Morinaga Peach Hi-Chew

For some reason, I never realized how many product names sound like sneezes. "Hi-chew" is definitely one of them, but so was "Gatzun". The latter sounds like a more manly expulsion, whereas the former has a more high-pitched feminine feel. Next time you sneeze, try to work one of these two product names into the process. I'm sure it'll make it more enjoyable. Also, there may be some sort of money to be made as a shill for products by sneezing out their names. It's like the whole thing where idiots tattoo company names onto themselves for cash, except, less permanent and quite a bit stupider. Still, I'd sneeze out a product name in a public place for cash, but then I'm currently unemployed and would humiliate myself for food.

Turning to the point of this post, which is not sneezing, but Hi-Chew... I didn't know that this particular product was so pervasive here in the U.S. until I came back. Not only is it on many supermarket shelves, but you can buy big bags of it at Costco. It's not nearly as "exotic" as I imagined from my isolation from Western culture in Tokyo. Still, I guess the flavors that were on offer there were a bit more exciting, though not by a long stretch. Kamu kamu was still essentially"grape", though it did sound like a weird thing.

I found this at Cost Plus for $1.50 quite some time ago. I snapped it up before I realized that I could get better booty at the Daiso Japan and in a fit of "homesickness" for Japan, I bought anything that had even a whiff of Japanese snack culture associated with it. Of course, this is made by Morinaga, and that it was made under license of that very company. Based on my experiences dealing with business people, that means that the Taiwanese factory workers who lovingly watched a machine craft these Hi-Chews while yawning and scratching their behinds were being watched by a Japanese manager.

Most of my readers probably know what Hi-Chew is already, but I'll tell you again anyway (even though I'm not paid by the word). It's like gum mated with a piece of caramel. Each wad will give you about 20 seconds of chew before dissolving into sugary strands onto your teeth. The main benefit of these is that they tend to be very flavorful and this one did not disappointment. It had a nice, almost realistic peach flavor with a slightly perfumey sense to it. I don't think that a slightly floral note which is unnatural is a bad thing necessarily. It worked for me on this, but it may put off people who are sensitive to it and find it "soapy".

I liked this, though I didn't "love" it. Occasionally, I crave fruity candy and I'd certainly find this an attractive option at such times. Mainly, I keep Hi-Chew around for several months and eat it super slowly and this one will certainly do the job nicely until the last few pieces melt into inedible globs that I won't be able to peel off of the wrapping paper.

Random Picture #128

Sometimes I think that any comment that I can make on a photo can only serve to detract from the experience of viewing it. This is "oppai jelly". "Oppai" means "boobs". I didn't really investigate this product when I took the picture, so I can't say if it is marketed toward women who want to cultivate larger breasts, or if it's for pervy men who can't get their hands on the real deal so they get a thrill out of handling wiggly jelly which is similar to what they imagine the real deal is like. While I did see food that was designed to be ingested by women in the hopes of increasing their boobage potential, it generally was not presented in this fashion. So, I'm guessing the reality is the latter rather than the former.

Hiramile Lemon Candies

Every time I go into Safeway, I make a quick stop at the back of the store in order to explore their shelves with items that had been knocked down in price. The items that are placed on those shelves are cut in price by 50% and I've actually gotten some nice bargains there on non-food items. This situation is in stark contrast to my experiences in Japan with discounts at markets. They were always pathetic reductions that allowed you to save between 8 and 20 yen (10-25 cents) on things like "Mickey's Super Happy Cookie Substance" (© Disney Corporation).

"This town where we find peacefulness and refreshment... In order to enjoy a better quality of life, I always return here."

This hiramile candy comes courtesy of a 33% discount from the Daiso Japan. Instead of being $1.50 (118 yen), it was only a buck (79 yen). It also didn't hurt that it is a citrus candy and I have an immense fondness for all Japanese citrus products. And the icing on the cake was that it had one of those quaint and strange sayings written on the front of the bag.

I had never heard of hiramile lemon before, but through the magic of the internet, I learned that it refers to something called "citrus depressa". I must say that that is not an encouraging name for a fruit.Why not "citrus euphoria" or "citrus orgasma"? The name actually appears to refer to the flattened appearance of the fruit rather than the emotional status of its future consumer. It's a physical depression, not the sort that you need to take Prozac to deal with.The front of the bag in Japanese uses the Okinawan word, shiikuwaasaa, and there's a map of Japan showing you that region. It's important to know where your hard candies come from.

Incidentally, I'm well aware that my readers are probably about as enthusiastic about the idea of hard candy as they are at finding a dish of fused ribbon candy at grandma's house. I know you'd rather be reading about KitKats and weird Pepsi flavors, but the best way to get a good sense of a citrus flavor is through this sort of candy. In other presentations, it's likely to be diluted, and, as I said, I like Japanese citrus a lot. Besides, I've done about a hundred reviews of KitKats and you can go read one of them if you're in need of such content. By the time I had left Japan, one KitKat was blending into another into a chocolate wafer filled transporter accident that would make even Mr. Spock cry. 

As for the candy itself, the taste is sweet and has a lightness to it. It has the sense of lemonade, but without the strong tartness. There's a hint of a grapefruit flavor in addition to mild lemon which gives it a nice depth. Though the fruit itself is supposed to be very sour, the candy lacks much of a bite. That doesn't mean they are bad at all. I liked them because I liked the mellow grapefruit/lemon blend with what seemed like some of the sweetness of orange tossed in for good measure, but if you like super sour candy, this is not for you.

I enjoyed these candies, and my only reservation about them is that they are made with sugar, corn syrup and citric acid. This doesn't mean much in terms of calories as they are only 20 calories each, but it does make them a bit of tooth enamel consumer. I don't like to suck on sugary candies too often because I know it can lay waste to your teeth if you're not careful. Still, as something occasional that I enjoy followed by a glass of water, I'd buy these again.

Nestle Crunch in Japan (product information)

When I was a kid and went trick-or-treating, I was always delighted to get a Nestle Crunch bar from the houses at which I was begging for candy. I was generally slightly less happy with a Hershey's Krackel. I don't think that was because it was inferior. I believe both bars are pretty mundane consumer milk chocolate (meaning too sweet, very milky, and with weak flavor depth), but I tended to get Krackel's from cheap asses who bought miniature bars. Of course, it was better getting a tiny Krackel than getting saddled with a dark chocolate bar from the same assortment that Hershey sold at that time.

I can't recall when Nestle Crunch started showing up in Tokyo shops on a regular basis, but I can say it wasn't around when I arrived there in 1989. I can also say that I never personally saw a full-size bar and only saw bags of minis for sale. The classic foil-wrapped full-size bar which is similar to a regular chocolate bar, but with the textural bliss of crispy rice puffs, seemed not to be offered to the Japanese market. 

I remember trying a regular Crunch bar once in Tokyo, probably within the last 5 years, and I was very disappointed. I don't know if the Japanese one was different, or if something which suited my childhood tastes failed the test of time, but it seemed very "blah". I tend to think that it was really that they were never that good, but kids have very different tastes than adults.

Currently, Nestle Japan only sells minis of their venerable Crunch bar. They're offering three flavors including a salty version. The salty version came out late last month and is clearly a response to the summer heat. As is logical, salt is a big part of getting through the sweaty months. In Japan, eating cucumbers encrusted with large salt crystals is common, as is salting your watermelon (note: I think these things don't only happen in Japan, just that's a part of seasonal custom there). Nestle recommends that you freeze these for maximum enjoyment. I think that people might want to do that just to keep them from melting in the current heat (which I hear second-hand has been pretty terrible).

Of course, as required by law, there is also a strawberry crunch <yawn>. I think that they are probably melting down the billions of unsold strawberry KitKats that I refused to sample when I was there to make these Crunch bars.

Each bag of minis costs 525 yen ($6.70) and the two flavored varieties have 20 bars in each and the plain has 22. I guess a few spare bars are supposed to make up for perceived boredom. If I were to happen across these. This is the sort of thing I would not have bought back in Tokyo because I hated the idea of buying a whole bag of minis when I wanted to try just one bar. Even if I could pick up one bar though, only the salty one would be of moderate interest. If anyone on the island has tried the salty version, please share your thoughts. 

Random Picture #127

Americans are familiar with Smokey the Bear. He's the one that said, "give a hoot, don't pollute." No, no, that was Woodsy Owl. When you have too many of those childhood mascots, it's easy to get confused. 

These are Smoky the chips. It could be they are marketed toward smokers, or people who enjoy fires. It could be that you should also smoke the chips themselves. Oh, it's just boring old smoked cheese potato chips. Ah well.