Calpis KitKat Mini

This is a party which I am arriving very late at for various reasons. The primary one is that this particular mini, which is a collaboration between drink maker Calpis and Nestlé Japan, was available in limited stores (Family Mart was the only place I saw it on offer), it was only available as part of a 13-unit bag, and it was too expensive. Usually, I can get bags of mini bars for 199-250 yen ($2.27-$2.85) and I only saw this for 278 yen ($3.17). And I try to avoid buying a lot of something which is an unknown and of dubious taste value. Let's face it. This is the sort of thing which one could easily find oneself disliking.

Essentially, I was waiting for just the right opportunity to buy this, and one did not come along for quite some time. I don't know if this was one of the very few "under-produced" KitKat flavors or if it just sold so incredibly well that no leftovers made their way to the bargain shops, but I didn't find a discounted one for a few months. Most Japanese KitKat specialty flavors hit the bargain bins in a month or so and seem to sit there for quite awhile.

A new discount snack shop opened on the other side of my neighborhood, and one hot evening I chanced upon it. Bags of these bars were sitting nonchalantly in a cardboard box outside the shop for 199 yen ($2.27) each. The shop owner was very keen to be of service and as I wandered around his empty shop, he tried to foist samples of very familiar bubbly sembei on me. I declined, twice. Though I do like that sembei, I wasn't hungry. The shop also had free cold green tea on offer. I'll have to revisit them soon and see if their solicitous behavior is ongoing or just an opening gesture from a new shop.

Getting back to these KitKats, which are actually less interesting than the service I got at the shop, I didn't quite know what to expect from them considering that I've only had Calpis in its non-original state a few times. Frankly, I was hoping it'd have more of a yogurt flavor than it did. There is definitely a bit of a "soda" flavor going on. I think the powder between the wafers must be made with ramune (Japanese lemon-lime soda) flavor. The filling reminded me of blue "soda" flavored fizzy candies I used to have as a child. I wondered if Nestlé Japan recycled part of the ingredients or formula for the ramune bar it released last summer.

The outside coating had a little bit of a yogurt flavor, but was so much sweeter than it was sour that it just seemed like a relatively generic white chocolate with the vaguest hint of something else. Frankly, the chocolate was quite similar to the Calpis I sampled awhile back; it was like greatly watered down yogurt mixed with slightly tart lemon-lime.

This is a decent candy bar, but nothing to write home about. I'll either slowly eat the rest of the bag when my sweet tooth beckons me or slowly give away the rest of it. I can't say "don't buy this", but I also wouldn't say "go out of your way to buy this." It's interesting, but ultimately not all that incredible. This was clearly a corporate match that was done for the marketing value rather than the potential for a winning combination of flavors.

"Extremely Spicy Mania" with Death Sauce

If someone did as that little guy did and really downed a bottle of sauce, I think he really would die.

Recently one of my students and I were discussing curry. In Japan, curry can be ordered with different grades of heat from 1 to 10. She said that she chooses a "3 and I told her that I go for an "8". I've actually had a "10" before, but the heat was so hot that I couldn't really taste the flavor of the curry after awhile. I offer this information to allow for the fact that I'm no chili wuss, though I'm also not the most advanced consumer of high powered chilis.

Nonetheless, when I saw this bag of Frito Lay "Extremely Spicy Mania with Death Sauce", I couldn't turn it down. I discovered it at Family Mart, and I have since lost the receipt, but I think it was about 160 yen ($1.82). I've never had death sauce, but anything that threatens my very existence with its heat draws me as a flame draws a moth. Also, this was a spin-off of the "Mayo Mania" snack I'd had before and there's something about the whole "mania" thing which is hard to pass up. Insanity and snacks just seem like a match made in heaven.

For those who don't know, "Death Sauce" is an American product which is made by a company called "Blair's" (which is ran by a man named Blair, imagine that). I've never had the actual sauce, but how deadly can it really be? Their marketing claims that they make the hottest sauces in the world and are in the Guinness Book of World Records. Ironically, their slogan for their "death sauces" is "feel alive". I was undaunted by their claims, and measured out half of the 60 gram (about 2 oz.) bag for consumption. I put them in a bowl and it left little bits of red oily residue on the dish where the rings touched the ceramic.

These are nice crispy, light corn-based snack rings. They smell a bit funky though. It's hard to pin down the scent, but the ingredients list includes "beef extract" and I believe that was what I was getting. You can also get a hint of the garlic and paprika used in them as well as, of course, the habanero.

The first bite was hot and savory. I could pick up some of the spices and they were pleasantly salty. The heat is quite strong and I drank some water. I ate about half of them, and the cumulative effect of the peppers on my tongue got to reach the point of "too much." It was painful, but generally in a good way. The whole point of super hot foods is to feel the burn and to release some endorphins. That being said, I stopped at about half the portion I had served myself because I knew it was going to get worse and also I couldn't really taste much past that point.

In the end, I didn't have to get something cold and creamy to sooth my tongue, but I wanted to and was glad that I had a frozen banana in the freezer to make into a smoothie. I was doubly glad because my stomach burned. In fact, it burned for about an hour after I ate a half ounce of these despite the fact that I had eaten grapes before these rings and a frozen banana smoothie with ice and low fat milk after them.

I don't know if these can actually burn your stomach with their ferocity, but I wasn't keen on the long-term nature of that warm feeling in my gut. Since people have been known to drink the sauce straight (for reasons I'm not sure of but it may go back to the whole "insanity" and snacks thing I mentioned earlier), I'm hoping that no real damage can be done. I'm also... concerned... about how this is all going to feel when it makes the journey through my digestive system. I've eaten Tyrant Habanero snacks before (in greater quantities) and experienced less stomach burn and residual warmth.

I liked these in terms of the texture, taste and the heat, and I have to credit them with giving me an incentive to exercise strict portion control. The whole bag is 310 calories and I think I could only manage a quarter at once, and even then that felt like more than necessary. These are tasty and should make fans of very hot foods quite happy. I think these types of things are the ultimate "otsumami" (food to be consumed with alcohol) in Japan because anyone who eats them will likely want to guzzle down beverages to deal with the fire in their mouth and stomach.

Though I'm not absolutely certain that I'd buy these again, I really did like them and I think I'll eat this bag very slowly - maybe two or three rings at a time and always with food. Mainly, my reservations only relate to the stomach burn. Note that there is a warning about the possible discomfort you can experience from eating too many at once and a recommendation not too many at the bottom of the bag so approach them with caution. This was made with Blair's "Sudden Death" sauce which seems to be the hottest in their index. After eating these, I concluded that I'm probably a chili wuss after all, but I'm still going to (at least) finish the bag, and I probably would buy more in the future if they remain on the market.

Random Weekend Picture 19

Pepsi released a new product called a "Strong Shot". It's regular Pepsi with extra caffeine and carbonation. The cans are pretty tiny at 190 ml. (6.5 oz.) and they're 120 yen each ($1.35). In terms of drink volume, they represent quite poor value, but I guess that getting your hands on a stronger dose of one of the few legal drugs in Japan might be worth it for some people. The yellow band across the top warns you about the powerful forces contained within these little blue cans.

I've elected not to review this, but those who are interested in more details might want to keep an eye on "The Impulsive Buy", as the marvelous Marvo is going to sample this item and may share his impressions with us if we're lucky.

Marui Suzuki Macarons

One of the interesting things about living in Tokyo is that every shop seems to open up new food vistas. I have 4 major supermarkets (Seiyu, Inageya, Peacock, Queen's Isetan), 2 green grocers (Takano and Yutakaraya) and a multitude of convenience stores and 99 yen shops (no fewer than a dozen) in walking distance of my home. You'd think these would cover all of the bases, but, no, there are still products that I never see unless I got far and wide.

My husband and I grabbed a bus to Don Quixote, a quasi-megastore with more junk than I've seen in one place since leaving the U.S. They had a lot of imports as well as Japanese items that I'd never seen before. I found a tasty 7-cheese frozen pizza there which I wish I could get nearby and the macarons that I'm reviewing today. I bought the macarons on a whim because I wanted to compare them to real French macarons, which are presently all the rage in Japan. I paid 198 yen ($2.20) for a 220 gram (7.8

oz.) bag.

These are produced by a company called Marui Suzuki, and I was surprised that they had a web site since the bland packaging on the cookies is often an indication that a small company with no image or web presence is behind them. Truth be known, my expectations of these cookies was so low that I didn't expect to bother to review them at all (hence the reason the picture is of an open bag). The company makes, distributes or markets a vast number of Japanese snacks from chocolates to youkan to manju to cakes and cookies. There aren't too many pies that they don't have their fingers stuck in. Their selection is so vast that I couldn't find a page for this product in particular, but it doesn't really matter since there is minimal product information on the site anyway.

It turns out that the Japanese means to say "macaroon" rather than "macaron", and that turned out to be okay. This is a failure of the ability to translate foreign sounds directly into Japanese written language. These cookies are like Italian amaretti. That is, they are crispy, sweet, light little cookies with a base consisting of egg whites, nuts, and sugar. The first ingredient is peanuts followed by sugar, flour, and eggs. There is also a generic listing of "flavoring", but I'm guessing that may be something like vanilla. What these taste like is peanut butter.

I adored these because I love both amaretti and peanut butter. The texture is a delight and I wouldn't hesitate to recommend these to someone who likes crispy, meringue-like cookies. I only wish that calorie information were provided so I'd know how much trouble I'm getting into when I eat these tiny (about the circumference of a quarter or hundred-yen coin) cookies.

Meiji Crunch Bar

I'm not an impulsive shopper. Despite the fact that I buy snacks for review on a regular basis, I rarely just snap up something that catches my fancy. Usually, I'll scope out the situation and think about the items that catch my eye. I'll return later and buy the things I'm serious about. I should note that this is something that has occurred as a result of my snack review blogging. I was far less cautious before I'd eaten half of the available snacks on the shelves in Tokyo (not literally).

Usually, this somewhat careful approach serves me well. I don't have a lot of partially eaten boxes around the apartment save the items that it takes me a long time to eat. On rare occasions though, I have one of those "you snooze, you lose" experiences and this Meiji Crunch Bar ice milk was very nearly one of them. When I first saw it, I was inclined to buy it but wanted to wait until later. This was in part due to my caution, but in larger part it was due to the fact that my freezer was so full that I couldn't squeeze a single tortilla into it, let alone a box of 6 ice milk bars.

When I returned a few days later to buy these, the entire stock was gone. The card was still in the freezer, so I kept checking back and they finally returned. These bars are either quite popular, quite good, or have some novel value I hadn't been aware. For a moment, I knew what it was like to be Japanese and want something more simply because it appeared that everyone else wanted it (hence the reason people are waiting in line for hours to try whatever food fad of the month is going on).

Obviously, the bars were put back in stock and I got my hands on a box. I picked this up at Inageya supermarket for 198 yen ($2.09) for a box of 6 small bars. Each bar is about half the size of a conventional ice cream bar in the U.S. (55 ml./1.9 oz.). and has 119 calories. The size is quite good for a satisfactory frozen snack with good portion control.

The bar smells a little like chocolate, but more than that it has the scent of the coating which is a little like cookies (it's flour-based) without the sugary sweetness. The bar itself is rather sweet, but not overbearing. The ice cream doesn't taste like much of anything except powdered milk (which is one of the ingredients), but it has a nice creamy texture when you let the bar sit for a few minutes before eating it. The chocolate coating is fine, but is a weak flavor component because it's not that thick. Mainly, you get a sense of sweetness and the crunchy bits on the outside.

As I ate this, I was strongly reminded of "ice cream day" when I was in junior high school. About one a week or so, kids could buy ice cream for a quarter to 50 cents (yes, I'm that old) and this smelled, felt, and tasted like the bars we used to buy. Of course, I grew up poor and rarely bought ice cream on ice cream day, but it's the type of sense memory that is all the more potent because the experience was rare and special.

This is by no means a premium frozen confection experience, but it's also a nice one nonetheless. I'd place this above average for a domestically produced ice milk bar that is reasonably priced. I enjoyed this quite a lot, but mainly because of the crunchy and sweet and creamy texture balance. If you require some solid flavor from your vanilla ice cream and chocolate coating, then stick with the Haagen Daas bars and their 400 yen ($4.23) price tag. If you want to live a little of your misspent youthful calories, then I'd recommend giving this a chance. I liked it, and I'd definitely buy it again provided it doesn't keep selling out.

Note: This is also sold as a single, larger bar in convenience stores, but I haven't seen it around any of my local shops.