Poteko Cherry Blossom Salt Potato Rings and Calbee Sea Salt Hard Chips

I'm continuing my brisk jaunt through the box of snacks ZenPop sent me with two of the salted potato snacks. Besides being made of potato and containing salt, they really don't have much in common, but it's not like I'm matchmaking them or engaging in little mock wedding ceremonies where in which I put a tiny veil on the rings and a bow tie on the chips - at least not yet. Constructing these things takes time.

The first time I tried Himalayan sea salt, I wondered why anyone would like the taste and smell of sulfur on their food. Sure, it's pink and looks pretty, but - at least to my taste buds - it added nothing to the experience and really took things away. I dismissed it as one of those things all the cool kids were into because other cool kids told them to be into it.

As weird as I found Himalayan sea salt to be, the sakura (cherry blossom) salt on Tohato's potato rings is like a mutant version of salt. Maybe it was formed when Godzilla was percolated decades ago. When I opened the bag, the smell was strongly cherry-blossom-like. It just did not fit the sense of what should come with a potato snack.

Smell isn't everything though. People who eat Durian know that. Taste is where it's at. Unfortunately, this didn't fare much better on the taste front. The first ring is especially odd as it hits you full force with the cherry-like flavor of the salt. After you eat a few, you get a little acclimated and it's more of a bad aftertaste that you tolerate.

I'm not sure what Tohato was thinking with this one. I guess that the fact that this is a holiday release connected to the "doll's festival" for girls (hinamatsuri) made them think the whole cherry blossom concept was a good one. They should have saved it for their sweet snacks rather than Poteko.

While the Poteko aren't inedible, they aren't nearly as much fun as they should be. I'm giving them a little credit there. I think the best use for these is to take them around to your unsuspecting friends and tell them it's a Japanese potato ring snack and ask them if they can guess what flavor it is. Have your camera ready because you'll want to catch the faces they make and post them on social media or future blackmail purposes.

The Calbee chips, by comparison, are a much tamer beast. The "hard" part comes from chips made with a thicker cut potato. Most Japanese potato chips are super thin, light and crispy. These are still crispy, but the bite is definitely less crumbly and more crunchy.

All Japanese potato chips have a particular fresh scent and taste which is unique and these have that going for them. I'm guessing this comes from the oil. However, the bag I had also had an unusual and not necessarily welcome. Honestly, it reminded me of sour milk. I don't know where that came from and I've never experienced that with Calbee's chips before. They're supposed to have Vitamin C added, which is also a bit strange. That might have something to do with it.

Poteko Cherry Blossom Salt:

Calbee Sea Salt Hard Chips:

Osaka Sikasen Mochi Assort

Nippon-ya did a survey and this box of sweets was their most popular. I can see why that is the case if only based on the packaging. It has beautiful wrapping and wrappers. The fact that I even think about things like that shows just how much I became affected by the culture of style over substance while living in Japan. I was once like you, dear reader, and felt that this sort of business that makes things look pretty was wasteful. What really matters is what is inside, right? Right?

I don't know if Japan changed me or if age did, but I really was excited to try these based on the variety of content as well as the packaging. The main difference between what I bought in Japan and these are that they are very, very small. In fact, I was stunned at how tiny they are as they are about half the size of what I'd get in Japan.

If nothing else, the packages are fairly descriptive of the contents so you don't have the same problem you have when deciding which chocolates have whatever filling in a box of candy in the U.S.

Anko (red bean paste):

This is the most old-fashioned of options for mochi so I didn't expect it to have an aroma, and it did not.  It's a classic pairing of flavorless, chewy mochi with red bean paste in the middle. Since these are small sweets, it's a little hard to know for sure, but I think this has tsubu an or coarse ("pebbly") bean paste in the middle. The mochi is nice and chewy and the powder on the outside makes it sweet before you taste the filling. The filling is earthy and slightly grainy. I noticed the "chew" on the mochi on this one was a bit tougher, but not in a bad way. It is just a bit thicker and less fine than in some other sweets. I liked this in the way that I like Reese's peanut butter cups. It's a classic, old-fashioned combo that hits familiar notes.

Shiro an (white bean paste):

This one was very similar to the anko one except the filling is finer, slightly sweeter, and less earthy. The "beany" nature just whispers at you rather than announces itself firmly and definitively. This is more of a textural pleasure than anything else. I love the feeling of the bean paste on my tongue and the chew of the mochi. However, this was definitely the least impressive flavor-wise of the bunch.

Sakura:

It's hard to believe that the Japanese don't use artificial colors when you see something like this sakura mochi. It's a bordering on radioactive pink. It's the kind of thing that even the most twee princess might find a bit much for her tastes. Nonetheless, I hear you can do marvelous things with beet juice, and perhaps that, rather than fallout from Fukushima, is responsible for the coloration.

The first thing I did was give this a whiff expecting it to smell heavily of "cherry blossom". It didn't smell like anything, surprisingly. The flavor, on the other hand, was very intense. It was quite sweet and very floral. In fact, the taste bordered on "soapy." I'm betting it wasn't even all that sweet, but that cloying flavor upped the sense of it being more sugary than it was. Sakura isn't generally my favorite, but I did enjoy the Sakura Harajuku mochi. This was okay, but definitely hit more of the notes that make sakura something I tend not to seek out.

Sesame:

This was the only mochi with a scent. In fact, as soon as I cut open the package, I smelled the sesame seeds. It smells awesome and the seeds lend a wonderful nutty flavor to the sweet. It also gives it a nice crunchy exterior. The first bite was completely overwhelmed by the sesame flavor, but the second brought out the beans. This was far and away my favorite of the group, though I can't say that I disliked any of them.

In terms of this assortment, the main point that I noticed is that the Harajuku Mochi was softer and fresher in feel, or made differently. These had a more elastic chew. I'm inclined to believe that they are just a differently made mochi because they seemed quite fresh. Mochi that is going stale tends to get a bit hard and these were in no way hard, though one of them had a few cracks in the side (not from drying out, but from torsion).

I liked this, and I do not regret buying it at all. It's a solid group of old-fashioned flavor combinations, but I probably wouldn't order it again for several years. One of the things that I heard time and again while binge-watching "The Great British Bake-off" was that, if you do a classic, it has to be superb and perfect. These are solid, but they are not superb and perfect. That being said, since I hadn't had these types of sweets for a long time, I was really grateful to have them on hand for the duration of the box. It'll just take awhile for nostalgia to enter the equation again. I also think that these are close to ideal if you want to give someone a box of manju as a souvenir or gift.

Where I bought it: Nippon-ya (San Francisco)

Weight: 14.5 oz.

Price: I don't recall exactly, but I think it was $14.95

Harajuku Mochi Chocolat Sakura

Natto is often considered to be the most unique and strange food experience when it comes to introducing Japanese cuisine to foreigners. It's stinky, sticky, and reminds you of mucous. While as a singular food, natto may indeed be one of the strangest things you can eat in Japan, there is a class of food that I discovered is a bit bigger and more broadly used than what I regard as its nearest Western cousin. That is a group of foods that, after processing, are fairly flavorless. 

My first experience with this came when I mentioned to a student that the chanko nabe (a sort of sumo wrestler's stew) that I'd had on my tour of a sumo stable had these weird little grey blocks with black specks in them that found distasteful in appearance. The student practically gushed about how wonderful konnyaku was and how much she loved it. She said it tasted so good and was really healthy. I told her I didn't eaten these little somewhat gelatinous blocks because the reminded me of frog's eggs and asked what they tasted like. She paused and said, "They don't taste like anything."

Such was my experience in Japan with certain foods. People would tell me something was fantastic, but it didn't taste like much of anything. That included jiggly blocks of pale tofu, konnyaku, and mochi. While we have bland foods in the U.S. (potatoes, rice), we don't have foods that are processed and end up flavorless with the exception of gelatin... at least not that I can think of. And, even if we do have such foods, we lack the same level of enthusiasm that I saw for them in Japan. 

Most of these foods are about their texture as well as the flavors that they can absorb from other ingredients. It took me awhile to come around to enjoying such foods, but it helps that I'm a texture junky. Mochi in particular is very much about how it stretches and the sort of chewy, softness it offers. Fresh mochi is amazing. Stale stuff is inedible. When you order shelf-stable sweets like this Harajuku Mochi Chocolate, there is always a risk that it'll be tough as you don't know how long it has been sitting around or how well it is packed. I'm pleased to say that this much have industrial strength oxygen absorber packets and is sealed well. 

The mochi comes in a square box with a little plastic two-pronged fork so you can stab the hands of people who try to eat your delicious, delicious mochi without piercing the skin and risking a lawsuit. Though there are ample numbers of pieces, they are quite small. Each is a little bigger than a quarter and fairly thin as mochi goes. The "chocolate" is a soft, creamy white substance that runs thinly through the center. When you eat it, it imparts sweetness, but there is too little to get a good sense of flavor or creaminess. 

Each bit of mochi is a soft little pillow that is somewhat chewy, but easy to bite into. Even after I'd opened the package and consumed the mochi over several weeks, they remained fresh to the last morsel. The first hit on your tongue is sweetness, perhaps from the coating which could be cornstarch mixed with powdered sugar. It could also just be that the filling is spread evenly enough and is sweet enough to leave a lasting impression.

The second bite is more floral and yields more cherry notes. On the back-end of a tasting, it can even leave a whisper of herb-like and slightly medicinal flavor, but not in a negative way. As mochi goes, this is fairly flavorful, sweet without being cloying. Of course, mochi often lacks a very strong flavor so saying it is "flavorful" isn't meant to convey that it's a flavor-blasted experience, but just that it is present.

In terms of how I liked this, I liked them very well and was happy to have tried them. That being said, I mainly chose these because it is spring and sakura is a seasonal flavor that won't be around in several months. I likely would not buy them again as I regard this more as a curiosity purchase than a standard snack that I'd like to have again. If you enjoy sakura's cherry and floral notes, then you likely will enjoy this more than me (and I did enjoy them). If not, you may want to try a flavor more akin to your tastes like chocolate or green tea.

Where I bought it: Nippon-ya (San Francisco)

Weight: 10.2 oz.

Price: $9.95

Tirol Sakuramochi Chocolate

You probably don't know this, but the packaging on this candy is attempting to pander to different regional audiences. You also probably don't care, but it's my job to, as the tag line says, "tell you more than you need to know about Japanese junk food." It's not just my blog's motto. It's my lifestyle.

Let's start with what sakuramochi is. It's a Japanese sweet which has red bean paste in the middle and is surrounded in some fashion by rice cake - not the sort of rice cake that Quaker sells in stores which looks like popcorn that has been fused together in some sort of horrible industrial accident and tastes like Styrofoam packing peanuts. No, no. This is Japanese stuff, mochi, which is rice pounded into a stretchy, somewhat taffy-like substance which people can more easily choke to death on (especially old folks).

At any rate, there are two styles of sakuramochi pictured on the lower right of the package. The rolled up one with what looks like a bit of a turd poking out (such elegant prose from my keyboard) is Tokyo- or Kanto-style. The kind that looks like an innocent pink blob of fuzz is Kansai-style. Each has a sakura leaf wrapped around it. Mainly, they have textural and aesthetic differences, or at least I think that is the case because the truth is that I never ate sakuramochi in Japan. I ate plenty of wagashi (Japanese sweets) and lots of mochi and red bean stuff, but never that particular type. So, I'm not going to be checking this candy for verisimilitude to the real thing. I'm guessing that is actually for the best.

This is, obviously, one of the spring releases from Tirol. Well, it's obvious to me because spring is when everything "sakura" pops out of the marketing woodwork in Japan. It's all green tea and sakura now, with great lashings of strawberry thrown in for good measure. It's a thing in Japan. It's similar to how pumpkin flavored everything starts flooding the market in July in anticipation of Halloween in October and how it sticks around until March of the following year because they can't possibly sell a million products in pumpkin flavor in the span of time that encompasses the winter holidays.

At any rate, I didn't know exactly what flavor to expect from this, but the smell caught me by surprise. When I gave it a good whiff, it smelled distinctly of red beans. There really wasn't much else to smell. The first bite into the candy yielded a moderate amount of red beans with some flowery sakura flavor. As I chewed into the little gummy center, the bean flavor asserted itself much more strongly. It tapered off and revealed a fairly sweet taste at the finish that developed the sakura flavor a bit more and made it border on, but not cross over the line into being "perfumey". The final taste left in my mouth was a mixture of both the red bean and sakura.

For a tiny little candy (33 calories, about the volume of a Hershey's kiss), this packs some complexity both in terms of flavors and textures. The chocolate part on the outside is soft and yielding. The gummy is quite chewy, bordering on a little bit too hard to bite into. There are earthy, sweet, and perfume-like elements, but you have to either eat slowly and pay attention or eat more than one to really pick up on the multiple subtle flavors.

This is not the sort of candy that you eat to stuff your pie-hole with sweeties. It's the sort of thing you eat for a unique experience. You pair it with tea, one little package next to your cup, and take the tiniest bite possible and try to discern the mysteries in your mouth. Take a drink of tea and give it another go. Repeat until you're done.

This is a good candy in a way, and a less good candy in another. It's one of those things which you would never find in the U.S. because it's complex and not necessarily easily accessible by most palates. This doesn't make it a bad thing at all, but it does make it something that you absolutely have to either already have a taste for or be in the mood for. I'm glad I bought this, especially at the relatively modest price of $2.19 at Nijiya Japanese market (for an eight-piece bag). However, I would not buy another. Once is enough.

McDonald's Sakura Burger

Recently, I conducted a Skype lesson with one of my former face to face students from Japan. She pointed out to me that my picture for Skype was the McDonald's Sakura burger. I told her that it was an ancient picture that I really should change. The reason I put it up there was that I had the picture on my desktop, likely for this blog (though I think I never used it). My student pointed out that this burger was being re-released, so I checked it out and, it is back (released March 21).

The burger is supposed to have a "faint cherry scent" and you can see that the bun has some pink in it. The meat is a pork patty and it includes teriyaki sauce and an egg (it's called sakura teri tama - cherry teriyaki egg). The sauce is mayonnaise based and also includes ginger. Frankly, it all sounds like a real mess of flavors which probably don't have a good chance of meshing. I wouldn't touch this burger with a ten-foot-pole, but then I wouldn't touch any fast food burger. If you give this a try, let me know if all of the flavors play nice together.

Starbucks Sakura Chocolate Latte (product announcement)

You know that spring is on its way in Japan when the "sakura" (cherry blossom or cherry depending on the entity that distributes it) foods start popping up. In my buffer, I have a post I've been sitting on which talks about seasonal flavors and sakura is definitely a harbinger of the end of winter. Starbucks is launching a very pink-looking beverage the day after Valentine's day. You'd think they'd do it before, but I believe this is a way of appealing to palates that are tired of all that chocolate. This is cherry and white chocolate with strawberry-flavored candy bits on the top. While I have to admit that the colors are beautiful, this is the sort of thing I'd avoid because I'd expect the fruit flavors to create a strange melange and the white chocolate to make it too sweet. 

Haagen-Dazs Sakura and Rose Ice Cream (product announcement)

I've been watching some "documentary" shows as of late. One of my favorite series is BBC period "farm" and lifestyle shows in which some anthropologists find a homestead in England which still resembles the type that was lived in in a bygone era and work the land and home in the fashion of a particular time. So far, I've seen a series on Edwardian and medieval farms and have started another on World War II era living.

One of the things I've learned is the rose flavoring used to be a pretty big deal. Medieval folks ate flowers and others consumed rose hips. During World War II, when it was hard to come by fruit-based sources of Vitamin C, rose hips kept scurvy at bay.

I don't know about the history of eating flowers or flower-flavored items in Japan, but I do know that I was never a fan of "sakura" flavored food and it made an appearance every spring - hand in hand with all of the talk of cherry blossom viewing. I'm sure that Haagen-Dazs Japan has chosen these flavors based on the time of year and that they will appeal to young women mainly. That delicate and ornate font as well as the pretty flowers make it rather unlikely that the average businessman will be chowing down on one of these at his desk during tea time.

Yamagata Sakurambo (Cherry) KitKat

One of the things you can either love or hate about life in Japan are regional foods designed to be area-specific souvenirs. If you travel a fair amount, you can show your coworkers and friends that you thought enough of them to bring back something unique from the place that you visited. They can enjoy a treat which they know could not be purchased anywhere else.

Since I don't travel much in Japan anymore, I haven't been reviewing the regional KitKat variations. That being said, I live in Tokyo and haven't done the Tokyo-specific ones either, but that's because you don't see them just anywhere. Mainly, people get them at Narita airport. I didn't get these KitKats by traveling to Yamagata. I got them because Helen at La Vida Loca very generously bought them and sent them to me. Otherwise, well, I wouldn't be reviewing my very first Japanese regional KitKat in the history of this blog. Thank you so much, Helen!


Since this is my first experience with regional KitKats, I was impressed by the packaging. The boxes are set up so that you can easily open it and present the bars for people around the office to take. The box is also a nice size because it's compact and easy to carry in a briefcase or backpack. It neatly stores 12 mini bars. While most of the writing is in Japanese, there is English written on one side which says "Tohoku Limited" and " Japanese Cherry Flavor", so they are clearly designed for foreign tourists to buy as souvenirs as well as for domestic travelers.


The bars smell pleasantly of cherry and have a good mild cherry flavor with a bit of a hit of citric-acid-like bite at the end. It's not too sweet or flowery. The fact of the matter is that I like vaguely floral flavors in some fruit-flavored sweets and this strikes a good balance for my tastes in that regard. It's enough for interest, but not enough to make you think you're noshing on a bar of soap. While these bars were similar to the previous limited edition Sakurambo KitKats, they aren't exactly the same. I think the tart finish at the end of the non-Yamagata variety was a bit more intense and these are a little sweeter.

I would definitely recommend picking up a box of these if you find yourself in Yamagata. I think they'd make a beautiful and tasty souvenir for folks back home. The fact that Japan is associated with cherry blossoms and these are cherry flavor is icing on the cake.

Tirol Sakura (Cherry) Mochi Premium Chocolate

When I saw this little square of chocolate for 30 yen in a Family Mart convenience store, I was happy to see another "mochi" version of a Tirol candy. For those who don't know it already, Tirol sells small square candies either as part of variety or multi-packs or "premium" candy in 1 inch square (2.54 cm) sizes. The ones in the variety pack are about the same volume as a Hershey's Kiss, perhaps a bit bigger. The premium ones are about 1/3 larger than the small versions and sell for 30-40 (about 35-40 cents) yen each.

I'm pretty sure that this newest flavor was released to cater to the Valentine's Day buyers as well as get a leg up on spring-themed treats since "sakura" is cherry and cherry blossoms are all over the package.


The premium candies are molded with different designs on them. There are only 5 picture designs, a rocket ship, house, clock, car, and an airplane, and a basic checkerboard pattern. I think this is a good reflection of the fact that the companies earlier offerings were geared mainly at kids, but I believe the premium flavors may be equally oriented at the adult market, particularly the sweets hungry "office lady" (OL) crowd.


The top of the candy is pale pink tinted white chocolate with what I'm guessing are supposed to be little specs of cherry. The base appears to be regular milk chocolate. Inside, is the "mochi" gummy center which is a brownish blob. I was disappointed that there was no flavored "sauce" on the top as there has been in some other Tirol premium candies.

The candy smells like cheap cherry-scented perfume or air freshener. It's not a good smell. Unfortunately, it tastes like overly sweet cheap cherry perfume or soap. The coating is soft and carries all of the flavor. The chewy gummy center doesn't have much taste at all.

This was really quite dreadful, and a huge disappointment. I'm pretty tolerant of strong flavors and tend to favor them over bland ones. I also like cherry quite a lot, but this was a real failure in flavor balance. This is probably one of the worst things I've ever had and tops the Oshiruko KitKat as my most disliked snack food. I guess that means I'd rather eat a moldy sock over a bar of soap, not that that's a competition I'd relish taking part in.