Ginbis Tabekko Animal Biscuits

Attentive readers with an impeccable memory may recall that Ginbis is the maker of "asparagus biscuits", which don't actually contain asparagus. According to their web site, this is the company's "long seller" and it has recently been revamped (likely just the packaging). Of course, this is their long selling "biscuit" and the asparagus biscuits are the long-selling "stick biscuits". This is a little like talking about the best "long hairstyle" and best "semi-long hairstyle".

At any rate, this is part of a small collection of kid's cookies that are on offer. In the U.S., we'd call this "animal crackers", but these are actually rather different in composition. They are thinner, crispier, and much, much more flavorful. Like the asparagus biscuits, they are flavored richly with sesame seeds and are slightly greasy. The  main difference is that they don't have the same level of browning and don't carry a certain "over-baked" flavor. They're also rather salty on the outside, which is an interesting choice for crackers designed specifically for children. That being said, the salt really works on these, as do all of the other flavors.

Yes, there are important words to be learned in English.

Note that these are "educational" snacks. Each cookie has the name of the animal it depicts in English and the back of the box has Japanese and English for each animal. It's actually not a bad idea, but I somehow doubt kids are picking up much English from this considering the fact that the shapes are pretty general and don't clearly depict the animals they represent. There are 46 animals named on the back of the box, and I counted 46 crackers in my box. I didn't check, but I wouldn't be surprised if one of each named animal was represented. That would be one of those attentive to details types of things a Japanese manufacturer would do. 

I got these with my Peacock Fukubukuro, so I didn't pay for them individually. I've seen them at many supermarkets. This is a fairly big box at 63 grams (2.2 oz.), and I'd guess that it costs around 150 yen ($1.83) given the size, though it could cost closer to 200 yen ($2.43). I calculated each is about 8 calories. The whole box is 344 calories and says that 12 is a serving with 80 calories. Their calculations don't really jive but I think it's not worth sweating whether these are roughly 7 or 8 each. 

I really liked these. They were like the version of the asparagus biscuits that I would have liked. These are clearly the same basic formula or dough just pressed, shaped and baked differently and it makes a difference. The flat little crackers have a nicer texture and they aren't too dark. I'd definitely buy these again. They make a great and flavorful tea time snack and you can eat quite a lot of them without overdoing the calories.

Kabaya Chocolat Galette

There are so many refugees from my New Year's fukubukuro to review that I'm not likely to need to buy much of anything to review for at least a month. And there are so many of them that I'm going to be eating them for at least 3 months. These "chocolat galette" cookies were one of the first things that I tore open and partook of because they are chocolate, and, they are cookies. I'm only human, after all.

Despite carrying two of the key elements of a good product, I have to say that I would not have bought these of my own initiative had I seen them in the store. The primary reason is that these sorts of individually wrapped cookies are a real crap shoot in terms of flavor. Many of them taste like crispy bits of nothingness. They don't deliver on flavor so much as on appearance and texture. This is especially true of crispy cookies that come in the "Chips Ahoy" mold. That is, the types that are crisp and have some sort of melted chocolate poured on them or chocolate chips.

I expected a waxy, nearly tasteless chocolate coating and a bland cookie interior, but was pleasantly surprised to find that these have a very nice, pleasantly deep without being too bitter chocolate flavor and they are not too sweet. The cookies also taste fresh and have excellent snap without being too brittle. Each cookie is rather small though, at only 4.5 cm (1.8 in.), but only 49 calories. I'm torn between the guilt I feel at creating so much trash for a tiny morsel of pleasure and how effectively these preserve the cookie goodness and encourage portion control.

Though very tasty, these do contain two types of "bad fats" (margarine and shortening). Looking at the ingredients, I believe the flavor is enhanced by the inclusion of almond powder and at least a bit more cocoa than usual. I'm sure that you can find these in many supermarkets, but I'm afraid that I didn't make an effort to price this bag of just 8 cookies (yes, and small). I'd be surprised though if they cost less than 160 yen ($1.94) or more than 220 yen ($2.67).

On the flavor alone, I'd recommend these. On the other aspects, I'm a little torn. I enjoyed them thoroughly, so I'm giving them a happy rating, but I'd say that considering the packaging, likely price, and small quantity, I wouldn't recommend them to anyone unless they were jonesing pretty hard for a crispy chocolate cookie.

Pino Sweet Potato Ice Cream

Pino is a bit of an institution in Japan and yet I think this is only the second time that I have purchased it in my 22 years in Japan. The basic version is vanilla ice cream with a chocolate shell, but like a standard ice cream bar back home. Because this is Japan, and the people stay tiny by making it easy to eat tiny portions, the folks behind Pino (that would be confectionery mega-maker, Morinaga) took the basic bar idea and created tiny little bon-bons that you can spear on a plastic toothpick.

While this idea may sound quite simple, Morinaga appears to have applied some careful considerations to the product design. They're the sort of formula touches that you wouldn't consider unless you bought the product, tried to eat it, and had some messy problems. For instance, a chocolate coating which is too hard will shatter when you spear the bon-bon with the plastic spear, so the coating can't get too brittle when frozen. The ice cream also cannot become so hard that you have a lot of problems penetrating it with the pick. Both of these were surprisingly not an issue when I sampled this sweet potato Pino. Though the ice cream gets pretty firm, the shell only fractures around the insertion point and you don't have to fight too hard to stab the heart of it so you can deliver it to your waiting mouth.

The odd thing about this particular Pino is that it is labeled "Dessert". It makes me wonder how the other varieties are conceptualized. Aren't they all "dessert" or do the fine folks at Morinaga think the other versions are meal varieties? At any rate, the coating on this is labeled as "chocolate" but it is actually also sweet-potato-flavored and slightly purple in color. The interior is slightly yellow to help emulate the coloring of a typical Japanese sweet potato.

The flavor is quite sweet and there is a strong element of sweet potato that borders on, but doesn't go over the edge of overbearing. I detected a "baked" flavor which I strongly associate with sweet potato cakes (one of which is pictured on the box cover) and found that to be quite surprising. That must be a tricky element to include. I also thought there might be a hint of cinnamon, but my taste buds may have been deceiving me. The ice cream is fairly average. In fact, I've had creamier ice milk, but that doesn't make this in any way unacceptable as mass-produced ice cream. Since you get 6 (10 ml.) bon-bons per box for a mere 100 yen ($1.20), you can't really expect the ice cream to blow off your socks. It is good, just not fantastic.

I don't buy much ice cream because I am afraid I'll either gobble it all down or leave it to develop a thick layer of freezer burn in an effort to save myself from its caloric load, but I really should sample more Pino as each bon-bon is only 32 calories and portion control is so easy. This was good, but a bit too sweet in general for me. That being said, I'd probably buy it again if it is seasonally re-released in autumn/winter of next year. I just can't see buying it too terribly often.

Kirin Nuda Cooling Grapefruit

You have to admire Kirin's testicular fortitude and not because they named this drink "Nuda". Using anything that implies nudity actually takes no balls whatsoever because even a hint of sex sells more products. No, I think it's pretty gutsy of them to sell a "cooling" beverage in the winter time in a country where most of the people (especially the women) have the heat-retention capacity of those in the reptile family. The last thing people in Japan want when the temperature drops below 82 degrees F. (28 degrees C.) is anything which is "cooling".

The Nuda brand has been around for awhile, but this is my first sampling of it. I like grapefruit flavored food and drink, but not actual grapefruit. Oh, I have tried to get into eating the real deal but I just never saw the point in smothering something in sugar in order to make it palatable. I figure that, if I'm going to go for a large amount of sugar, I might as well eat a donut and stop fooling myself into thinking I'm eating something healthy because it was plucked from a vine before being saturation bombed with sucrose.

The  point of the "Nuda" line has nothing to do with supple naked bodies but rather with offering up light refreshment with bubbles. The basic "Nuda" is clear sparkling water and this is the same with a hint of grapefruit flavor. I found it for 87 yen ($1.06) at Seiyu supermarket. The question wasn't going to be about how well this bowled me over but rather about how they worked with the grapefruit flavor. Since this is just a flavored sparkling water, one can't expect too much.

When you unscrew the cap, you can smell a light grapefruit flavor. The water itself is carbonated adequately. You can really sense the bubbles if you hold it in your mouth for a few seconds before swallowing. I rather like this because I like the burn you can get from carbonated beverages. The grapefruit flavor is just enough to be detectable, but not enough to overwhelm. It is quite a good balance because the flavor is there, but there's absolutely no bitterness.

Kirin recommends their sparkling waters as office refreshment. Their ads hint that this will perk you up in meetings, brainstorming sessions, etc. I think that's expecting a bit too much from carbonated water. Nonetheless, this is good sparkling water and if you are inclined to go with bottled water, this is no more expensive than plain water and a nicer experience. I'd certainly buy it again if I were out and about and wanted some water and if it were available and it definitely beats club soda, which has always had a funky taste to me.

Iwatsuka Soy Sauce and Nori Sembei

Readers who follow the trends of what I review may have noticed that there was a time when I was reviewing pretty much one type of rice cracker (sembei) a week and that lately the frequency of such reviews has dropped greatly. This isn't because I got far fewer comments on the sembei reviews than any other type or that I perceived that they were of the lowest interest to most of my readers, though frankly I believe that is true. It is because I'd pretty much sampled most of what I wanted to and wasn't going to start buying things of dubious interest (particularly shrimp-flavored crackers) for the sake of keeping up the appearance of having an interest in sembei. I'm not a sembei poser, after all.

The only reason this is being reviewed is that it was included in the supermarket fukubukuro that I bought. This isn't the sort of thing I tend to gravitate toward though I also won't recoil from it in horror. The little flecks of nori (seaweed paper) tend to turn me off. It isn't because I hate seaweed, but rather because it can be too strong a flavor and I'm not that great a fan of the sense that I'm gnawing on chlorophyll. Since you can never predict how intense the grassiness is going to be when you have a snack with seaweed, it's easier just to pass, especially when the choice is to buy such a big bag.

It turns out that these are actually pretty mild on the seweed and have a nice savory flavor influenced mainly by soy sauce, but also by bonito (which is used for Japanese fish soup stock). None of the flavors are pronounced or individual but they tend to all come together in one mild savory mix which isn't too grassy, fishy, or salty. There are 14 two-packs in this big bag, and two crackers are 46 calories. This makes them an excellent option for a quick salty snack treat.

I was surprised that I liked these as much as I did, and I'd certainly consider getting them again. The main problem for me is that these types of "traditionally" flavored rice crackers carry a particular scent that my husband finds very off-putting so I can only eat them when he's not around. If your mate doesn't mind such things, I'd say give these a try. Since I got mine as part of my New Year's grab bag, I can't say for certain what the price is, but I'd guess they are between 180-240 yen per bag and can be had at a supermarket.

Meiji Pucca Sweet Potato Cookies

Seeing Pucca cookies always reminds me of venerable Goldfish crackers in the United States. It appears that we enjoy eating cookies and crackers in the shapes of certain animals more than others. Actually, I know that probably isn't true. The most likely reason that fish are a shape of choice is that they require very little detail to convey what they are. If you've seen really cheap animal crackers, you're already aware that many of the giraffes, gazelles, and even monkeys come out as little more than amorphous blobs.

I've had very favorable experiences with Pucca before, but I was somewhat wary of a sweet potato version. While I've had plenty of good sweet potato treats in Japan, anything which tends to run on the sweeter side is a bit of a "risk" in that the manufacturers tend to either use a puree which is far too intense and has at least a hint of rotting sweet potato. Pucca tend to be better balanced, but this is a combination which is easy to get wrong.

Like all Pucca, the exterior is a dry pretzel shell without salt injected with a chocolate-based filling through a little hole in the bottom (sort of a belly button for the fish). It has a nice contrasting depth of flavor which usually betrays some earthy rye flour flavors. In this incarnation, I couldn't detect the usual rye notes because the filling's flavor is quite intense. That being said, it is intense in a way which is not so overbearing as to make it unpleasant. This is strong and sweet, but still good.

Each little cookie is 11 calories, and given how intense they are, I was satisfied with just 3 or so at a time. I'm not sure how I'd feel about these if I were to eat a lot of them at once. I tend to think I'd enjoy them less at greater volume. Among the Pucca flavors that I have tried, this is definitely my least favorite, but I'd still eat them again. However, given the slow rate at which I'm consuming the current box, they're likely to disappear as a seasonal treat before I have the chance to buy more. If you're new to Pucca, I'd still say go for the original version with chocolate filling, but if you're an old hand at these flavors and want to try something new, these might bring a smile to your face.

You can find these pretty much anywhere at the moment and they're generally only 100 yen ($1.20) per box for 46 grams (1.6 oz.). However, most sweet potato treats are seasonal and vanish by spring so you'll want to try them sooner rather than later. I'd be surprised if these were around past next April or May.

If you'd like to download some desktop pictures with the cute Pucca fish, you can get them here.

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.

Look Italian Dolce

"Look" brand chocolates by Fujiya are something that I largely ignored up until I was given the Baskin Robbins chocolates and found them surprisingly good. In retrospect, I'm not sure why I avoided them, but I think it was because they have the typical Fujiya candies look of pretty much all of their chocolates. That is, a chocolate shell with a creamy filling. I think seeing so many of them with the Fujiya girl's big head and protruding tongue  on a plethora of sweets packages turned me off to anything offered by Fujiya, but I'm softening on the maker whose mascot is a  mutant girl with perpetually dry lips. 

So, instead of waiting for someone to give me this particular release, I forked over my own 100 yen coin ($1.20) for these selection of Italian sweets based chocolates. As with all Look brand chocolates, there are 3 very small pieces (think about half of a bite size) of each of 4 flavors and there is a slightly bittersweet chocolate shell encasing a soft flavored filling. Each candy is 21 calories, but so small that to really get a good sense of the flavors, you need to let it rest on your tongue and melt a bit.

From left: tiramisu, marron cream, espresso, limone

Tiramisu: This was like mild coffee and chocolate, with none of the mascarpone cheese flavor of tiramisu. That doesn't detract from the pleasantness of the flavor, however. I enjoyed this because it didn't carry the sense of acidity that real strong coffee can carry.

Marron cream: This was nice, though it felt more like a well-rounded milk chocolate with a mild coffee-like undertone than a chestnut one. I think the chestnut boosted the chocolate flavor rather than shone through strongly on its own. Still, quite enjoyable and you can detect the chestnut flavoring to some extent.

Espresso cream: This had a much stronger coffee flavor with a real sense of instant coffee powder than the tiramisu one. It is the weakest of the bunch, but not "bad". I was indifferent to it. It wasn't really espresso in that none of the dark-roasted notes came through. If you like Nescafe coffee, then this might float your boat.

Delicia Limone: This was the most distinctive one with some strong, slightly tart lemon flavors, and incredibly tiny bits of cookie in the cream filling to add texture. I usually don't go for lemon and chocolate, but I did like this.

I liked these just fine, but was less "wow'ed" by the combination of flavors than I was with the Baskin Robbins Look chocolates. I think I would have been happier with a whole box of Delicia Limone rather than 3 variations which each really came off a lot like variations on coffee. Still, they are nice textures and flavors, and I enjoyed them. I could see buying another box in the future, but only if there isn't something newer and more interesting to catch my eye.

Korean Corn Tea (Oksusu-cha)

This blog is called "Japanese Snack Reviews", but it's my blog and I'll cover non-Japanese products on a very infrequent basis if I want to. Also, I'm guessing this is the sort of thing that anyone can pick up in a Korean or Asian grocery store and may be of interest to at least a few of my readers. To make a tenuous connection to Japan though, I will say that, if it weren't for one of my students, I would never have sampled this tea so living here is responsible for this review both in terms of my discovering the existence of corn tea and my having ready access to it (as there is a tiny little Korean goods shop not a minute from my apartment).

The student who told me about this said that she bought it because corn tea is supposed to be good for your skin and overall beauty. I did some research and corn tea is loaded with Vitamin E. It's also supposed to be good for digestion, high blood pressure, and to help those with diabetes for reasons I am unaware of. Only at the end of one article about corn tea and my second big cup of this tea did I learn that strongly brewed corn tea is supposed to be a potent and expedient laxative. I'll get back to you on that particular effect by the end of this review should it prove to be valid.

The import shop I bought this at sold this box of 15 bags for 230 yen ($2.76). At first, I thought this was a tad on the expensive side, but the truth is that I pay similar prices for about 10 bags of flavored teas made by Lipton such as maple, caramel, or mint tea. Lipton, incidentally, is considered more of a "premium brand" (especially the "yellow label" variety) in Japan than it is back home, where I consider it the dusty sweepings off of the tea leaf processing floor.

I only realized after getting the box home and turning it over that this isn't a box with 15 tea bags for 15 cups of tea, but that each bag prepared 2 liters of tea. This makes this much better value, but presents a bit of a pickle for the likes of me. I live with a devout non-tea drinker and putting away two liters by myself is going to take at least 3 days, if not longer. Also, I have no room in my small Japanese refrigerator for lots of drinks of any sort. Finally, I don't even have a 2 liter-size vessel to make the tea in!

Since necessity is the mother of invention, I improvised and made the tea in a pot and then poured it into two 1 liter decanters (which I couldn't fit in my fridge, but never mind). The leaves smell of roasted grain and the prepared tea smells a lot like popcorn. In its default state, it has a hint of Japanese barley tea (mugi-cha) as well as roasted corn flavoring. I think the roasting is what brings on the resemblance to mugi-cha since both oksusu-cha and Japanese barley tea use roasted grains. I didn't take a picture of the brewed tea, but it is a pale gold or deep gold color depending on how long you brew it. It can be drunk either hot or cold (though I marginally preferred it cold).

Plain, this is good, but with a little sweetener or sugar added, I would upgrade it to "great". It is tea, however, and one mustn't expect it to blow ones socks off, but the flavor is really very pleasant and carries a good deal of the essence of roasted corn. I'd definitely buy it again if I could get individual teabags rather than these monster 2-liter-making bags which force me to drink a lot and store a lot. If my refrigerator were less puny (and if I had a 2-liter container), I wouldn't even hesitate to buy these monster size teabags again. And that fast-acting laxative thing? It doesn't seem to be the least bit true, fortunately.

Luna Apple Pie Midnight Sweets Yogurt

A long time ago, someone once said that they believed with the release of new products in Japan, I'd never run out of things to review. At the time, I agreed, but now, I'm starting to think that that assertion is both a little right and a little wrong. Certainly if I want to try regular chocolate Pocky, chocolate Pocky for men, thin chocolate Pocky, and double chocolate Pocky types of releases, then I will never run out. However, if I'm not looking for minor variations on themes (or revisiting seasonal reissues of old products in new packaging), the market isn't quite the cornucopia of variety I once imagined it to be.

Fortunately, there are ways to branch out that don't include reviewing every minute variation on a theme, and that's to turn to other product types. This is why this yogurt is being reviewed. It's not because I'm focusing more on healthy snacks (perish the thought), but because this is a rich vein of largely untapped varieties for me. Of course, inevitably, I'll go through enough varieties that I'll have to find myself a new well to tap, but I'm not going to worry about that for now.

After perusing the wasteland of Seiyu's snack aisle, populated by Crunky "Nude" balls (sound more interesting than they look), imported Goldfish crackers, and rice crackers I've largely already reviewed, I wandered over to the dairy section to buy cream for my husband's coffee. Being a man and having a masculine metabolism, he can afford to dump pure molecules of fat into his morning brew without suffering dire fatty consequences. As I approached the check-out, I gave the yogurt section a quick scan and the wedge of apple pie on the cover of this small (110 gram/3.9 oz.) carton of yogurt caught my eye. Of course, I'm not stupid. I don't think it's going to contain actual chunks of apple pie crust since it's only 63 calories, but I am just dumb enough to be suckered in by the idea that it might taste like pie.

This is made by the company that makes the bestest vanilla yogurt in the universe, Luna. I like the fact that this is marketed as "Midnight Sweets" and has a design meant to elicit images of dark creepiness. The advertising blurb says that this is good for bed or bath time and has fiber to fill you up and no calories from fat. It also mentions that a portion of the money from sales goes toward a breast cancer awareness and screening charity. This is the first product in Japan I've seen with the ubiquitous (back home) pink ribbon. For the record, Japan has socialized medicine, but mammograms are not covered by it.

The carton size is a little deceptive because it's only about 2/3 full. The yogurt also is on the thinner side, but that doesn't have to be a bad thing. After peeling back the foil, I gave it a sniff and it smelled of apples and cinnamon. This yogurt is quite sweet, but it has a good mixture of cinnamon, apple and yogurt. The yogurt is mellow and smooth and the little chunks of apple are firm but easy to bite into.

I wouldn't say this tastes like "apple pie", but I would say it is a pretty tasty yogurt that makes a good snack. The prominent cinnamon and apple flavors were satisfying and well-balanced. The yogurt wasn't too sour. I'd definitely go for this again, though likely not as a late night sort of thing.

Tops Rare Cheese Yogurt

It's hard sometimes to convey the value of a product that isn't available to the majority of your readers and Tops brand cakes are something you have to have experienced to understand their (relative) value. Most of the cheesecake in Japan does not resemble New York cheesecake. It is either chiffon cake which is made with cream cheese, baked cheesecake, or some bizarre bastard off-spring of sour cream, whipped cream, and cream cheese which lacks the heft and luxurious feel of cheesecake.

 The real deal, in all of its fattening glory.

The steady exception to the unpredictable and strange "cheesecake" offerings is Tops. Their shops are in some stations and in department stores and they sell the only cheesecake that I will be sad to say goodbye to when I finally pack my bags and quit this land. It's dense, rich, covered with a light frosting, and has a nice base.

This yogurt had a lot to live up to, and I know that I had to adjust my expectations. This is yogurt, not expensive cheesecake from a select shop. That being said, if they're going to slap the Tops name on the label, they'd better give me something. You can't put out a lure like that and not let me reel in a big fish.

When I first peeled back the foil, I was presented with the smell of regular yogurt and a very thick, white offering. Digging your spoon into it shows that it has the same textural quality as warmed cream cheese. The first bite is very much that of yogurt, but by the third bite, it takes on more of a cream cheese dense cheesecake sense to it. By the end, it was definitely carrying the essence of a Tops brand cheesecake both in richness and general flavor.

It's important to keep in mind that this is yogurt, and it's not going to fill the space of a really rich slice of cheesecake. That being said, this is an interesting experience and will remind you of the real deal. At 109 calories for 90 grams (3.17 oz), and at a cost of only about 100 yen ($1.20) when a small real Tops cake is considerably more expensive and exponentially more calorific, this is a chance to experience the fringes of decadence for a fraction of the cost.

Meiji Pucca Banana Milk

When I was titling this review, I was thinking about what I should call them. They're not quite cookies. They're not quite crackers, and though they're made with pretzel-like shells, they're definitely not them either. Like Pocky, I'm thinking Pucca is in a class by itself. The closest way to describe it is as a sweet version of a Combo that is made with more finesse and care.

I reviewed the classic Pucca with a chocolate filling and I liked it a lot. It was only that fact which drew me to sampling this banana milk variety. The truth is that I'm always a bit of wary of banana-flavored foods because they are often very fake. The main point about Pucca that works for me is the contrast of the pretzel-like coating with its rye flour notes and the sweet filling. I hoped that would work for this as well as it did for the chocolate version.

The cookies smell like strong, somewhat fake banana. The filling is super sweet banana with just a hint of a vanilla flavor. The "milk" part doesn't really come through strongly, but it's something you sense more as a creamy texture in the filling. On the first bite, you really mainly get the overwhelming sweet banana flavor. By the third, the sweetness detectors on my taste buds were overwhelmed enough to start picking up the pretzel exterior's unique and pleasant flavor. As is the case with all Pucca, the outer shell is thin and crispy and the filling is fatty and creamy. The entire box is 237 calories or about 10 calories per fish.

I liked these, even though the banana flavor is undeniably strong and fake and they're incredibly sweet. It's fake in a good kind of way though my husband didn't care for it (and he's generally less fussy about such things than me). I can't recommend these for just anyone, but I can only say I'd consider buying them again. They're cheap at 100 yen ($1.20) for a 46 gram (1.62 oz.) box and so intense in flavor that you don't have to eat many to feel satisfied.

Meiji Creamy Marshmallow Chocolate

 

I'll be honest. These days the chocolate sections of most stores leave me a bit cold. A lot of it is a reissue of things I've already reviewed in slightly different or the same packaging. Japan is big on seasonal and "limited edition" stuff, but I'm starting to see that what goes away almost always comes back. For example, the caramel purin KitKat in Halloween packaging has made a return visit this year as the season of the jack-o-lantern is coming upon us. It's still tasty, but it's less interesting as a repeat. I'm really only interested in something new.

Fortunately, Meiji offered something which would be common back home, but is relatively uncommon in Japan. Marshmallows and chocolate are not usually combined in Japan, though marshmallows are incorporated into a variety of other snacks. There aren't enough for me to indulge in a "week of marshmallow snacks", but I wish there were. I love marshmallow anything and the combination of chocolate with it in particular.

This large bar, 42 grams or 1.5 oz., can be had in almost any shop in Japan for about 100 yen ($1.20). I can't even remember where I bought mine, but I think it was a drug store in my neighborhood. One thing about any product made by Meiji is that the distribution is pretty wide and the products quite accessible. They're probably bribing store managers and stock boys nation-wide to ensure that this situation continues.

The ingredients list is relatively simple. It's chocolate, marshmallow including gelatin, cocoa butter, and powdered milk. I don't know if the gelatin is Japanese-style and made from seaweed or Western and made from hooves, but I'm guessing the former. The bar doesn't smell like much of anything, which is odd because chocolate usually smells like chocolate. The taste is sweet, milky, mild chocolate with a little hint of marshmallow. The marshmallow bits, while quite visible, are not all that intense. Mainly they add a textural element. The bar has a firm outside with a softer interior. Inside, it is actually creamy and the marshmallows are soft and slightly sticky. The entire bar has 229 calories  or 23 calories per square.

This has a nice, mild flavor with a little too small an amount of marshmallow for my tastes. It is pleasant nonetheless. I think that compared to most Japanese chocolate offerings, this is notable because it lacks the bittersweet notes you often experience and lacks sour or bitter aftertaste that comes along with it. While I was a little disappointed at the less than prominent use of marshmallow, I'd still buy this again.

Kameda Roast Onion Kongari Snack

When I was a kid, I turned my nose up at things like onions. They were too strong tasting and I'd get annoyed when my parents would order pizzas with onions, or worse, slimy mushrooms. While I can't say I ever got into mushrooms (though I don't hate them anymore), I've grown to adore onions and probably eat them raw or in various dishes nearly everyday.

When I saw this "roast onion" snack at Okashi no Marche discount snack store for a paltry 100 yen ($1.16), I happily tossed it in my basket. The strange thing is that I had not seen this for sale at any convenience stores before and it is clearly one of Kameda's "convenience store (conbini) only" products. You can tell the difference because of the size. Conbini-only items often are small and meant to be single servings. This is 42 grams (about 1.5 oz.) and 174 calories.

There are two different crackers in the mix. The flat ones are all onion flavor and the round balls are supposed to be red pepper flavored. The onion chips taste a lot like the type of french-fried onion pieces you can buy in markets and use in cooking or food preparation. They are very "oniony", but also quite tasty if you love onion. The little ball-shaped crackers are not as hot as I expected them to be given that they have visible pepper flakes on them. They are a mixture of savory flavors, including soy sauce, parsley, and meat flavorings with a small amount of pepper heat. Eaten separately, you can clearly discern the flavor of each cracker. Eaten together, the onion nearly overwhelms both completely.

The crackers are fresh and have a strong flavor and quite enjoyable. That being said, they're not the sort of thing you sit around hankering for. I love onion, but perhaps not at this level of roasted intensity as a snack. I think onion works so well in cooking because it adds dimension to dishes. As the sole component and featured flavor, it is only good in small doses. I ate half this bag, really like it, and closed it up to finish another day.

If your really love onion, by all means, give this a try. However, I recommend having it with a drink and not having to kiss or speak in close quarters with anyone after eating it. I would buy this again, but not often, and not soon.

"Adult Sweetness" KitKat

There are so many jokes a reviewer could make about an "adult" KitKat in terms of marital aids, pornography, etc., but as someone who has been an adult for a long time, I'd say that there are bigger realities associated with adulthood. I'm talking about things like paying taxes, being fully responsible for any crimes you commit willfully or unwittingly (not that I've ever committed a crime...), and realizing that you are neither immortal nor invincible. If eating this KitKat conveyed the sense of your own mortality, it'd truly be "adult".

In the end though, this KitKat is a brilliant example of what most Japanese KitKats are these days; they are the product of a better team of marketers and graphic designers than creative cooks. The thing that makes this "adult" is that it isn't supposed to be as sweet as most KitKats. This is achieved solely through using a very mild dark chocolate coating instead of a milk chocolate one. If you are a fan of dark chocolate that gives you an intense hit, this isn't a bar for you. It's the sort of dark chocolate flavor that cocoa sissies can find palatable.

When I opened the package, the scent reminded me of the sort of dark chocolate that I used to get at Halloween time in the form of a Hershey's  miniature that someone tossed in my trick-or-treat bag. It tasted good, which is to say that it tastes like a KitKat with marginally less sweet dark chocolate. It's really such a subtle variation on the classic presentation that it's hardly worth noting.

If you like KitKats, you'll like this. It's good and costs the same as all Japanese KitKats (120 yen ($1.43) in convenience stores, 100 yen ($1.19) at Okashi no Machioka, where I got mine), but I would avoid it at all costs if you're considering paying a premium price for one via an importer. It's simply not interesting enough to pay more for. That being said, if you're living in Japan, it's about 5% more interesting than a regular KitKat and worth picking up as a change of pace.

Ogura (red bean) Pretz

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

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

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

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

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

Luna Salt and Caramel Yogurt

Though I've never reviewed a Luna product before, I have mentioned their vanilla yogurt in a post of a Tirol candy based on their signature yogurt, a sublime and fabulously delicious vanilla yogurt. Living up to the awesomeness of their vanilla yogurt is a pretty tall order, and I didn't expect that this salt and caramel flavor would be up to the task. That being said, I still had hopes that it'd be quite enjoyable. My friend Shawn, however, remarked that yogurt, salt, and caramel would never be three flavors that he'd try to combine and was skeptical when I mentioned this find to him.

Note that this "salty caramel" fad seems to be growing wings in Japan. It has been around for awhile, but this is the second salt and caramel flavored product that I've reviewed in the recent past. The most recent was the KitKat salt and caramel big bar, but there have been scads of other products (primarily cookies and chocolates) that I've passed on. I decided to go for this particular offering because it is a Luna yogurt product and because it was so cheap. I found this at Lawson 100, a 100-yen ($1.17) shop. Each little pot is 100 grams (3.5 grams), so it's a small portion, but at only 50-yen per serving, it's a bargain.

This smells like, well, yogurt. The caramel flavor doesn't convey much of a scent. The flavors of the salt and caramel are quite subtle. The little bit of caramel hits you first followed by the salt. The caramel lingers more as the mildest of burnt caramel flavor. Like all Luna yogurts, this is super smooth, high in fat, and decadent. It's also not very sour, which is another hallmark of the Luna brand of what I'd call "dessert yogurt".

This would have been very easy to screw up because of the combination of potentially clashing flavors, but the subtlety of the caramel and salt coupled with a very low sourness level of the yogurt worked well. I can't say that this is for everyone, but it was nice and I'd give it another whirl if I was in the mood.