Yoneya Lemon Daifuku

As I've mentioned before, I am currently living in a rural area. For the most part, I love it here. Though the local politics don't match my values at all, I'm accustomed to living in a culture with values that aren't in accord with mine. In fact, I feel like living in Japan helped prepare me for being a liberal in a conservative zone. I can accept the culture (which is beyond politics, but that's the biggest "hardship") as something which suits the locals, but doesn't suit me personally and just keep my distance.

At any rate, the biggest aspect of small town life that actually does bother me is the food culture, such as it is. There are about 10 restaurants that aren't chains or fast food places, and most of them offer a limited menu with an emphasis on burgers and sandwiches. I don't like to order anything at a restaurant that I can't make myself at least as well, if not better, than a restaurant can. I rely on Yelp to some extent to make some decisions about which places to try, and, though I've lived here for almost two years, I've not hit all of the places yet because I tend to spend my money at ethnic places about an hour north of where I live (in Oregon, in a city which is big enough to have a wider range of options).

What Yelp has made me realize is just how much ones tastes are conditioned by local experience. People raved about a local steak place and it got high star reviews. My husband and I finally went there on his birthday about a year after living here and both found it extremely disappointing. The "salad bar" was a limited range of canned food options. The chicken I ate was some sort of pressed meat with grill marks. The "dessert" was a scoop of cheap ice cream with Hershey's syrup on it. This helped me see all too clearly that people who haven't had a broad range of experiences can't tell the difference between what is at the low end of the culinary scale and what is at the high end.

As someone who reviews snack foods from another country, I realize that that people may judge the food I'm judging less harshly than I do because some of them haven't lived in a place in which better options exist. And, I'm sure there are sometimes things I review which other people have more experience with that other people would find inadequate, but I really enjoyed. This snack really illustrates to me how spoiled I was to have lived in a place in which fresh confections made with mochi were common. I think someone else might have found this more enjoyable than me, but only if he/she had never had a better version.

This is made by a company called Yoneya which specializes in traditional Japanese confections like yokan (a block of sweet bean gel). They seem to offer a lot of summer gift boxes as well as individually wrapped sweets like the one I'm reviewing. One of their less traditional, but quite interesting looking foods is a peanut monaka. It's actually shaped like a peanut, comes in a peanut-shaped box, but is oddly filled with red bean jam (anko) and not peanut-based filling. Oh well, two out of three ain't bad...

The mochi shell on this wasn't hard, but it also wasn't super soft and pliable. It seemed too thick and, though it was easy to bite into, it was weirdly firm in a way most fresh (non-shelf-stable) mochi is not. That said, the lemon filling in this was nothing short of amazing. It was tangy, sweet, and bright. The flavors were so good that I very much wanted the textures to match and I decided to give it a turn in the microwave to see if warming up the mochi would make the texture more stretchy and pliable, but it didn't change anything. It seemed too thick and overworked/dense. It was very unfortunate that the mochi outside didn't match the lemony bean filling inside.

If you want to try this, and I guessing you don't, I'm afraid you're out of luck as the only place you could have gotten one was from Bokksu and they seem to no longer carry them.

Source: Part of the Bokksu premium summer citrus box

Maybelle Lemon Donut

I was both looking forward greatly to this donut (because it's lemon!) and wary about how it was going to be (because, Japanese). I am not a huge eater of donuts, but I did find that packaged donuts in Japan had some very predictable problems. It's not that American shelf-stable donuts are any great bargain either, but they don't suffer from the same distinctive issues as Japanese ones. The only one that I ever really craved and ate multiple times was a "rosette" donut. It resembled an old-fashioned donut and it was more about texture than anything else. On rare occasions, I still crave one, though not as often as I crave a fresh "angel cream" donut from Mister Donut. That was my one, true, and thoroughly complete donut love. All others pale in the face of it and none will ever measure up to it. Sigh.

It probably isn't great to ponder the best experience you ever had before contemplating the new one before you, but here I am. It's like remembering the first time you saw the original "Star Wars" movie just before you saw that abomination with Jar Jar Binks with the hour-long pod racing sequence. You're just setting yourself up for deep, deep disappointment.

This is a classic shelf-stable Japanese donut, and, in this case, "classic" isn't a good thing. The defining characteristics of one of these confections is that the exterior is slightly greasy so that you can't eat it without getting a film on your fingers and the interior is oddly oily, but still so dry that you need to have a beverage along with it so as not to feel your tongue has just wandered vaguely through a small desert.

The best part of these was how they smelled. The fragrance was that of subtle lemon and that familiar smell of "baked goods" that you get when you walk into a bakery. There are some very sparse bits of candied lemon in the donut, but not nearly as many as would be nice. These bits don't yield a whole lot more lemon flavor, but have a nice sugary crunch.

This is made by a company called Maybelle which makes a variety of products that include both waffles and donuts. Their lemon donut is sold in a case which is labeled as 8 x 8 and I'm not sure if that means you get 8 boxes with 8 donuts in each or if that refers to box size. I couldn't locate a price, but this does look like the sort of thing you could pick up at a convenience store for 100-200 yen or get in a large souvenir box  at a department store (like for between 1,000 and 2,000 yen).

I'm glad to have tried this and for it to have been part of a shipment of a box from a Japanese snacks subscription service, but I have no desire to have one again. It's the sort of thing that, in the old days when I was living in Tokyo, I would have grabbed on the run while my husband and I were out on a sojourn visiting a distant area because it was better than anything else at hand when there was a limited selection. Also, it's the sort of thing that the idea of how good it will be will ensure that you forget how it really is.

Source: part of the Bokksu premium summer citrus box

Haagen Daz Lemon Ginger Float Sorbet (product announcement)

Haagen Dazs Japan gave fans of their frozen desserts a chance to sample this product before its official release on July 7. On June 2, Nissin market sold a lemon ginger float flavor before the rest of Japan could get their tongues wrapped around it. It's an interesting thing to do because the flavor is definitely going to be widely released so this isn't test marketing. It's more about making something exclusively available via a particular vendor for a limited time. It's not quite the same as limited edition Oreos only being sold at Walmart (as often seems to be the case), but it's one standard deviation away from that.

This is definitely one of the more promising unique flavor combinations that Haagen Daz has come up with. The only thing about it which could be the case is that it has a little bit of an "I have a cold and this is the flavor of tea that would probably make me feel better" vibe about it. If there was some honey in the mix, it'd definitely be a (much tastier) substitute for cough syrup. 

Reko Pizzelle (Vanilla, Anise, and Lemon)

The idea that a food is better in another country than its country of origin is not an alien one, though I do believe it's something which would be hotly debated. The idea that "Authentic" cuisine using the ingredients of the country in which the dish was developed is superior to any adaptations in other countries tends to be debated. In fact, at the moment, I'm hard-pressed to come up with any food in America that people (other than Americans) think is better here than in its home country. This could reflect the limits of my imagination, of course. Readers may feel free to share their thoughts.

Reko, the company in Cananda that makes today's focus of a review, asserts that their pizzelle are so good that they export them to the Abruzzo region of Italy. That's the area in which pizzelle were reportedly formulated. They boldly say Italians think their pizzelle are better than native offerings.

I can't speak for Italians, but I can speak for me. The truth is that I have consumed very few pizzelle in my life. For those who are even more unfamiliar with them than me, they are a thin, crispy, waffle-like cookie. They are less deeply browned and crispy than a waffle cone used for ice cream, but do have the same flavors in their mix.

These cookies were available at Cost Plus World Imports. The main reason I ended up buying them was that there was a basket of samples of the dulce de leche flavor on hand. I don't even like dulce de leche, but I liked the sample so I picked up the three other flavors that sounded even more appealing to me. I figured if the one I didn't like was good, the ones I liked would be even better.

I paid $3.50 per box of 30 cookies. There are three packs of 10 in each box (which greatly reduces the risk of them going stale) and the nutrition information says that a serving is five cookies. For me, I tend to try to keep it to three or four, tops, but I can see how easy it would be to get carried away given that they are crisp, light, and only 23 calories each. You can put away quite a few for the calorie price of less than two and a half Oreo cookies.

All of these cookies have the same basic mix and prominent flavor profile. They have a slightly carmelized flavor which says that flour, fat, and sugar have come together in a toasty orgy to create a more appealing offspring. All of the flavors are relatively subtle and come through as a secondary flavor after the overall "waffle/cookie" taste. Of the three flavors, lemon is my least favorite for not other reason than it seems to add a little too much of a citric sourness and not quite enough of a floral sense. That is not to say I dislike it. I do, but vanilla is my favorite with anise being in the middle of the pack.

The shining star of these cookies is the texture and subtlety. They are the perfect light accompaniment to tea or coffee as a light treat. The web site and packaging show them with fruit toppings, cream fillings, and chocolate between them like a waffle sandwich, but I love them plain. I think that appreciating them as a simple treat while attending to the delicate flavors is a treat and I'll definitely have them again.

Random Picture #190

Some time back, I reviewed the liquid version of one of the three candies pictured above. These three flavors are super pickled plum (umeboshi), super soda (ramune - like lemon lime usually) and, rather obviously, super lemon. On the first bag, the caption is, "Ah, suppai," which means "sour". It can also  mean "acidic" but umeboshi are quite sour. 

The interesting thing about these intense candies is that the brand given here is "Nobel". The liquid version, which is clearly the same brand as the graphics are identical, was made by Japan Tobacco. I'm guessing JT licensed the flavor for a beverage because Nobel (or "J-bel" as it sometimes calls itself) has been making candy under that name since 1949. 

One interesting thing about the web page for all of Nobel's hard candies is that they have little descriptions under them and one or the other is highlighted to tell consumers what sort of product it is. The options are "basic", "healthy", "handy", and "fashion & casual". These candies are all listed as "basic". It strikes me as a way of marketing which essentially says, "this is our boring" candy, and a very strange way to promote a product. I'm guessing this is one of those cultural differences that I haven't figured out yet.

Sanko Seika Lemon Sembei

There's an episode of Monty Python in which people rather inexplicably keep saying "lemon curry" in a very quizzical fashion. I must say that I feel the same way about the concept of "lemon sembei". Since sembei can be sweet, it does have permission to be so, perhaps this isn't so strange, but I have to say that this is the first time I've run across this particular flavor. When I saw it at Marukai Japanese market for about $2.30 (about 230 yen), I couldn't resist despite the potential for disappointment.

These crackers are kin to Sanko Seika's venerable "Snow Inn" line of frosted sembei. I've reviewed them somewhat unfavorably in the past, but the general flavor concept is starting to grow on me. In fact, I may revisit the original Snow Inn crackers at some point in the future.

When you open the packet, they don't smell especially lemony. The first bite reveals just a hint of lemon flavor and a very modest tang. This is a salty sweet with a decent balance of both. Instead of them coming together in a battle royal, they sit quietly in their play pen making up new and imaginative flavor games. It's not a flavor punch, but I think it works well with its subtle flavor tones.

This was unique, but not in a bad way as such things can be. I was very surprised at how well it all came together, though there is a bit of a sense of disharmony when the "baked rice" flavor of the sembei comes through and it's mixed with a twist of lemon. However, once I got used to that concept, I really enjoyed these. They may not be everybody's cup of tea, but if you like lemon and sembei, and have a marginally adventurous palate, I'd recommend giving them a try. They're also only 53 calories per two sembei packet. That's a pretty good deal.

Incidentally, the yen is getting a little weaker and prices in Japanese markets are going down. I noticed when I went to Marukai that things were looking a little more affordable. This is bad news for folks working in Japan, but good news for those of us on the other side of the ocean buying stuff as imports.

Glico Rare Cheesecake Pocky

When I did a product information post on the summer Pocky releases, I didn't really expect to find myself sampling them. However, my husband and I recently moved to a new place - and note that this is our sixth move since returning to the U.S. and I can say with experience now that moving is absolute hell - we found a place within walking distance of a Korean market that has the lowest prices I've ever seen on these types of limited edition Pocky. When I saw this for $1.99, I figured that there was no reason not to try it despite my reservations about the flavor.

What reservations are those? Well, they are the ones which say that this is going to taste like bad dairy or powdered milk at best and some sort of savory cheese like Gouda or Cheddar at worst. That was my initial concern when I wrote the product information post. There's something rather cool about making such a prediction and seeing whether or not it comes true.

"Rare" cheesecake means that this should taste like cream cheese. It should not be especially pungent or have the sharpness of an aged cheese and should possess a delicate sweetness and a rich undertone of fattiness. Yeah, I'm expecting a lot out of a psuedo-chocolate goo coated pretzel stick.

After opening the packet, I gave it a whiff and it smelled funky. My husband said that "it's a fine line between rare and bad cheese". This is definitely treading the line. It smells like milk that is going off, but isn't quite at the scary level yet. You could probably get away with keeping it for one more day and using it in your coffee or tea, but you're not going to want to drink it straight.

Pocky does not live or die on scent alone. In fact, I'm guessing most people don't even notice the aroma. The first bite tasted a bit "cheesy" to me in a not so good way, but subsequent bites allowed my tongue to acclimate and it wasn't so bad. In fact, there is definitely a progression when you eat these. The first bite is "too much" pungent dairy. The second is mellow sweet somewhat milky, but slightly cheesey in a good way flavor and the third has a nice lemon kick to it.

This is not the greatest Pocky on the face of the planet, but it is unique and kind of tasty once you get paste the first hit of strong "cheese powder" flavoring. It's has that sort of quality that you find in which a food becomes better as you eat more and it encourages you to chow down on the whole package at once. In this case, it at least helps you avoid the slightly unpleasant sense of that initial bite if you eat a whole package (170 calories) at once.

Since coming home, Pocky has been growing on me. I didn't care much for it in Japan, but I do like the pretzel goodness more than I used to. I'm not sure if that is because I no longer have access to certain other types of snacks or if I'm just more inclined to give it a chance. Whatever the case may be, I liked this, but perhaps only enough to try it about once a year. If I had a rating between "indifferent" and "happy", this would get it. In all fairness though, I did enjoy it, so it gets a smiling sumo wrestler.

Tohato All Lemon Salty Biscuits/Cookies

If you look at the design of the "All" on the "All (fruit)" line of cookies, you'll see that the "A" is pretty darn happy. The two "l's" seem to be distant cousins of "Hello Kitty" as they are mouth-less. One has to wonder why the designer came up with this style. Was drawing too little mouths on the "l's" going to make the top set of letters seem like too happy a family next to the expressionless words beneath? Did the designer not have enough ink to draw just a little more? Was he or she suddenly struck down with sadness after drawing the little curve on the "A"?

Personally, I'm not sure why anyone feels it's necessary to anthropomorphize letters and assign them human feelings. It just encourages deviant behavior. If people think letters possess emotions, there might be some ridiculous movement toward giving them human rights and they can refuse to work for us. I'll have to start giving their unions money in order to use them in my posts. If that happens, it's all over, people.

Getting to the cookies, like all of the "All (fruit)" line, there is supposed to be 10 cm. of fruit crammed between two cookie layers. I guess that they are compressed into a quantum singularity of fruit filling for your convenience. There's no fear of getting lockjaw after having to open your mouth wide to bite down on 10 cm. of fruit. Woohoo?

One of the points about the "All (fruit)" line that I like is the texture mix of the somewhat dry biscuit cookie base mixed with moist, sweet dried fruit. The fruit really brings moisture into the equation in most cases, but not in this one. Lemon is not exactly a soft fruit when dried because it has a low sugar content. That doesn't make this bad, but it does make them a bit dry and lower the quality of the experience of eating them.

This is unfortunate because I like the mild lemon flavor mixed with a hint of salt. The salt is very well-balanced from my perspective because it lies in wait until you've chewed the carby, floury cookie base and chewy lemon. It comes in most prominently at the end, but not so potently as to make this unpleasantly salty.

These are fine, but they could be better. There could be more sweetness to boost the overall flavor profile. Though I am not a fan of huge amounts of sugar, I think that it can add to more potent flavors and this can use it. Also, I truly wish the cookie and the filling were moister. If the cookie had a cakier feel, I think these would definite be worth repeating. They aren't though, so I wouldn't have these again.

Random Picture #175

For those who don't know, Tirol sells little square chocolates in two styles. One is a "premium", which is a 1 inch/2.54 cm. square that sells for about 20 yen (20 cents) per piece. Those are the more sophisticated versions. The other is a smaller version, about 2/3 the size of the premium one, and is sold in various variety packs. Most of what I get my hands on these days is the small stuff. The easiest way to get them is in long strips of nine. They are often sold in Japanese markets in my area for a little over $2. It's not a bad deal, even though it is double the price for such things in Japan.

The main issue with them is that they always use boring flavors that I've had many times before and put in just one new flavor. In the case of this package (nine candies), three of them are "white cookie" and three are "milk". The new one, which comprises the final three, is lemon cookie. I never want to buy six that I've had before and find okay but not fantastic in order to get one that I would like to try. This method probably works pretty well for Tirol with kids (who I believe are the main market for this), but it isn't flying with this jaded old lady.

Cafe Tirol Lemon Tea and Coffee Jelly assortment

My husband is not a very visually oriented person. In fact, I'll not infrequently point out something design or art-oriented and he'll say he did not notice. However, after I bought this, he picked the bag up and remarked that it was really designed well. We both thought it brought to mind two very famous coffee shops without going so far as to infringe on their copyrights. I thought of Starbucks because of the color scheme and he thought of Tully's because of the stripes. They did a good job of evoking the coffee shop experience while still avoiding being sued. 

In Japan, I imagine this sells for around 150 yen ($1.50) as it is the regular small chocolates rather than premium ones. It's still listed on Tirol's web site, but they don't offer prices for this. I paid $2.19 for it at Nijiya. The only way I could find to buy them online was via eBay for obscene prices ($7.49 and $4.00). Unfortunately, Candysan, which tends to offer some of the better prices on such things, doesn't carry Tirol chocolates of any kind. 

Even the little packages are nicely designed!

The lemon tea chocolate is an interesting blend of lemon and tea with a strong bitter finish. I'm not sure if the bitterness is supposed to represent the bitterness of strong tea or the pith of a lemon. This is not a bad thing, necessarily, but it comes on as a bit of a shock after the mellow tea and somewhat sweet lemons flavors. Inside is a bland little biscuit which adds a nice textural element and perhaps lightens up the sweetness of the candy in general. I like the cookie being put in the tea candy because it has shades of "afternoon tea" with tea and a biscuit.

The coffee jelly has a very strong coffee flavor coupled with some strong sweetness. The top is white chocolate, which is either supposed to represent whipped cream (likely) or milk (less likely). The thing is that, I had coffee jelly on occasion in Japan and this very much captures the taste of that treat. The jelly candy in the middle is soft and easy to cleave and, like the biscuit in the tea candy, adds some textural interest.

I really liked both of these for their strong flavors and textural variety. Though they aren't the most incredible, mind-blowing chocolates I've ever had, they have both high novelty value and are pleasurable. What I tend to ask of such candy is that they have solid flavor strength without being disgusting or overbearing and decent depth of flavor. These score well on both fronts. If you like coffee and tea, I'd say they're worth a try. The only risk is that the packaging will have you craving a latte or frappucino.

Dydo Yuzu Lemon Cider

Readers may have noticed that I haven't reviewed many Japanese beverages since returning to the U.S. This isn't because I haven't had access. It's because they are incredibly expensive as imports at Japanese markets. The average price hovers between $2.50 and $3.00 for soft drinks, and that's a pretty penny for liquid refreshment. A drink has to be pretty compelling for me to fork over that sort of scratch.

This drink won a rare spot on my review blog because it contains yuzu, that blessed citrus fruit that tastes like a cross between a lemon and a grapefruit. It has enough bitterness and sourness to be interesting, but tends to be coupled with other flavors or be subtle enough to be palatable. In fact, the last night I spent in Japan, I had my one and only sip of an alcoholic beverage at Akiyoshi yakitori restaurant because it was made with yuzu. I have to say that it was delicious (but I still only tasted it), and part of the reason I wanted to try this was my memory of how good that extremely mild mixed drink was. I think it was like what the Japanese call "chuhai", which is usually rather like a wine cooler in potency though not in composition.

This is a zero calorie beverage, which means it is made with artificial sweeteners. In this case, it's maltitol (first ingredient) and sucralose (last ingredient). I'm not especially sensitive to such sweeteners, but I'm sure those who are would be pretty put off by their presence in this. Dydo also makes another version of this, which I believe contains sugar and I know is sold hot. I used to see the hot version in convenience stores in Tokyo in winter. I thought I might try it, but never got around to it. This is a bit of a consolation prize for what I missed.

Obviously, I didn't expect this to taste like a mixed drink. I expected it to taste like yuzu and lemon. Unfortunately, it didn't taste like much of anything. While it does have an extremely subtle pleasant lemon taste with a whisper of yuzu that is so insubstantial that it could be considered the flavor equivalent of gossamer, it just isn't strong enough to be compelling. I realize that Japanese food and drinks tend to be subtle, but this is more insubstantial than usual. Think of lemonade that has been watered down to half of its potency and carbonated and you're in the ballpark.

If Dydo meant for this to be a mixer, it failed on that front as far as I'm concerned as well. If you mixed this with anything, the flavor would be pretty much lost. While utterly inoffensive, and refreshing in its own way, this is not the sort of thing I'd be likely to buy even for it's Japanese price of around 100-150 yen ($1.05-$1.57) a bottle, let alone for the $2.79 I paid for it at Hankook Korean market.

This is the second Dydo beverage that I've reviewed, and the first one fared a lot better in my estimation. I wouldn't say this is bad at all. It's just not impressively good. It could be that I'm just setting the bar much higher given the price tag, but I really think there's nothing to see here. Move along.

Lemon Lucky Thin Crackers

One of the things that I'm finding overwhelming about being in the U.S. is the enormous variety of products. There are dozens of flavors of some things, and several flavors of nearly everything. The selection is often so overwhelming that you spend most of the time trying to tune out what you don't want and zero in on what you do. While selection is great, research has shown that having more than three choices changes the experience from one that is interesting to one that is stressful. Do you hear that Nabisco? We don't need more than 30 Oreo products available at any given time!

Part of the problem with having so many choices, besides the fact that you can end up like Mr. Burns standing around trying to decide between "ketchup" and "catsup", is that you tend to be so overwhelmed by choice that you have to zero in on a small subset and ignore everything else. Sometimes, what is in "everything else" may be of interest either economically or in terms of flavor. That is where these crackers come in. The truth is that I would almost certainly never choose to buy these if I were perusing a store that carried them because there's so much other food and this would look like a weird or boring option. I'd likely eliminate the section they were in and zero in on the more glamorous-looking options.

Fortunately, I was given these as a hostess gift by a visiting friend. When we have her over, she always asks if she can bring anything. We always say she doesn't need to bring anything, but, if she insists, she can bring something for dessert. This has turned out to be a good deal because she's of Chinese descent and often brings us family favorites that we are unfamiliar with. Her previous treat was a roll cookie which I really enjoyed. This time, it was these lemon crackers.

These are distributed by a company called "President Global Corporation" and made in Indonesia. They make a variety of these types of crackers including honeydew melon, chocolate, coconut, and sesame flavors. In terms of snacks, they also sell rice crackers and various other cookies and wafers. Beverages, noodles, and other more mundane food offerings are also a part of their line-up. Though I do not know where my friend got these, after receiving them, I noted that they were available at 99 Ranch Market. What was even better is that they are only 99 cents (92 yen) a box, so they are an economical choice if you want to experiment.

The crackers smell pleasantly lemony and look like a thin version of a Ritz. The top is lightly sprinkled with sugar. The flavor is a very pleasant mixture of a basic cracker with light sweetness and real lemon flavor that is at just the right level to be present, but not strong enough to seem like you're eating something that furniture polish has been splashed onto. The texture is light and they are pleasantly crispy, though not as brittle as a saltine.

No one is more surprised than me that these are so good. They are quite addictive, in fact, and I think they'd pair well with a cup of tea as a light snack. Saying "light" is not to be confused with "low calorie" as the whole small box (100 grams/3.5 oz.) is 415 calories. They also are not "healthy" as the ingredients list starts with flour followed by sugar then vegetable oil (pal or coconut). The lion's share of what you are eating is a refined carb, sugar, and a hydrogenated fat. If you can exercise portion control, however, that should not be a problem.

I really liked these and will absolutely try another flavor in the near future. If you are a fan of more elaborate treats rather than something relatively simple and clean, these may not float your boat. These are nothing like the sugar, flavor-blasted stuff that tends to be more popular in the United States. They are subtle and delicate and not nearly as sweet as a cookie nor as salty as a cracker. However, I think they're well worth a sampling if you can pick up a box for cheap.

Ramune candy and kid's gum (round stuff)

This post is a review of three items that are unified in two ways. All of them are round and I got them all as part of the Sakura Box monthly candy box. Note for my readers, November is KitKat month and they're offering 5 unique KitKat flavors. I mention that not because they sent me free candy (though they did), but because I know many people are especially interested in Japanese KitKats.

This is part of the selection I received in the October candy box and these are the types of small things that are very common in the kid's snacks section in Japanese markets. I am familiar with all of these things, and I once had the little boxes of gum with fruit illustrations on them, but it was so long ago that my aging brain lost the memory. Well, it's either my age or the fact that one isn't exactly stowing away such memories as if they were precious and not to be forgotten. It is, after all, only bubble gum.

Marukawa Fusen gum (upper right in the picture) is one that I saw around for pretty much the duration of my 23 years in Japan. It was often sold in multi-packs that included all available flavors, but also as individual packs of one flavor. I also often saw enormous tubs of it as prizes in UFO Catcher machines. I'm not sure who would want such a huge amount of these little pellet-shaped bits of gum, but I guess someone out there really loves it, especially little kids.

 See? It is all round stuff!

The orange tastes a lot like Bayer's orange baby aspirin in the U.S., except with a bit more tartness and sweetness. The grape is your typical grape gum flavor. The melon is probably the weirdest one because it tastes strongly of quite sweet cantaloupe in the initial burst of flavor. In fact, it's rather too strong and my taste buds rebelled at first.

Fortunately, or unfortunately, all flavors of this gum have a very short half life on the flavor front. Within 5 minutes, pretty much all of the flavor is gone and you're left with some pleasantly soft and pliable bubble gum and a generic sweetness. Incidentally, I chewed all 4 little gum balls (each is about the size of a large pea) at once. I can't imagine that anyone would chew one at a time. As bubble gum goes, this is fine. It's nothing spectacular, but if you were a kid and wanted to stuff your maw full of a big wet blob of it and blow a bubble that would explode all over your face, this would do the trick.

The "tsuppai (sour) lemon" gum, which contains three larger gum balls but the wrapper said it was only 2 servings, is made by a company called "Meiji Gum". I should note that both Marukawa and Mei specialize in gum, which seems like an odd choice, but I guess it's what a lot of companies do in America as well. You just never think about someone saying to himself (it's usually a "him"), I think I'll start a chewing gum company. In the case of Marukawa, that was said in 1888, apparently. That's some forward thinking.

As promised, this is sour lemon gum. In fact, it was a bit too intense for me and I had to spit it out after a short chew. That doesn't mean it's bad. It just means I'm a sourness wuss, or that it didn't go over too great after chewing the sweet tiny little gum balls.

I give both types of gum an indifferent rating because they are pretty much just kid's gum in approachable flavors. The main benefit of them is that they have a good texture and carry an intense candy-like burst of flavor at the start. The main drawback is that the flavor doesn't last long and that once it drains away, you're left with sweetness (or sourness) and not much more.

 Finally, I tried the ramune candy which comes in the plastic blue-green soda bottle in the upper left of the picture at the top of this review. It is made by confectionery powerhouse, Morinaga. If you don't realize it, they're the folks that are delivering HiChew to the world. These are pressed powder candies like SweeTarts, but they are looser and softer than those American sweets. If you bite down on them, they quickly dissolve into a soft blobby bit in your mouth. If you let them dissolve on your tongue, they yield slowly and release the flavor of bubble gum. They're sweet, but not overbearingly so and have a fresh flavor which is hard to pin down.

I actually like powdered candies like this more than the average adult. I'm not sure that I'd keep a stash around the house, but when I happen to buy one or are given one, I enjoy them more than I might expect and that was certainly so with this ramune candy. 

Citrus Golden Blend KitKat

I have whined before that I would not fork over 840 yen ($10.23) for boxes of region-specific KitKats. There is something about standing in an airport knowing that this is the last time I'll be there and have a chance to turn my nose up at these somewhat expensive candy bars that makes me put my nose back down and plunk down my yen. There are lots of regional KitKats around, and many had been for sale just down the street from where I used to work in Shinjuku. With the knowledge that I can no longer go down the street to buy such things in the forefront of my mind, I bought this and another box of regional KitKats for review.

These KitKats represent the regions of Chugoku and Shikoku, both of which grow citrus fruit and I'm guessing that is pretty much where any regional connection is born and passes gracefully away. I say they "represent" because clearly they aren't only sold there if you can buy them at Narita International Airport. The fruit blend is sudachi, mikan (a Japanese tangerine), and lemon. I have seen sudachi before, but thought it was a lime. It's supposed to be zestier than lemons and limes, and I'm pretty sure that I've had it in various Japanese dishes.

The bar smells like a mixture of lemon, orange, and white chocolate. The first burst of flavor is definitely a pretty nice juicy orange task followed by a very mellow lemon. I only ate one small bar (as that would be one serving size), and thought it was pretty good. With any white chocolate candy, I'm mainly hoping that the sweetness doesn't overwhelm and it isn't too cloying. Getting depth of flavor rather than some one-note overbearing taste, is a bonus, and I'm pleased to say that this has that going for it as well.

There are 12 mini bars in one box and each is 69 calories. Breaking down the price, each bar is 70 yen (85 cents), which is not a ridiculous price, but still more expensive than buying regular 4-finger boxes of specialty or regular KitKats. However, this is a pretty tasty variation and worth at least one sampling, especially if you are a fan of citrus white chocolate candy. It may not be the requisite "weird Japanese KitKat" flavor, but at least it's good.

Meiji Fruity Lemon Chocolate

This review represents what is likely to be the last of the "summer" snack offerings that I'll be covering in 2011. Lemon has been the shining star of the setsuden (energy conservation) summer in Japan. Somebody somewhere decided that the sharp sourness of lemon was equated with "ice" and "cool". Perhaps you're supposed to be braced by the desire to pucker up, though I can't say that I personally have ever encountered a lemon sweet that wasn't sufficiently saturated with sugar that I have found myself in the remote vicinity of a pucker.

This is part of Meiji's line of stick chocolates, which were introduced some time in the last year or so. My first encounter with this particular line was with a cinnamon version. At that time, I thought it was a one-off release, but the general line must have been successful as now I'm seeing many flavors including Earl Grey, ginger, and mint. This line is called "my choco box". I guess that it serves people who are possessive about their treats.

There are 6 sticks in the package. Each is about 30 calories for about 5 grams. My guess is the total volume is not dissimilar to a Hershey's Kiss, though the presentation makes the experience different. At normal room temperature (not hot, not cold), the chocolate is on the soft side and has no snap at all. Frankly, I wasn't fond of the texture as I like chocolate to be a bit peppier when I bite into it. This yields like an overcooked noodle.

The box says that this is made with 26% lemon juice and the lemon is quite present, but not nearly as sour as I might like. There's a missing citric acid bite which has either been consumed by the cloying sweetness of white chocolate or too much sugar. My husband, who likes things sweeter than me, liked this fine. He felt the balance of flavor and sweetness was quite good. I found myself wondering if it was all a bit too one-note for me and if I might have liked it better if there had been greater depth to the flavor such as added vanilla, more salt, or another citrus addition.

For me, I think I'd like this better if it was refrigerated first to make the chocolate firmer and the flavor was enjoyable if on the sweet side. I feel it's unfair to give it an indifferent rating even though I personally would not buy a box for myself again. That being said, if my husband bought a box for himself (and he did say he'd buy this again), I'd certainly eat a piece of it. I'm giving this a "happy" rating because I think it's good, even though it's not an ideal sweet for someone with my particular tastes.

Yamazaki Lemonack

I've mentioned before that I took on a part-time job because of post-quake income loss. This has had many benefits for me and a few drawbacks. The main drawback is that blogging time has been dramatically slashed and I now struggle to keep up (and may yet have to reduce posting frequency, but I'm hoping not to). The benefits, beyond more cash, are that I'm meeting a whole new crop of people and learning ever more about Japan and the Japanese people and that I have regular access to areas I wouldn't normally go to. To that end, there's a convenience store (konbini) chain that is not in my area but is at one of my new workplaces. It's called "Daily Yamazaki". Note that going to a shop is infinitely better than hanging around one of my new workplaces since it is located in a huge old building in a very seedy area that houses a giant pachinko parlor, a karaoke bar, and several other establishments catering to less than elegant appetites. However, the job itself is great and the workplace very nice except for the air conditioning settings which are designed for reptilian metabolisms.

One might think that a "konbini" is a konbini is a konbini, but that is not so. The Daily Yamazaki chain is ran by the same people who make Yamazaki Pan products. That means they get to gobble up more shelf space in their own convenience stores. These are things which I'm not likely to find anywhere else and that's how I ran across this "Lemonack". I was killing time before work (as I'm compulsive and always arrive early) and checking out their stock. I picked this up purely based on name and the fact that it was made with lemon as I didn't have copious amounts of time and didn't investigate the ingredients list. The front of the package is utterly devoid of clues as to what is inside, but at a mere 68 yen (85 cents) for something about half the size of my palm, I wasn't really making a big investment anyway.

It turned out that this is a little lemon cake with lemon coating. This must be a seasonal thing right now because local bakeries have been offering very similar things as of late and this is not too dissimilar  from the Fujipan lemon cake that I reviewed previously. Well, it is a lot smaller, less sweet and less moist, but the general shape and concept are the same. The cake is slightly dry, which isn't surprising considering it has to sit around for about a week in the store. Most of the flavor is coming from the sweet lemony coating, as is a very nice aroma. While the yellow cake doesn't add much taste, it also doesn't really detract.

This is a hard one to rate because I definitely enjoyed eating it, but couldn't help but think that I'd only buy it again under specific circumstances. I'd have to have coffee or tea to have with it to offset the dryness, desire a baked good, and want a small portion to ensure that I wouldn't eat too much. Since I'm generally pretty good at limiting portions without external enforcement, the latter isn't a strong issue for me, but may be for others. I'd also probably have to be looking for something economical rather than a more expensive bakery option because there are bakeries in the vicinity as well. That being said, I think this warrants a favorable rating overall, but I wouldn't be jonesing for another... though I'd buy a whole case if Yamazaki Pan would explain the naming and why this is called a "nack".

Just a gentle reminder that there is a contest running for two weeks to win a few snack and snack-related goodies. If you'd like to enter, the details are in this post.

Oreo Bits "Ice Flavor" (Lemon)

Ice is made of water and water tastes like pretty much nothing. If these cookies were actually "ice flavor(ed)", then they'd taste like nothing, right? We can thank this confusing naming convention on the energy conservation efforts which I have mentioned before. Marketers are going crazy trying to fool people into thinking eating, drinking, or fanning themselves with various products will produce coolness. Suffice it to say, you may have better luck cooling off with these Oreos if you fanned their tiny little selves than if you ate them. Eating does produce a thermic response, after all, and the very act of ingesting calories will warm you up.

Setting aside the dumb attempt to make you think these cookies are going to cool you off, they are actually pretty tasty. They are lemon cream-filled Oreos with a sweet, tart and bitterness combination that has depth as well as a good textural combo with the crunchy cookies and smooth, soft creamy center. The lemon is strong enough to compete favorably with the bitter chocolate cookie exterior, but not so much as to clash. The sweetness level is right about where it needs to be to balance everything out.

I found these cookies at a local convenience store for 103 yen (about $1.25 for a 60-gram (a little over 2 oz.) bag. This gets you 20 cookies at about 15 calories a cookie (296 calories for the entire bag). The pricing is rather peculiar since stores usually don't price such that you'll have to fish out one-yen coins. I'm not going to argue with it though as it is a little cheaper than expected for this portion size (at least in Japan).

I really enjoyed these, as did my husband, but a lot depends on how you feel about the lemon and chocolate combination. Some people love the mix of citrus and chocolate and others rather not so much. It also depends a lot on how you feel about the particular combination of Oreo bitter chocolate cookies with such flavors, but I found it very much to my liking. I'm also a great fan of this sort of portion size because sometimes after a meal, I just want a bite or two of a cookie and these somewhat larger than a dime/one-yen coin cookies really do the trick.

Just a gentle reminder that there is a contest running for two weeks to win a few snack and snack-related goodies. If you'd like to enter, the details are in this post.

Fujipan Lemon Cake

 "Born from an exhausting research of fine tastes. We provide a first-class taste brought directly from the earth." This is what Fujipan has written in elegant script on the front of the package of the lemon cake I'm about to review. I think that means these are baked by Morlocks, or the mole people. Either way, I'm inspecting it carefully before I take a bite to make sure there aren't any Eloi baked inside.

I found this cake in Seiyu supermarket's giant ass pile of baked goods. It looks like a yard sale of consumer-grade pastries after it has been liberally picked over and fondled by retirees and housewives who would rather fondle the baked goods than attend to their irate children. It was next to a lemon melon pan, and this won the contest for which one I'd buy because I knew my husband would split this large cake (about the size of two Hostess cupcakes) with me but not the melon pan. It cost a mere 100 yen ($1.21).

The cake has a lemon glaze on the outside and is split open ostensibly to pipe lemon cream into the center. While the glaze covers all of the top, the lemon cream is extremely sparse. In fact, there was probably a smidge (that's a technical term equivalent to about half a teaspoon) in my half. This is unfortunate because the cream is delicious with a strong zesty lemon flavor and a creamy richness. The rest of the cake is mainly skating by on two things, the texture and glaze.The cake iss moist, tender and slightly dense. The glaze is very lightly sweet and only cares a hint of lemon.

At about 340 calories, the whole cake is a bit of a calorie bomb, but if you can manage to muster up the self-control to only eat half, it makes a very nice treat for tea time or dessert. The texture is exceptional for a packaged cake and, while I could have done with more lemon in the glaze and definitely more of the lemon cream filling, I'm satisfied with the taste and sweetness level as well. I could definitely see buying this again.

Luna Winter Apple with lemon and ginger yogurt

The Japanese are big into seasonal anything, so I'm guessing there is some special significance to these being "winter apples". I doubt, however, that my taste buds will know the difference. They're not exactly the most refined papillae out there, after all, but I also doubt that a 100 yen ($1.20) carton of yogurt requires a greatly refined palate.

I found this yogurt at Lawson 100 shop, but I'm sure it can be found in supermarkets and other convenience stores. I'm not a huge fan of apple treats, or even relatively healthy things like yogurt, but the inclusion of ginger and lemon made the idea of this more attractive to me. I also liked the fact that it's only 69 calories for 120 grams (4.2 oz.). It also helps that it is made by Luna, maker of many delicious yogurt offerings in Japan.

The yogurt smells like apples, which is no surprise. There is a generous amount of small, nicely firm apple chunks and they are liberally seasoned with lemon and carry a nice hint of ginger as well. I liked the fact that the fruit was substantial enough that you could actually chew the little apple pieces, but not so big that you felt they hadn't cut them up enough. The yogurt is a little runny and also a bit sweeter than I'd like. I think that is because this uses Sucralose artificial sweetener and it can pack a harder punch. However, I'm sure it is what keeps the calories down.

I'm rather torn about this one because I thought it was fine, but I'm not sure that I'd buy it again. The main issues I have with it is that the lemon and ginger is a little too intense in a way which  makes it seem almost "perfumey" and it is a bit too sweet. That being said, as a run-of-the-mill fruit yogurt option, this is certainly fine. However, given a choice between this and the "Apple Pie" Night-time Sweets yogurt, I'd take the latter any day. It has a better sweetness balance, the cinnamon works well in it and has the same number of calories as this ginger and lemon apple yogurt.