navel. In the package I bought, the top one was the only one with an extended navel on it. The other three were positioned to explicitly hide the fact that they didn't have the trademark protrusion. I guess they know people prefer to buy the ones that look like a proper dekopon so they hide the unfortunate ones that don't fit the profile. It's this sort of experience which casts doubt on the touted custom of "kodawari" (perfectionism) when it comes to food. Clearly, this was not packaged with perfection in mind, but rather to hide its imperfections.

The distinguishing feature of dekopon as a citrus fruit is supposed to be its sweetness. The fruit are picked and left to age to lower the acid and increase the sweetness level. Because of this, sometimes the skin on dekopon looks a little worse for wear. Since I'm not a particular fan of very acidic fruit (and this is why I generally don't care for oranges), I thought I might give these a try and see if they really were more palatable to me than the average orange.

I've purchased and consumed about 12 dekopon prior to writing this review (they are currently "in season" and are generally available between December and April) and I can say that they are sweeter than navel oranges, though they aren't "very sweet" as the Wikipedia entry would lead one to believe. I really enjoy them and would definitely buy them again and again as they show up seasonally. Note that they have a nice taste which is similar to an orange or tangerine, but they don't have much of a fragrance. I don't think the peel would be good for anything (cooking, potpourri).

If you see these oranges with the "outie" navel at a fruit market in Japan, I'd recommend giving them a try despite the slightly high cost. That being said, I will warn you that, as has been said on Seinfeld, "fruit is a gamble." Just because I've had a dozen of these and they were all fairly sweet, you can have sour ones. I follow a blog called "It Will Stop Raining" and its author has said that she's had some exceptionally sour ones. Also, be forewarned that some California oranges that look like small dekopon (but are not this variety) are often sold at the same time as dekopon so you'll need to check the katakana characters and make sure they match the ones in the picture at the top of this post.

Kokunaisan Yuzukawa Candied Yuzu

I've sampled plenty of yuzu treats up to this point, but haven't eaten anything which contains much more than a speck of real fruit. Considering my enthusiasm for all things yuzu thus far, I jumped at the chance to sample this candied yuzu when I found it at Seiyu supermarket for about 120 yen ($1.33).

For those who don't remember or know, yuzu is a Japanese citrus fruit which tastes like a cross between a lemon and a grapefruit. It has the sour notes of lemon and some of the bitter notes of grapefruit. This makes it ideal for candying. It's no surprise then that the second ingredient, after yuzu peel, is sugar. Despite this, this 35 gram (1.2 oz.) bag only has 124 calories, so you don't have to feel too guilty about eating it all in one go.



I don't know if this is supposed to be marketed as a health food or not, but I do believe it's supposed to be a nutritious snack. It has vitamin C added to it, which is fairly common in Japan for many snacks as both Calcium and C are not abundant in traditional Japanese cuisine. There is a fair number of little firm bits of candied rind in the bag. They don't smell like much individually, but the whole bag takes on their citrus scent.

Unsurprisingly, they taste like yuzu, which is to say a little bitter and a little sour. The bitterness is a bit more prominent than the sourness and the sweetness level is pretty spot-on. It's just enough to balance the harsher flavors. The texture is pretty much as you'd expect for this kind of thing. They're solid, but easy to bite through. They're not as chewy as dried fruit because of the candying.

I really liked these, though clearly they don't fall into the category of a candy or salty treat in terms of the pleasure one can extract from them. If you enjoy fruit snacks and want something different, I'd recommend giving this a try. I wouldn't hesitate to buy it again, though I have to say that I'd have to be in the right mood to eat it.

Pure Orange Gummy Candy

Note: Blogger appears to have eaten the pictures for this post, and I'm afraid I no longer have the originals so the best I can do is a screenshot of the product from Kanro's site. Sorry about that!

One of the bad points about writing this blog is that I rarely get a chance to return to the items I sincerely enjoyed. There's only so much junk you can eat, and despite my liberal sampling of various sweets, I am trying to be very careful about how much food of suspect nutritional value that I consume. Most of the time, I'm eating small portions and letting my husband finish the rest or eating the remainder through time.

I really like the Pure line of gummy sweets. I've only had the blueberry kind that I reviewed last October once or twice since then, even though I liked it a lot. There are a several other flavors, but none of them grabbed me enough to place trying them at the head of a long line of other curious foods until I saw these navel orange gummies. I hate oranges, but I love orange-flavored things. This is one of those rare occasions where I dislike the real fruit and like things flavored like it. Generally, it's the other way around (especially for bananas and strawberries).

These gummies, brought to us by Kanro, are sprinkled in the same sort of pixie dust coating as all the other Pure gummies. The coating is a sort of citric acid powder combined with what seems to be sugar. It adds a certain tart and sweet quality to the candy. The candies are clean to hold and firm, but soft and easy to bite into.

These taste just like orange juice. There's a strong hit of navel orange flavor. The sourness seems to ramp up the intensity of the sweetness. My husband says he finds these super sweet, but I find them merely super intense in the best possible way. I could easily eat the entire bag in one imprudent sitting, but I try to keep consumption down to no more than three 12-calorie jellies per day. Interestingly, there is paprika included as an ingredient in these, but you can't taste it at all. It's clearly included for color only.

All of the Pure gummies that I've seen are in 46 gram (1.6 oz.) bags for about a dollar (100 yen), but I think there are probably other sizes out there. If you'd like to see the array of flavors available at any given time, you can visit the Pure Pure Garden web site. It's in Japanese, but if you click on the pictures of the bags at the bottom, the illustrations of the fruit make it clear what types you can get.

There are few snacks I've had of which I can say I'd want to continue to buy them when I return to the U.S. This is one of them. I just love that sour and sweet mix with the real fruit flavor of these gummies.

Fujiya Mix Nectar

Back when I sampled Fujiya's Peach Nectar, one of the commenters asked me if there were other of this type of beverages. At that time, I hadn't encountered any other varieties. Unbeknown to me, Fujiya's fruit alchemists ("fruitologists") had been laboring in the laboratories perfecting new nectar concoctions. I'm guessing that they have enslaved legions of hummingbirds as guinea pigs for the quality of their nectar. Any day now, I expect PETA's Japan chapter to protest Fujiya's headquarters and insist on setting the tiny birds free.


This "mix" variety was released in February this year, but distribution seems to have been limited to certain markets. I found this for about a dollar (100 yen) at Seiyu supermarket. The size is smaller than the peach nectar, which comes in a 12 oz. (350 ml.) can. This is a small carton with 200 ml. (8.8 oz.). There's a straw strapped on to the back and a foil-covered hole on the top which you can use to violate the carton and suck out its sweet contents. Like the peach version, this also contains 30% fruit puree and a decent amount of sugar. The fruits included are peaches, apples, mangoes, bitter orange, orange, banana, and pineapple.

The juice doesn't have much of a strong scent, but if you inhale deeply, it smells like a generic fruit mix. The taste is like a fruit bowl in your mouth. It hits you all at once and most of the fruit can be detected in different sips. The apple is the easiest to pick out, but all of the other fruits are present as well. The banana seems to hit you last. The main difference between this and the peach is that the peach is smooth and sweet all the way through and this has some of the sour notes of pineapple and citrus in it.

This is very, very nice. I prefer the peach version to Fujiya's Nectar drinks, but if I didn't have the option of drinking the peach and was in the mood for some sweet, high quality fruit juice, I wouldn't hesitate to pick this up. Note that there is one more nectar flavor, mango, which was also released in late February of this year which I have not seen on any local shelves yet.

Natsu Mikan

One of my students gave me three of these ugly customers from a tree in her yard. She told me that she had copious amounts of them and that I could have more if I liked them. They were called "summer oranges" or "natsu mikan". Apparently, this type of fruit is very popular for people to plant in the gardens they plant at their residences.

I must say that these smell really great. Like the golden oranges that I reviewed previously, they don't have a distinctive smell, but rather a mixed citrus smell. I could pick out an orange, lemon or grapefruit by their distinctive scents, but I couldn't easily identify one of these. Each orange is about the size of a small grapefruit or a large orange. The color is that of a dirty lemon with a few orange areas.


When I asked my student to describe the taste, she said they were very sour and advised me to cut it in half and either pack the top with sugar or honey and leave it on a counter or in the refrigerator overnight to allow it to absorb the sugar. I mentioned that this sounded a lot like a grapefruit and she said that these were more bitter and sour than grapefruit. While I do like the flavor of grapefruit in jelly sweets or citrus blends, I don't like to eat real grapefruit.

This did not bode well for the likes of me because I don't take well to bitter flavors. Some people can develop a taste for them, and heaven knows I've tried, but my sense of taste in regard to bitter things is extremely acute. In general, most people can't tolerate bitter flavors because a lot of bitter plants are poisonous. Hating them is something which has helped our species survive just as loving sweet things has done so (and made us all a bit curvier).

I did as my student recommended and packed the top of one half with sugar and left it in the refrigerator overnight. The next day, I dug into a section with a spoon. Suffice it to say, I didn't take to it at all. It was okay where the sugar was absolutely packed on, but even the areas which were moderately saturated with sweetness weren't enough to make this palatable. One bite and I had to toss it away.

I think people who eat a morning bit of grapefruit might enjoy this, though even they might be hard-pressed to eat it regularly. My student told me a lot of people like to use these to make things like marmalade, but I'm not a fan of that either. At best, I'm thinking these could be made into some sort of potpourri or scented oil, but I can't recommend buying them or even much more than sampling them if you get one for free.

Japanese "Golden Oranges"

Fruit in Tokyo is fairly expensive save for a few items like bananas. Even they are only "cheap" by comparison to things like apples which range from about a dollar to up to $3.00 each. Therefore, I am not an adventurous purchaser of fruit. I tend to buy only what I'm sure I like because the risk of investing in bad fruit is simply not worth it. I also grew up in a household where one did not waste the smallest amount of food so the idea of tossing out perfectly good food, which I merely find unpalatable, rubs me the wrong way.

For this reason, Japanese fresh fruit, which is a favored snack of mine, doesn't show up very often for review. Mainly, I'm reviewing it only when it is given to me by Japanese friends, acquaintances or students. Also, a lot of the sorts of things that are not common abroad aren't available in shops anyway. Most of them are regional and you only get them when a distant friend of a friend in Tokyo tries to unload a large portion of their overflowing harvest.


One of my students was given a large portion of Japanese golden oranges by a coworker and she fobbed some off on me. She didn't tell me the Japanese name and my research didn't turn it up. Searches turned up the Japanese equivalent of loquats, kumquats, and fortunella, but none of those was correct. Trying to find the Japanese name of something when you only have a vague description in English, particularly when the fruit is uncommon or unavailable in other countries is a tough feat to pull off.

Each of these oranges is quite small, about the size of a tangerine (or mikan in Japan). The color of the skin is orange-yellow rather than the sunny yellow of a lemon. They smell incredible, like a citrus blend. I didn't use the peel for anything, but I imagine the potential is there for tea, potpourri or even baking using the rind.


The fruit inside is lighter than an orange and it separates easily from the relatively thick skin. The pith sticks like a second flesh where it sticks rather than as stringy bits like in a conventional orange. The taste is like a cross between an orange and a grapefruit without any of the grapefruit bitterness. It was really quite refreshing and tasty. It's not too sweet, but not sour or bitter.

Though I love citrus flavors in cooking or juice, I don't tend to eat the fruit itself very often because I don't like the texture or the acid. These would win out easily over a navel orange (that is, a "regular" orange), but I'd still be more likely to buy Japanese tangerines (mikan) rather than these golden oranges. If they were cheap or if I got them as a gift again, I'd certainly welcome having them again and would definitely recommend sampling them.

Mikan Fruit from an 8,000 Year-Old Tree

Mikan is a variety of mandarin orange that is grown and quite popular in Japan, but originated in China. It's very popular in the winter and is used as part of a traditional decoration (kagami mochi), topping two balls of mochi (rice cake). Around this time of year, they are cheap and available everywhere. I'm pretty sure that most people don't actually have to buy them as they seem to be given away in great quantity. The particular mikan I'm going to write about today were given to me as part of a "first meeting of the new year" gift.

Very few snacks are more common in Japan in winter than mikan. Japanese folks have been known to just sit around the kotatsu (a low heated table) and eat whole bags of them. They're small and relatively mild for a citrus fruit. They're smaller and less fragrant than oranges and less acidic. Usually, they're a little sweet, but there are variations in both juice content and sweetness levels.

Three mikan for size comparison. The biggest one is average in size. The tiny one is about the size of a crab apple or 1.5 strawberries.

The area of Japan most famous for mikan growing is Wakayama and the mikan I was given are from that area. I was actually given two types. Some of them are somewhat smaller than average and the others are absolutely tiny. The tiny ones are the special ones. They were supposedly grown on an 8,000 year old tree in Wakayama or from one of the trees that sprouted from its fallen branches.

How does the fruit of an 8,000 year-old tree taste compared to that of those of a lesser pedigree? It tastes pretty darn good. Of the three mikan above, the tiny one has the least pith and is the sweetest. The largest one has the most pith, is slightly sour, and is the least juicy. (It was not among the fruit I was given as a gift, but part of a bag I bought at a 99 yen shop for comparison.)

The Japanese tend to make a big deal out of the origin of produce or various dishes and how certain foods are a specialty of one area or company or another. I always think that's a bit silly, but I must say that these are very nice little pieces of fruit. I don't know what they cost if you have to buy them, but I'm told you can only buy them at Sembikiya fruit shop in Ginza if you're shopping for them in Tokyo. I'm betting they're not cheap.