Nongshim Banana Kick Snack

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Random Picture #215

I'm a big fan of Pucca cookies/chocolate delivery system and I was happy to see a new flavor on the shelves. Unfortunately, the flavor on the right, which is the new one, is "banana au lait". I'm guessing the "au lait" means "milk". Infusing banana flavor into any sweet is risky as even real banana can come across as a chemical monstrosity through the magical alchemy of processing a food into a shelf stable substance. Since I really don't want to find a reason to dislike Pucca, I decided to pass on this one for the time being. 

Nestle Strawberry Cheesecake Crunch Mini bars (product announcement)

Image from Nestle Japan's web site.

On June 9, Nestle Japan will release a strawberry cheesecake version of their Crunch bars. This is marginally more interesting than a similar type of KitKat, but only mainly because they haven't saturated the Crunch bar market with varied flavors as they have their darling KitKats.

You may wonder why they're showing ice cream on the front of the package when this is a cheesecake flavor. In honor of the changing of the season from wet, humid, and uncomfortably warm to unbearably hot, humid, and somewhat less wet, they are advocating that you freeze the bars to give you a more pleasant experience. If you'd like to pick up a bag, they're retailing for 500 yen (about $5), but it's likely that you can get them for around 350 yen at most markets or discount snack shops.

My guess is these will taste pretty much like the strawberry cheesecake KitKats. I'll pass, thank you.

Fujiya Milky Mont Blanc Chocolate

I have reached an important conclusion about the Fujiya brand's versions of chocolate. Well, it's not important in a global sense. It certainly isn't going to impact climate change, cure cancer, or end starvation. It's also not important in a local sense. It won't end the California drought or lower the local taxes. No, it's only important in helping my readers relate to the status of this particular brand in Japan relative to the status of a similar brand in the U.S. Saying it like that sort of undermines the sense of my conclusion having any importance at all, even in my estimation. Oh, well.

At any rate, despite the less than earth-shattering nature of my revelation, I will finally offer it. Are you ready? Fujiya is the Hershey's of Japan. By that I mean that they make sub-standard chocolate products which are popular mainly because their taste is familiar, their packaging and logo can be related to, and their mascot a long-standing icon in the culture. Their products aren't great, but people know them so they like them.

This is not exactly a criticism of Fujiya. I like Hershey's kisses despite their chalky texture and sour milk/yogurt-like flavor profile and less than endearing chocolate notes. You can enjoy something and recognize that it's not the greatest quality version of that item on the market. Bad pizza is a case in point. I love bad pizza because it is familiar to me as someone whose mother would purchase an enormous quantity of bread-like squares with some form of ketchup and vegetable-based cheese-like product on it. It was a fast food meal from our freezer that provided a welcome alternative to the disgusting sloppy mess of canned vegetables, stacks of day-old white bread, and meat stuffs cooked into a grey, tough mass that my mother used her very special culinary skills to create. Yes, I like things because they were introduced to me in my childhood when I had a very different frame of reference.

The chocolates look cute with the adorable little embossed faces.

You may guess from that introduction that this box of twelve "Milky" mont blanc (a chestnut-paste-based dessert pictured on the lower right of the product's box) candies let me down. Indeed, it did. There is a particular flavoring in all of the Milky chocolates which I am not a fan of. I don't know what it is, but it is like the sour milk flavor in Hershey's chocolates. You either like it or you don't, and I don't.

The bigger sin than this weird taste is that the chestnut/mont blanc component, which was the part of this candy which compelled me to buy it at Nijiya market for about $2.20 (224 yen), is quite weak. It tastes a little like caramel at first, but it dissipates too quickly to really detect any greater depth of flavor. Mostly, you're just getting the very soft, fatty weird chocolate exterior. I should note that this is not because it is fake chocolate, or at least I think it's not. Fujiya uses cocoa butter and cacao mass. It also uses vegetable oil and "artificial flavor", which may account for the strange taste that I dislike. This is not horrible by any stretch of the imagination, but I'll turn to this when I'm out of other candy or want a tiny portion (each square is 20 calories) and only have big amounts on hand.

I have to try to remember that I don't care much for Fujiya's products. I buy them so infrequently that I forget and make mistakes like buying this. That being said, the chestnut part would probably have sucked me into buying it even if I remembered Fujiya's freaky chocolate recipe. Besides, if I keep eating it, I may get used to it and actually learn to like it. It worked with Hershey's, after all. 

Meiji Gummy Choco Candy

Nuts, corn flakes, bananas, wafers, rice puffs and crisps, potato chips, coffee beans, and grasshoppers. No, this is not a game of "one of these things is not like the other". These things are actually all alike in a particular way. All of them, including the grasshoppers, can be purchased in chocolate-covered fashion. I thought about all of the things which you can buy covered in chocolate which may or may not naturally seem a pairing with it when I pondered the idea of chocolate-covered gummy candy.

Today's reviewable comes to you (and me) courtesy of CandyWarehouse at which you can not only buy the chocolate-covered gummy candy, but also a variety pack of insects enrobed in thick chocolatey goodness. The notion does bring to mind the "crunchy frog" sketch in Monty Python, but it may seem far less alien in the future than it does now as I hear that we may have to utilize insects for protein when civilization falls in the next 50 years or so. When that time comes, you'll think that chocolate-covered gummy will be a gourmet memory and in no way inferior to any of the other more common suspects.

This isn't chocolate in the conventional sense as it's not the brown stuff, but rather fruit-flavored white chocolate. The three flavors are strawberry, muscat, and orange. The first and last seemed rather promising as those flavors pair well with conventional chocolate, but I was dubious of the muscat flavor.

After opening the tube, I was hit with an intense fruity smell. It was surprisingly strong. After sampling each flavor, I discovered why. Each of them tastes like a child's bubblegum flavor infused into white chocolate. It is too intense and fake-tasting. The weird thing is that fruit juice concentrates as well as various fruit liquors are used to flavor these. The flavors come from real sources, but it's all a bit too intense for my tastes.

Of the three, the one that was the least palatable was the muscat. I know muscat isn't the same as grapes, but they are similar. Chocolate-covered raisins work, but have you ever seen or tried a fresh grape as part of a chocolate fondue? I'm guessing not and for good reason. The two flavors just did not mesh.

The strawberry was intense at first and ended with a strong white chocolate sweetness. It worked okay, but it was like two flavor blasts and neither was particularly tasty. On the bright side, the textural contrast of the soft, creamy chocolate and the chewy gummy was pleasant.

Orange is the flavor that I would expect the most from, but it also was far too strong. It reminded me of flavor-blasted baby aspirin. I guess that all of that fruit flavor really is packed in there.

I admire the effort put into these, and the truth is that my husband liked them. He said that the flavor really got more intense once all of the chocolate melted away, but he still liked it. I wouldn't say he loved it, and I don't think he'd go out of his way to get them again, but he will finish the tube. As for me though, I'm not going to eat more of them so that's an "unhappy" rating is for me and a "happy" one for him. He said he likes the taste and the overall experience are good for him, which is weird because he generally dislikes gummy candy of any sort. I actually like gummy candy and even have experience with chocolate-covered gummy (via Tirol's "mochi" chocolates which are actually gummy).

So, the bottom line is that how you'll feel about this is going to vary based on your tastes. I'm going to give it the two ratings it deserves.

For me:

For my husband: