Mizuho Arare Handmade Sembei (Wasabi)

Have you ever purchased a blueberry waffle, blueberry muffin mix, or any commercially produced product which is blueberry flavored? If you've done so, there's a very high chance that the product you've consumed contains no blueberries whatsoever. Most "blueberry" is candies that are flavored to taste like the real thing, but actually have little to do with it. That's because real blueberries are expensive, not particularly sweet, and troublesome to handle in their fresh state (as they will mold or go bad rapidly).

Most people don't realize when they're being sold something as something it's not. Even when they learn the truth, if they're satisfied with the taste, they generally don't care. I think the same might be said for the often faked flavor of wasabi. I've read that most wasabi in the United States is colored horseradish. I have no idea if it is fundamentally different in taste, but I'm guessing it may be different in terms of the overall flavor depth and the experience of eating wasabi.

I've said before that wasabi is different from other spicy flavors (that's spicy in terms of being "hot") in that it burns the back of your nasal passages. Intense wasabi will punch you, literally, in the back of your nose. These rice crackers can be a full freaking assault to your entire nasal system. I found that the intensity varies, but if you get a particularly potent one, it will flood your nasal passages from back to front in a flash of painful intensity and hit the back of your throat for good measure. By random chance, if you get one of the less intense ones, it'll just offer a strong, but relatively closer to average hit toward the back.

The nuggets offer a bit more than just the pain that can accompany wasabi. They smell vaguely of soy sauce and have a nice savory undertone that lingers on the middle of your tongue quite awhile after you've recovered from the wasabi attack. The saltiness and overall savory nature is undercut by the presence of sugar. If you've ever made soup and added a little sugar to it (the Japanese often do), you'll note that it'll mellow out any too sharp flavors. Incidentally, sugar is the third ingredient in these after glutinous rice and soy sauce (and before "wasabi powder"). If you're watching your sugar intake, these may not be the best choice.

The texture of these is hard and crunchy. "Arare" sembei is denser, less airy and spongey, and crispier than what is often called "soft" or "fluffy" sembei. I think these are designed to be enjoyed mainly with drinks, particularly alcohol, but anyone who likes wasabi can dive in without potential inebriation to off-set the nasal beating.

I only paid $1.50 for these at Daiso Japan, and I'm torn about whether I'd get them again. I like them quite a lot in terms of the taste and they are made with real wasabi. However, when I hit a powerful piece, it truly is a bombastic experience in my nasal cavities. It reminds me a bit of snorting soda through my nose and not in any way pleasant. I'm not sure if the price I may pay in pain is worth the experience, but I'd probably go for another round of these in the future after I had forgotten that some nuggets are more pain than pleasure.

Glico Chubu Regional Pretz - Wasabi flavor

I would think that Glico ripped off Nestle's concept of issuing regional varieties of various foods if it weren't for the fact that I know the notion of regional specialty snacks almost certainly pre-dates Nestle's existence as a company. In fact, I wouldn't be surprised if it goes back hundreds of years in Japan (if not further). At any rate, the marketing concept seems certainly to be a similar one, and I believe it works much better for pretzels than for chocolate. You can make a pretzel savory or sweet without going through the looking glass. You can't really do that with chocolate, though Nestle Japan sure did try.

I rarely know off the top of my head why a certain flavor is paired with a certain region. For instance, I still don't know why rum raisin KitKats were paired with Tokyo as it is not famous for it's rum or grapes/raisins. It turns out that Nagano, which is in Chubu, is famous for wasabi so that is where this notion comes from. Prior to this, I just thought of Nagano as the place where everyone does snow sports. At any rate, wasabi is grown in various places including Tohoku so it is a very flexible choice for a regional Pretz.

I've tried wasabi Pretz before, but they were not a regional variety. As is so often the case, I believe that there is little or no difference between regional versions and regular versions of the same flavor. I knew when I bought these that they may be the same thing that I tried before in different packaging. As it turns out, I'm largely right, though there is a superficial difference which makes it questionable that these are, indeed, the same pretzel sticks.

In terms of the tasting experience, these are the same as far as my tongue can recall. They have the grassy flavor of wasabi and give a bit of a burn on the back of the tongue as a secondary flavor. By about the fifth stick, you're getting that familiar discomfort at the back of your nasal passages. Continuing onward from that point only makes the effect stronger. The sticks are fresh and crispy, but don't have the effect of shattering that you get from brittle bready pretzels. I wouldn't be surprised if these include more delicate layers of fat between the flour. These are tasty, savory, and just salty enough without being too much of anything.

The only difference that I can tell between these wasabi Pretz and the ones I tried before is that the others were tinted green and these were not. I don't know if that means some coloring was added before or if coloring was somehow removed this time. I can only say that it has no impact on anything other than aesthetics.

These are very fine flavored pretzel sticks and I can honestly say I'd buy them again since I believe I have already bought them twice now.

Random Picture #168

My mother was the type of person who thought a good souvenir was something which was trying hard to be clever, but actually was just really stupid. I'm not talking about things like an Eiffel Tower key chain, not that my very poor family ever went anywhere near France or anything. I'm talking more like a maternity T-shirt which says "Bahama Mama" in an attempt to make a lame wordplay on the idea of the drink and pregnancy. Yes, those are two great experiences that go great together, aren't they?

I think of things like wasabi caramels as the sort of thing people buy as a "bad souvenir" from Japan. I'm certain that they are not meant to be anything, but an interesting treat for Japanese people, but most Western folks are very preoccupied with anything that smacks as "weirdness" when it comes to Japanese food. Sugar? Wasabi? Sneak some to your coworkers when you get back from your foray into the land of the rising sun and watch the hilarity ensue! Guffaws, snorts of laughter, and a swift punch in the face for being such a supreme asshat could be yours for the price of some chewy globs mixed with wasabi powder.

Wasabi Pistachios

There's another blog out there called "The Japanese Snack Food Review" that predates my blog. I didn't know that it existed until after I had applied my unimaginative naming to my blog. The interesting thing about both blogs is that there is so little overlap in content. It's only on rather rare occasions that we have reviewed the same things. That just goes to show that there is an amazing wide world of junk food out there from Japan (and other parts of Asia) to go around such that a plethora of review blogs can't manage to educate you on the whole picture. Of course, I'm not saying that two blogs constitute a "plethora", but we're not the only two handling this vast and immensely important topic.

The reason I'm mentioning the other blog with a similar name is that this product made me think of it. "The Japanese Snack Food Review" hasn't updated in awhile, or I would have thought of it because of having read a review. While I have smiling, grimacing or frowning sumo faces as my review system, that blog uses wasabi peas. I've never actually consumed a wasabi pea, but these wasabi pistachios come close and they reminded me of that other blog. It makes me think that I should actually try a wasabi pea one of these days.

Regarding the matter at hand, these wasabi pistachios, they come to me courtesy of Madison Vigil, who is selling and distributing these at this web site. When you go on over and have a peak, don't look too closely at the mascot. Their karate kid with a pistachio head demonstrating that these are "The Nut With A Kick" looks like it came out of a David Lynch movie. In fact, now that I've said that, I wonder if Mr. Lynch will do some vanity searching, find this reference and contact the maker of this snack for permission to make a movie starring "pistachio head". It'll be the surreal tale of a sentient nut that meanders a Dali-esque landscape  searching for his parents, a pistachio tree and a vegan lesbian who somehow merged during an electrical storm on a night in which a harmonic convergence occurred while eating screaming brazil nuts. Or something.

Now that you have that image in your head, let's talk salty snack food. When that movie (inevitably) gets made, you'll need something appropriate to crunch on while you're watching the disturbing images play out before you. This is definitely the right choice when it comes to that. There are 25 single-serving packets in the tub, so do take a group of friends to the world premiere. The small portions are something you should be happy for two reasons. First of all, they are pretty calorific at 152 calories per 1 oz/28 g serving. Second, too much wasabi at once is going to punch a hole through the back of your sinuses and climb up into your brain and set it alight (I'm sure that'll be in the David Lynch movie as well).

The first thing I did was open the packet and give it a sniff and these smell great. The mixture of the scent of pistachios and wasabi is a lovely one. I placed one on my tongue and let it's heat play for a bit until it smacked my nasal passages so abusively that I had to give in and bite into one. That taste yielded the familiar chlorophyll notes of wasabi coupled with the warm and fatty nature of the pistachio. There is also some well-balanced saltiness and sweetness. The flavor profile is definitely complex if you give it time to unfold. If you just chow down on them like a crunchy addictive snack food, I'm guessing they'll just seem pretty hot, nutty and sweet at the same time. I do recommend, however, that you try to slow down and enjoy them properly.

While most of these did a proper wasabi punch on my senses (oh, my sinuses!), an occasional nut seemed not to have quite the same effect. I'm not sure if that was acclimation of my senses, or if the heat-producing elements aren't absolutely evenly distributed. The truth is that it is almost welcome if it's inconsistent because these are fairly potent in the best way, but also in the way that the heat can layer on and build up a bit. A little "rest" isn't necessarily a bad thing.

I really enjoyed these, and appreciated the sample sent to me to review. If you're a wasabi and pistachio fan, you can buy your own tub for $9.50 at their web site. My only reservation is that they are pretty fattening, and it's really easy to just lose track and eat several packets. There are certainly worse things for one to worry about in life than getting fat on wasabi pistachios.

Glico Wasabi Pretz

Today, the "s" key on my keyboard stopped functioning. As I looked at my puny buffer of posts on this blog, I pondered how things have changed since I started it. When I first started this reviews blog, I often had a buffer of nearly 2 months. In fact, it was so large that I was worried that, by the time the posts appeared, some of the food would be off the market. Now, I'm lucky to have the next week covered. That means that having a keyboard that is out of commission actually might mean an interruption in posting.

To combat this dire turn of events, I fished around in the closet for an old PC keyboard that might work on my Mac Mini. Lo and behold, I found a Japanese USB keyboard which was insufferably awful but worked on a Mac. When I say it's "awful", I mean because the keys are oriented differently and there are extra keys. Also, it's like typing on an old typewriter in terms of the feedback and touch. So, if I make more mistakes in my blog posts than usual (quite a feat in and of itself), blame the fact that I'm working with a keyboard handicap.

It's my intense dedication to bringing you, my wonderful readers, a post every weekday that has me slaving away at substandard equipment. Fortunately, I have the kick of wasabi to fuel my fingers as they are forced to hammer extra hard at the chunky keys I am working with. That makes me think that there should be a product out there with a mascot called "super wasabi monkey" that eats horseradish snacks and becomes charged up. I guess that sounds too much like Popeye with his spinach, but, hey, monkey! He should wield a wasabi root, and wear an eyepatch.

Getting to the pretzels I'm here to review, I picked these up at Okashi no Marche super discount snack shop for a mere 50 yen (62 cents), marked down to about half of their usual price. This gets you two foil packets of about one ounce (27.5 grams) of green pretzels. If you snarf down a whole packet, you're putting away 137 calories.

The pretzels smell a bit funky, but they taste very good. They have just enough of a grassy, chlorophyll taste to add a savory depth, but not enough to make you feel like your chewing on a leaf stem. They burn the lips a bit, and build up a little  heat on the back of the tongue and nasal passages, but it's a little flare of heat that dissipates rather than builds up. That being said, the "kick" grows with every bite, but it never does the searing burn that chili peppers or jalepenos manage with prolonged consumption.

These are nice, flavorful pretzels with much more complexity than most. The thing which is rather neat about it is that they get that depth without resorting to piling on a ton of flavor powder. The pretzels themselves are crispy, but just a delivery mechanism for the flavor. They're lightly salted, but that works well with the wasabi. If you're a fan of wasabi otherwise, I think these will be a delight. I think they'd make a great movie viewing snack, but would recommend a beverage along with them to slow down the heat build-up.

Meiji Snow Wasabi Baby Cheese

If I didn't write this blog, there is every chance that my 4:00 pm snack each and every day would consist of a small portion of some type of cheese and some sort of accompanying salted snack (crackers, pretzels, etc.). Frankly, there is little that I find more satisfying for me than this pairing. I'll take this savory combo over sweets most days. I'm guessing this is part of getting older and having moldering taste buds that can detect only stronger flavors, like the pungency of cheese and the heavy salt of a cracker or other such like.


These packets of small processed cheese blocks are sold in supermarkets and convenience stores all over Japan. They usually cost 100-150 yen depending on the brand and the number of blocks in the pack. This one was 100 yen ($1.20) at Seiyu supermarket. There are four 18-gram (.63 oz.) servings and each is 57 calories. There are usually salami, almond, and various fortified flavors (added Iron or Calcium). This wasabi version isn't incredibly common, and appealed to me because I like things like jalapeno cheddar back home. I like the combination of spiciness with the coolness of cheese.

When I peeled back the foil, I was disappointed to see that there weren't little green bits of wasabi embedded in the cheese. The ingredients list reveals that powdered wasabi was used to flavor it. That isn't necessarily a bad point, but from an aesthetic point of view (and that does play a role in enjoying food).

These don't smell like much. They have the same bland aroma of processed cheese. The cheese flavor is not particularly strong. It comes across as more like cream cheese that operates as a base for the wasabi flavor. The wasabi is fairly well-balanced and is neither too strong nor too weak and the cheese seems to stop it from doing the usual punch to the back of the sinuses that I get from wasabi.

If you're a fan of wasabi, this makes a nice accompaniment to a pretty bland cracker. It's compact and easy to serve, which makes it more convenient than squeezing wasabi paste and placing cheese individually on a cracker, but it is a little expensive for what you're getting. Still, it's nice to keep on hand as a quick and handy snack, especially in your office refrigerator.

Bakauke Sea Salt Wasabi Sembei

The company that makes "Bakauke" brand products is now called "Befco". Hearing that name reminds me of Back to the Future 2 and the "Biffco Enterprises" in that movie. I think the name change is the result of the brands growing market penetration and popularity. Their web site has also seen some improvements since I last looked in on it.

This is actually the second Bakauke wasabi sembei that I've reviewed. The other one was a limited edition that was sold only in convenience stores and is no longer available. This version is a combined effort with a company that produces a brand of salt called Shimamaasu. This one also differs compared to the former wasabi sembei in that it includes nori in the dough.

The addition of nori changes the taste profile of this cracker by adding a grassiness to the flavor. It mainly comes through on the first bite and settles in as an aftertaste on the tongue after that. I can't say if the sea salt is adding much, but these are pleasantly salty and savory. The addition of soy sauce flavoring is probably helping that along.

The thing I can definitely say about these sembei is that they are for hardcore consumers of wasabi. Even one serving (2 crackers - 38.7 calories) provides a big wasabi punch. Unless I pause for a long time between crackers and drink between each bite, my nasal passages really burned from eating these. It was like someone sprayed the inside of my nose with lemon juice. It burns! It burns!

I found these at Okashi no Machioka snack shop for about 180 yen ($1.97). Each bag contains nine packets of two crackers. If you're a fan of wasabi, I can recommend these without reservation, but with the warning that they're not for the weak-tongued. These are a summer release, so I expect that they'll eventually disappear, so grab a bag while you can.

If you'd like to download a calendar for June featuring the bakauke cartoon mascots, you can get it here.

Wasabi KitKat

The wasabi KitKat is another of the regional specialties that Nestlé Japan ostensibly markets only in a particular area. This bar is a specialty of Shizuoka prefecture, and wasabi is chosen as a flavor because that area is known for its wasabi. A web site devoted to boasting of Shizuoka's benefits states that it is the birthplace of that root, and that wasabi is often used in things like ice cream, yookan (a sort of jellied bean paste loaf), and other sweets in addition to its more common use in things like sushi and savory dipping sauces. It also claims that only cool climates and clean water produce wasabi, which I guess that area must have, though those are hardly unique attributes.

I didn't go to Shizuoka, and I didn't buy these KitKats. No, I didn't pilfer them from some unsuspecting tourist returning from that region. One of my students went on a business trip to the area and kindly brought me some of the wasabi KitKats knowing my interest in Japanese snacks and that I write about such things for this blog. I asked her opinion of these, and she said that she felt that the wasabi flavor was so subdued as to not really amount to much. Her response, as well as the odd combination of something so often paired with savory foods with sweet white chocolate, piqued my interest all the more.

I can't give exact price information for these since I didn't buy them, but my husband says that a full box of regional KitKats (which can occasionally be bought at some shops in Shinjuku in Tokyo as well as Tokyo station and Narita airport) sells for 800 yen ($8.65) for 12 mini bars. One of the reasons that I have only reviewed one other regional KitKat is that I'm unwilling to pay a high price for a large portion of something I may not end up enjoying. I leave that up to Jen at Jen's KitKat blog as that is her sole oeuvre and I have far more competition for my snack-food yen.

These bars are 69 calories each, and pretty much in the range you'd expect calorie-wise for a KitKat mini. Because I only have the bars and not the box, I don't have an ingredients list, but I'm guessing that wasabi is pretty far down the list as it is not a strong component. The bar doesn't smell like wasabi at all. Mainly, it smells like white chocolate with something which is hard to pin down.

The first bite is dominated by the white chocolate sweetness followed by a sense of the grassy element of wasabi minus the heat. This isn't too surprising since wasabi's heat sometimes needs some build up to shine through. By the end of two bites, I had a stronger sense of the wasabi, but only the barest whisper of heat came through after I finished the bar. The warmth and grassy taste lingered in my mouth long after I finished the bar, but not in an extremely potent manner.

As a curiosity, this isn't bad, but it really isn't good either. The wasabi doesn't lend anything to the white chocolate in the pairing. It's a little like drinking Coke with a peanut butter sandwich. It's not gross or anything, but it's also not particularly great either. Unless you are looking for a novelty or are a serious fan of wasabi and absolutely must try everything you can get your hands on that showcases it, I wouldn't recommend buying this. Frankly, I'm really glad I got to try this because it's the sort of thing I want to do as a snack blogger, but only because I was given it as a gift. I'd certainly regret it if I bought a whole box of these.

Tyrant Habanero Wasabi Sticks

Sometimes I try something and I like it, but there are negative points to it such that I'm not likely to have it again despite actually enjoying it. That was my experience with these Tyrant Habanero Wasabi sticks. I liked them, but there were a few sticky points (not as in actually sticky) that make a revisit unlikely.

I bought these at the same time as the "Tyrant Habanero" garlic sticks at the same place, AM/PM convenience store. The size is the same, 35 grams (1.2 oz.), as are the calories at 175 for the whole bag. These are about 130 yen ($1.44) and have a similar list of ingredients to its brother product. The primary ingredient is potatoes and there are a ton of nice savory spices like garlic, onion, and meat-based flavorings. Of course, this one also includes wasabi.


Unsurprisingly, these smell like wasabi. The first bite is intensely strange and almost medicinal, but that blows off after you eat a few and then it's a nice wasabi flavor with consistent heat that starts to punch you in the back of the nose as you eat more. As is so often my experience with wasabi, it doesn't accumulate heat on your tongue, but punches you nasal passages. I strongly recommend a beverage to mitigate this effect to some extent. The texture is nice and crunchy, not too airy or dense, but there is a bit of a greasy sense underlying them. This greasiness was less present in the garlic version that I reviewed before.

I liked these, and I ate the whole bag at once, but the truth is that I wouldn't buy them again because of the weird medicinal starting flavor and the greasiness which coated my mouth for awhile after I finished. Those negative points overcame the positive ones of the nice taste, heat and texture.

Kameda Seika Wasabi Sembei

The inattentive eye probably will not pick up on this little detail, but the package above is open. I usually make an effort to take pictures of the packages before they are open, but I bought this while my husband was off in California visiting his family and he had my camera. I had to be careful about anything I bought during his absence due to not being able to get any snaps.


This wasabi sembei was actually one of the very few things I purchased while he was gone that was appropriate for this blog. I had planned to buy nothing while I was camera-less (and more woefully, husband-less), but I really had a hankering for some sembei and this looked pretty tasty. The generously sized (8 cm./3.2 in.) crackers are covered with little wasabi flakes. Each cracker is 58 calories.

The ingredients list is very long and includes a lot of different spices including various animal product extracts, garlic and onion powder, and, of course, wasabi. The crackers smell of garlic and that along with the wasabi is what hits you the strongest. The wasabi burns your tongue with a hard sting that dissipates fast. That makes it easier to go in for another round. The crackers are fresh and crispy with a very slightly oily exterior that keeps the wasabi flakes and other seasonings sticking to the cracker.

These are very good wasabi crackers and the only thing keeping me from giving them a "very happy" rating is that I wish they were just a little bit more savory and a little less intense on the wasabi. Of course, they are wasabi crackers so it makes sense that that would dominate, but the heat overwhelms the other flavors at times. When I was chewing, I mainly got the burn (and heat up the back of my nose) and the savory flavors tended to mainly linger on my tongue as an aftertaste. Still, all in a all a really good rice cracker which I'd recommend for fans of wasabi without reservation.

Kameida Seika Fried Wasabi Mochi Puffs

In Japan, no one sells peanut butter cups of any sort. I'm not talking about Reese's brand being absent, but rather no one has decided to offer a confection which mixes chocolate and peanut butter. This is, in part, because these two great tastes that taste great together don't seem like such a powerhouse combo to the Japanese palate. On the other hand, I'm guessing that mochi (rice pounded to a taffy-like state) and wasabi (Japanese horse radish) really are two great tastes that taste great together in the Japanese culinary mindset.


This is a wasabi version of a fried mochi puff that I previously reviewed and liked quite a lot. This bag is a bit smaller at 75 grams, and carries a less daunting total calorie count (429) because of the smaller size. I picked these up at a Lawson's 100 shop which seemed to have an explosion of 100 yen (about a dollar) bags of sembei which I previously could only locate in supermarkets.

These puffs look and smell very similar to the plain ones, which is to say they smell overwhelmingly like cooking oil. In the case of these ones, they were reminiscent of frying oil which has been used again and again. They also, to be honest, taste a lot like them once you get past the first two puffs. There was a bit of wasabi heat, but it was relatively subdued. I had hoped for a richer, more savory and spicy flavor because of the wasabi, but really all I was getting was a fantastic, crunchy texture with a bit of heat and a lot of oil.

I'm not sure what happened with these puffs that didn't happen with the ones I bought before, but I didn't like these as much as the other ones. My guess is that the oil used in the factory starts clean and then is used again and again and I may have gotten a batch which was fried near the end of the oil's usefulness this time whereas my previous experience was with puffs made in cleaner oil.

These were not bad at all, and I think I will slowly finish the bag, but the flavor was too weak and the oil flavor made them less appealing. I don't think I'll be buying them again because I can't trust that the oil issue won't be present again.

Wasabi Kaki No Tane Sembei

Advertising is an interesting art and science. I used to receive a menu for a Chinese restaurant that featured a dish which looked like a whole baby pig, snout to tail, had been roasted and was going to be served to the customer. That grossed me out so much that I never patronized them.

On bags of wasabi-flavored snacks, you often see a green, gnarled root with what looks like broken, scabbed over pustules on it. These roots have never really drawn me to wasabi products, though after seeing them enough, they haven't really repulsed me either. I guess it's a good indication of how cultural experiences shape your perceptions of what is and is not attractive food-wise.


Given my positive experience with Sweet Box's regular kaki no tane (persimmon seeds) with peanuts sembei, I scooped up this wasabi version at the local 100 yen shop. I figured that if the regular kind was good, a hotter, spicier version certainly couldn't be any worse. These Sweet Box packets of snacks are also great value with 6 packets and decent portion control at 120 calories each.


The first bite of these carries a nice hot hit of wasabi. Subsequent bites lack quite the same power, but there are still notes of the wasbi in there. My tongue must have grown accustomed to the flavor after awhile because the heat became more muted as I neared the end of the packet. It's interesting that my experience with these is the opposite of the regular version. The regular type gets hotter as you eat more. These get mellower as you eat more. I guess they use different types of peppers which affect the tongue differently.

I enjoyed these quite a lot. I'd certainly consider buying them again if I was in the mood for a savory peanut-including snack. I wish there was just a bit more wasbi flavor in them, but after my previous wasabi sembei experience, perhaps I should just be glad that it didn't start to burn the back of my nasal passages.

Bakauke Wasabi Sembei

When I was a kid, my parents used to go on and on about horseradish and how much they loved it. They'd keep jars of white pasty gunk in the refrigerator which smelled awful to me and tasted so overwhelmingly hot that I couldn't bear it.

After growing up, I grew to love really hot food, but I've lived in Japan for 20 years and have never eaten anything with Japanese horseradish (wasabi). I'm guessing part of the reason for this is that I haven't eaten much sushi and another part is that my husband can't bear super hot foods so anything we eat together can't be likely to leave scorch marks on his tongue.


This may come as a shock to many out there, but I just sort of forgot about the existence of wasabi in Japan. It's sold in root form or paste form here, but I am not big on condiments and I never notice the actual roots in produce sections (or they're not there). When I saw this packet of sembei at my local Family Mart, I remembered that 1) wasabi exists 2) I like hot foods and 3) I might like wasabi if I tried it.

This is a relatively small bag at 27 grams (.95 oz.). It has 122 calories and contains a nice amount of smallish (5.5 cm/2 in. x 2 cm./.8 in.) rice crackers liberally studded with wasabi. The portion is just about right for snacking without eating too many calories. I paid about 130 yen ($1.25) for it.

The first bite was intensely hot. The heat really seemed to hit near the front of my tongue. This is rather different from eating salsa which seems to affect the back, sides and center of my tongue. The heat mellows rather rapidly. It doesn't have the tendency to build up like capsicum-based heat does. It hits and passes. There's a hint of the vegetable flavor of wasabi root. It's hard to describe, but it's just the barest sense of chlorophyll or grassiness. It adds depth to the flavor along with the familiar taste of rice crackers.

The crackers themselves are fresh, crispy, and don't have the roasted or overcooked taste that some sembei does. These taste lighter. I ate the first half bag of these without a drink and it started to send the heat up the back of my nose. Once I started drinking between bites, that effect mellowed out. By the way, they're supposedly banana-shaped in order to make them easy to eat with one hand, though I've never had sembei which was so huge that I had to use both hands to eat it.

I really enjoyed these, and I wouldn't hesitate to have them again. They're quite hot, but that's to be expected. If you like wasabi, I wholeheartedly recommend trying these. If you just like hot foods, I think they're worth a one-time sample at the very least.

Incidentally, the two characters at the top of the bag that serve as the mascots are supposed to be a female named "Valine" (in red) and a male named "Borine" (in blue). The company's web site has peculiarly detailed bios for each character including hobbies, birth dates, dislikes, and family structure. Valine is a Virgo born on September 10 and Borine is an Aries born on April 15. I now know more about these characters's lives than I know about some of my friends.