Yuzu Zarame Rice Cracker

One of my students used to come for her lessons after working and it was close to dinner time. This sometimes benefitted me because she would bring some treats with her and share them with me as we talked. I would ask her occasionally if she was hungry during the lesson due to the timing and she would say she was on rare occasions, but often said she sated her hunger with a rice cracker (sembei) and some tea before the lesson.

I've sometimes wondered what food holds the same place in American food culture as sembei does in Japan. Nothing really quite functions as the same placeholder, though I guess cookies come closest. The main difference between a cookie as a snack and a rice cracker is likely about 200-300 calories and the sweetness. In modern times, granola bars may come close to being a similar snack, though they are still sweeter, more caloric, and less satisfying in terms of texture.

The main benefit of sembei as a snack is that it carries a lot of satisfaction in a small, crunchy package. Most commercial crackers in Japan are sold in single, individually wrapped plastic packets if they are large like the one I'm reviewing today or in double packs if they are small like the ginger frosted sembei I bought a warehouse load full of (and still am working my way through). The main down side is that they are high glycemic snacks despite their low calorie profile so they will send your blood sugar on a roller coaster ride. I'm guessing having tea with them may help people in Japan feel full after a couple of sembei despite the glycemic index, or that they simply have less reaction to processed rice than Westerners who aren't eating a pound of rice a day as part of their regular diet.

This particular cracker is made by a company called Komenosato, which specializes in making a variety of old-fashioned rice crackers. They market through Rakuten who say they'll ship worldwide and these crackers are 100 yen each (about a dollar in the U.S. depending on the exchange rate. It's funny that they'll let you buy 12 for 1200 yen or 1 for 100 yen rather than offering a discount for buying a lot, but this is pretty common in Japan.

In terms of flavors, this has a bit of a vinegary flavor upfront and then you get a nice hit of yuzu following by some sweetness from the large grains of sugar on the surface. It definitely has a "fried" flavor and a bit of oil on the outside. This is what the Japanese call "hard" sembei which is not be to confused with "crispy". This is dense and brittle and crunchy. The flavor just adds up the more you eat it and the yuzu flavor becomes more intense, the vingery and baked rice flavors start to fade, and the sweetness starts to accumulate.

I loved this. If I could get a whole box for a decent price, I'd likely buy several. It's mainly the combination of how crunchy it is with the ever-increasing citrus notes of the yuzu and how the sweetness seems to allow it to bloom as you eat it. The only downside is that, by the end of eating such a big cracker, the sweetness gets to be a bit much.

If you're interested in these, you can try to buy them through Rakuten, though I believe you'll need to go through the Japanese interface as I couldn't find them listed on their English language site. You can also, at least for the time being, buy them for $2/cracker on Bokksu's market page, but I'm guessing that won't continue for too terribly long. They'll sell out and that will be that. Much to my surprise, you can buy these on Amazon for $26 for 12 crackers. That would seem the most expedient way to purchase them, though it is pretty expensive. Still, if they're around in the future, I could see myself splurging on a box. The seller, Rice Village Honpo, carries all of the Komenosato crackers so one can sample all of them.

Source: Part of the Bokksu premium summer citrus box

Bokksu Premium (Unboxing and Service Review)

During my earlier years in the U.S., one of my friends kindly purchased me a three-month subscription to "Try the World." I am interested in cooking and even started a blog which I infrequently update about new recipes that I've tried so this was a great fit for my interests. I ended up buying my own subscription for a further year, but abandoned it when the service seemed to degrade somewhat and the selection became a bit repetitive on the theme boxes.

However, I did love the boxes and their presentation. They came in cleanly designed boxes with a card describing all of the contents and were full of beautifully packaged items. The experience was one of culture rather than simply a box full of food and it was the manner in which they were curated rather than gathered that made a difference. I mention this because Bokksu is either made by the same people or follows the same concept to a "t".

When rating Bokksu's service, I believe it's important to rate it as much as an experience as it is to look at the contents. When you get the simple cardboard outer box and open it to find a bright orange custom-made box with a wide white ribbon around it to make pulling it out of the outer box easy and elegant, you get a taste of Japan before you sample any of the food contained inside. It is a lush and gorgeous experience and feels like a classy gift. It is exactly the sort of thing you would experience in Japan in terms of the packaging and the presentation.

As is the case with "Try the World", you get a card telling you what all of the items are. Depending on your background, this can be considered a real aid in understanding what is in the box (if you can't read any Japanese and have limited experience) or it can just be a memento that you hold onto for the future to remind you of what you got in past boxes once the food is long gone. The card is professionally laid out and printed on firm card stock. Everything about Bokksu is a class act including the choice of items.

I will admit that I was going to wait to try another service until I'd completed the Oyatsu service's boxes including reviewing the food I got in them. However, I subscribed to Bokksu's mailings and they mentioned that they were doing a "summer citrus" box with a focus on yuzu. Yuzu is Asian citron, a lemon/grapefruit/orange hybrid sort of thing which is fragrant and less sour than it's Western equivalents. Since I adore yuzu-flavored anything, I couldn't resist getting a box while the yuzu getting was good.

Part of the Bokksu experience is that they curate the choices around a tea pairing. My box came with 3 packets of tea, 2 donuts, 3 "pies" (more on those when they are reviewed), 3 sembei, 2 daifuku, 3 rusks, a box of Pocky and a container of Calbee's salted snack straws. I will be reviewing all of these foods in future posts, but I'll say that the assortment was a solid one except for the Rusks which don't fit the theme at all as they are Earl-Grey-tea-flavored. They were a strange choice, but the rest were great.

For a one month purchase of a Bokksu Premium, this cost $39 and includes three-day shipping from the source. Mailings are made at regular intervals so you don't get it within three days of ordering, but within three days of when boxes are sent out. This means that, if they send chocolates which can melt, you'll get things quickly. This is different from some other subscription services which use much cheaper services like seamail or SAL to save money.

I will note that you can get a pretty decent discount on Bokksu if you buy a year's worth at once. They are only $33 per box if you pay for the whole year and I was sorely tempted as I really loved how this looks and I especially love the type of contents I got. The things I got in Bokksu were commonly distributed in my office as part of summer and winter gifts. Several are items often sold only as parts of gift boxes in department stores and you can't find them in average markets, convenience stores, or snack shops. As food boxes go, Bokksu is sending items that few other Japanese snack and food box services will give you. That is no small thing.

However, Bokksu is providing premium content at a premium price. If I'm to be utterly generous in my assessment of the cost of the included items if I were to buy them in Tokyo, it'd be topping out at $15. I'm likely estimating that pretty high so that means less than half of your cost for a $39 box is being spent on the included food. A whopping $24 would be going toward the labor and costs. As I said, this is a beautiful box with likely pricey packaging and the lovely card which I'm sure is not cheap to print, but even if you allow for $1-$2 for the box and a similar generous allowance for the card plus ribbon, that's about $20 for labor in assembling the box, crafting the card, and arranging the contents (by shopping or other means). It wouldn't take many subscribers for that to be a very cushy per hour rate.

Part of the problem with a premium box is that the bar is raised on content not only in terms of quality, but quantity. Like "Try the World", the amount of food you get in Bokksu is limited by their custom box size. You know you're never going to get more than they can cram in there and, though it's expertly packed to fit in as much as possible, I think I should get a bit more for the cost. If I could get a yearly subscription for an average of $25/box, I'd do it without hesitation. I'm very much on the fence for $33 and I'm absolutely not going to continue for a monthly fee of $39.

I should note that Bokksu also offers a "tasting" box for $19 as a single box purchase (that drops to $16 if you pay for a whole year at once) and I'm going to review that option in the future. It is more oriented toward small snacks and similar to the Oyatsu Dagashi box that I reviewed previously.

The web site for Bokksu is very well done and allows you a high degree of flexibility with your ordering. You can, for example, buy a one-box subscription and choose to skip as many months as you want. You can cancel or restart a subscription and you can change from monthly to other types of subscriptions with ease. I am always impressed when a service will let you cancel with ease from their web site rather than make it byzantine and difficult. To me, this is a sign of integrity. Bokksu goes one further by asking you why you are leaving so you can tell them what is wrong or right witht he service. This also gains them points in my book.

My conclusions about Bokksu are:

Service: Amazing
Value: (borderline) Inadequate (depends on subscription plan)
Experience: Amazing

Worth it? It's not worth it as a single box purchase. It's borderline worth it for an annual subscription rate depending on what sort of snacks you'd like to get and how much you value the elegance and curated experience. I expect that, once I have sampled a broader array of Japanese food boxes, I'll come back to Bokksu and take a good, hard look at the annual fees and contents and contemplate making them my main supplier of food for reviews. If their price per box dropped below $30, that'd be a lock for being "worth it" for me personally.

Note: I am not promoting Bokksu. They did not provide me with any free samples. I paid as anyone else would for my subscription. They don't know I'm a Japanese food blogger or that I would be posting about them. 

Sanko Seika Yuzu Koshoo Sembei

There's an episode of the Simpsons in which Ralph Wiggum says, "Sleep, that's where I'm a Viking!" In this spirit, Sanko Seika would like you to consider yourself a samurai at sembei (rice crackers). Both of these notions inflame my inner cynic. We seem to be gravitating toward a world that both rewards people for trying (but not necessarily succeeding) at difficult tasks and allows them to have a lofty sense of achievement for succeeding at extremely easy and mundane tasks like eating and sleeping.

If one could be a samurai at eating sembei and if samurai could be women (they can't), then I might actually qualify, though probably not by eating these crackers. For those who don't know or remember, yuzu is Japanese citron. It is tangy like lemon and sometimes slightly bitter like grapefruit. The flavor is fuller-bodied and less mouth-puckeringly sour than lemon and mixes very well with savory, chili flavors (though it works in sweets as well). These crackers are the Japanese equivalent of "lemon pepper", but they don't exactly taste the same as that flavor combo.

Yuzu koshoo is my favorite savory flavor combination for salty snacks. It's unique but approachable for Western palates. For this reason, I was very excited to see this in Marukai supermarket, especially for the very reasonable price of $2.20. That being said, this contains four individual serving packets (around 70 calories each, so not a lot in each one). It's a decent value for an import, but nothing like the volume most Americans are used to getting for their buck when they approach snack treats.

These are what the Japanese often translate as "hard" sembei. They are thin and brittle instead of puffy and airy. I prefer the puffy style, but these are okay as well. I always find the hard sembei to be a bit tough as rice doesn't seem to fry up in the same manner as potatoes. The shellac-like outer coating can also be a bit sticky or tacky to the touch, though these did not have that quality.

The first bite yielded the nice, zesty flavor of yuzu followed by a strong hit of the cooked rice flavor that I've come to know in all forms of sembei. I waited for the peppery chili flavors to hit, and then I waited some more. I thought that there may need to be a build-up of heat and flavor to find the "koshoo" part, but it never came along. The yuzu flavor was nice and quite present, but the pepper was missing in action.

This is the kind of food that I find it difficult to rate. While these are perfectly serviceable and even reasonably tasty, they are far from the best of this type of sembei I've had. The lack of a "bite" from the pepper in a product that is sold as having that flavor is disappointing. While I was perfectly happy to finish the bag and didn't regret buying these, I don't see myself having them again.

Kasugai Yuzu Gummy Candy

I recently saw a picture of a Japanese granny in her bathtub on Facebook. No, I wasn't "liking" the Japanese old lady porn page. The truth is that, while I'm pretty sure such a page exists, I'm very, very frightened of doing a search to verify that possibility. The picture was there because she'd bonded with a cat, probably a stray cat, and they supposedly are now inseparable. I guess that's why the cat was watching her take a bath. It doesn't explain why someone with a camera was there watching her take one, too, but then we're right back to the Japanese granny porn.

You might wonder what this topic has to do with yuzu. That puzzlement would certainly be understandable, but that's only because I'm slow in getting to the point. The old lady in her tub was nearly surrounded by floating citrus fruit. That obscured her old-lady parts and made the picture far less terrifying than it might have otherwise been. (Note: I have nothing against old lady parts. In fact, at 49, I'm close to having those myelf. I just don't really want to look at them. If you do, then more power to you so long as you're indulging with a consenting granny.)

That picture reminded me of the fact that many Japanese folks like to put yuzu in their baths and that it was more common at one point to bath with it than to eat it. That was before it became a trending flavor (in the past five or so years) and got pleasantly rolled into so many sweets. As a tart citrus fruit, that is where yuzu can truly shine, though it also works in a number of savory implementations.

The candy smells a little lemony and a little floral. The flavor bursts onto your tongue the moment you start chewing. It releases a sweet flavor which has hints of lemon, but is closer in total flavor to an orange. There is a whisper of grapefruit at the end that reveals itself in a tiny, bitter end note.

The texture is on the softer side and they are easy to chew. They're pleasant in this way, and much nicer than some of the tougher gummy candies I've tried, but they're almost too soft in that they separate too fast and divide in your mouth such that it's harder to keep the little blobs on your tongue and savor the flavor. This makes it a better flavor experience to suck on them, but that defeats the purpose of a gummy.

These are very tasty and the only "fault" I can find with them is the price. Usually, Japanese gummy candies are over $3.00 per bag for about a 3.5 oz. bag. I picked these up at Lion Asian market on sale for $1.99, but I had seen them around in other stores for $3.50 in the past. I had to wait a long time for a price reduction.

I whole-heartedly recommend these and would definitely have them again, but I'd still wait for a better price. They're excellent gummy candy in a fairly unique flavor, but they're still gummy. And, as an aside - admit it - you want to see that granny bath picture now, don't you?

Lawson Yuzu-man Tie-up Campaign (product information)

There are certain flavors in Japan which I view as being difficult to love for those who didn't grow up with a taste for them. In this group, I include bean paste (anko), green tea, and, of course, natto (fermented soybean paste). There are other flavors which I think are very accessible and I wonder why they haven't spread to other countries. One of those is yuzu, the citrus fruit that tastes like a cross between a lemon, grapefruit, and orange. It's one of my favorite things from Japan and pretty much the only thing that would compel me to buy convenience store fried chicken (pictured above).

The chicken is yuzu koshyou or citron-pepper flavor, but they're also offering up yuzu popcorn and several themed items featuring the character associated with a musical group called "Yuzu man" that you can collect with points acquired from buying Lawson products including a cushion and a pre-paid card. I don't know anything about the music, besides what the Japanese Wikipedia page tells me, but if a pop group can get more yuzu-flavored products out there, I'm all for it.

Dydo Yuzu Lemon Cider

Readers may have noticed that I haven't reviewed many Japanese beverages since returning to the U.S. This isn't because I haven't had access. It's because they are incredibly expensive as imports at Japanese markets. The average price hovers between $2.50 and $3.00 for soft drinks, and that's a pretty penny for liquid refreshment. A drink has to be pretty compelling for me to fork over that sort of scratch.

This drink won a rare spot on my review blog because it contains yuzu, that blessed citrus fruit that tastes like a cross between a lemon and a grapefruit. It has enough bitterness and sourness to be interesting, but tends to be coupled with other flavors or be subtle enough to be palatable. In fact, the last night I spent in Japan, I had my one and only sip of an alcoholic beverage at Akiyoshi yakitori restaurant because it was made with yuzu. I have to say that it was delicious (but I still only tasted it), and part of the reason I wanted to try this was my memory of how good that extremely mild mixed drink was. I think it was like what the Japanese call "chuhai", which is usually rather like a wine cooler in potency though not in composition.

This is a zero calorie beverage, which means it is made with artificial sweeteners. In this case, it's maltitol (first ingredient) and sucralose (last ingredient). I'm not especially sensitive to such sweeteners, but I'm sure those who are would be pretty put off by their presence in this. Dydo also makes another version of this, which I believe contains sugar and I know is sold hot. I used to see the hot version in convenience stores in Tokyo in winter. I thought I might try it, but never got around to it. This is a bit of a consolation prize for what I missed.

Obviously, I didn't expect this to taste like a mixed drink. I expected it to taste like yuzu and lemon. Unfortunately, it didn't taste like much of anything. While it does have an extremely subtle pleasant lemon taste with a whisper of yuzu that is so insubstantial that it could be considered the flavor equivalent of gossamer, it just isn't strong enough to be compelling. I realize that Japanese food and drinks tend to be subtle, but this is more insubstantial than usual. Think of lemonade that has been watered down to half of its potency and carbonated and you're in the ballpark.

If Dydo meant for this to be a mixer, it failed on that front as far as I'm concerned as well. If you mixed this with anything, the flavor would be pretty much lost. While utterly inoffensive, and refreshing in its own way, this is not the sort of thing I'd be likely to buy even for it's Japanese price of around 100-150 yen ($1.05-$1.57) a bottle, let alone for the $2.79 I paid for it at Hankook Korean market.

This is the second Dydo beverage that I've reviewed, and the first one fared a lot better in my estimation. I wouldn't say this is bad at all. It's just not impressively good. It could be that I'm just setting the bar much higher given the price tag, but I really think there's nothing to see here. Move along.

Random Picture #152

Some people look at a hot dog bun and think about what types of meat it might accommodate. Those people lack the expansive imagination of Japanese culinary types. No, they look at such buns and do not limit the scope of their thoughts to such things as meat. They can heap spaghetti or ramen in there for a multi-carb fest, or, they can pipe it full of whipped cream and jam and turn it into a dessert dog. 

One of the things which struck a uniquely Japanese discord with me was the tendency to take regular bread products and put dessert fillings into them. You could find white bread sandwiches in convenience stores, for instance, that came filled with strawberries and whipped cream. These buns are filled with yuzu jam and whipped cream. For those who don't know the delights of yuzu, it's Japanese citron which tastes like a cross between an orange and a grapefruit with perhaps a bit of lemon. Yuzu remains one of the flavors of Japan that I miss, but even a yuzu lover like me would not be compelled to buy a hot dog bun full of this jam with cream. 

Yuzuiri Kurobekkou Ame (brown sugar yuzu candies)

Anyone who read last Friday's post knows that I'm all for yuzu. This candy was not, however, a jam-inspired frenzy purchase (though wouldn't it be cool if jam could inspire a frenzy? I imagine there'd be bits of toast, scones, and spoons everywhere). I've actually had this pack of hard candies tucked away in my tin full of snacks to be eaten or reviewed for quite some time. It was in the "bargain" shelves at Daiso Japan for a mere $1 instead of the usual $1.50. That means it was probably at or near its expiration date two months ago, but, hey, it's hard candy. It's not like hard candy can really go bad, right?

Well, it can't go bad, but not so pleasant things can happen. Even though this has individually wrapped and sealed candies in a sealed bag, it still seemed to get that gummy, sticky quality that you often see develop when you have a lollipop or cough drop around long enough for moisture to start to do its thing on the outer portions of it. That doesn't make it inedible, but, in the case of this candy, it made it dangerously sticky.

If you've ever wondered why lollipops are on sticks, eating a lozenge-style candy which is on the large size will make it perfectly clear. Between the slightly gooey exterior and the large size disk, I was at risk of choking to death on this or at least having it lodged in the roof of my mouth until it naturally melted away. Three times while trying to suck on this, I got it jammed between the sides of my top teeth and had to dislodge it with my finger. I have a small mouth, grant you, but this seemed like it really should be sold on a stick. After the third time, I decided to hold it in my fingers and lick it like a lollipop until it was whittled down to size. I figured that three times of getting it jammed in my mouth was more than enough snack-related death temptation.

Yuzu peel or worms? You decide.

I'm certain the reason these are so large is that they have small bits of yuzu (Japanese citron) peel embedded in the candy. If they were a more normal size for a lozenge-style candy, there would probably be bits of peel sticking out like tiny tentacles trapped in amber. The illustration on the back of the package doesn't seem to be inspiring confidence in what is embedded inside, but I'm sure they couldn't do much with the limited color palette.

My slightly melted candy. I have no one to blame but myself, really. 

My hope with most of my reviews is that I will have the same sort of experience that Roger Ebert says he wants when he sees movies. He wants to see something which is good that he hasn't seen before a million times. I want to taste something which is good that I haven't tasted before a million times. To that end, this candy is a hit. The combination of brown sugar and yuzu is a good one. This is managed by not overdoing the molasses part of the brown sugar or underplaying the citron too much. There is just enough of both to add the right play of citrus bite with brown sugar sweetness. This is a unique and tasty hard candy that is well worth the 29 calories and risk of tooth decay. There's an odd textural difference when you reach the peel in the center, but it's not necessarily unpleasant. It's just not quite what it's like to get to the Tootsie Roll center of a Tootisie pop.

What I can't say for sure is whether or not it is worth the risk of choking if you buy these on the slightly older side or don't eat it until it has sat around and gotten a bit soft and sticky around the edges. Most people probably have bigger mouths than me and won't suffer my issues, but I'm knocking this down from a "very happy" to a "happy" based on the logistical issues I had eating it. I'd like to buy it again, but I'd either have to get sticky fingers holding it and licking it until it was smaller or I'd have to take my life in my mouth along with the candy.

As a little reminder to readers who may have missed it, or to those who haven't gotten around to entering, I'm offering a box of the current Tokyo regional KitKats (rum raisin) as a contest prize. You can read about it and enter here. The contest ends on Christmas day 2012, so enter early, but only once, please. 

Kondo Honey Factory Yuzu Jam

This is a review which is tricky to write because I know most of my readers don't know what yuzu is. Even if I tell you that it is "Japanese citron", that doesn't necessarily convey much as it's about a fragrance and a flavor which are unfamiliar to those who haven't been exposed to it. Taste-wise, the best I can say is that it's a little like a tantalizing three-way between lemon, grapefruit, and orange, with the first two dominating the flavor menage. 

This is often sold as "marmalade" rather than in the form I'm reviewing it as here. And even this is not actually marketed as "jam". The characters on the jar do not say "yuzu jam", but rather "yuzu tea". The reason for this is that it is common in Japan to use this marmalade for a tisane. It's a little like the way that Russians sometimes sweeten tea. You stir a spoonful of jam into hot water.

However, I would not waste a precious spoonful of this by diluting it into hot water. Unlike orange marmalade, which I find vile and bitter on a bad day and barely tolerable on a good one, this is much more palatable with a delicate balance of citrus bite and sweetness. Whatever bitterness there is is balanced out of the equation, but the qualities of the fruit stop it from being cloying. The truth is that, I could eat this by the spoonful if I were inclined to allow myself. I couldn't eat the entire jar at once, mind you, but I could put away 2-3 spoonfuls at a sitting before I'd feel overwhelmed. It's just like candy to me.

Note that this is a pretty high quality yuzu jam compared to what is on shelves in most markets in Japan. This is 250 grams/8.8 oz. for about 800 yen ($9.60). The reason it is so expensive is that it is made with honey and because it is made with more yuzu. Usually, there are stringy bits of peel in a sugary base. This is more like a puree so the concentration of yuzu and the sugar component (honey) are higher quality and therefore more expensive. The nutritional profile is almost certainly better than the cheaper versions, and the flavor is a bit nicer, but I can't necessarily recommend this for a casual consumer.

Incidentally, this jam came directly from Tokyo, and it can be bought online as well, but I didn't make the purchasing decision. I asked my brother-in-law to buy some yuzu marmalade for me and carry it over when he came to the U.S. for a holiday visit and he brought me two jars of this. It is fantastic, but I'd be too cheap to make such a decision for myself. 

Though I relish eating this straight or on toast, pancakes, or scones, I can't speak for others. I can say that this is delicious and I'd be surprised if anyone who likes something which is similar to candied citrus peel (lemon, orange, citron, of course) would not enjoy this. If you're looking for a holiday treat for a foodie in your life, this would absolutely make a high quality and unique, but approachable gift. I imagine a really upscale eater would enjoy it with certain types of cheese or a good cracker. 

Bourbon Petit Mame Ring Snack

When I was a kid, I had the experience that so many children are familiar with in which my mother said I couldn't leave the table until I ate my vegetables. In my case, that vegetable was peas. I'm actually pretty open-minded about vegetables in general and will sample, if not eat and enjoy, nearly anything except peas. Oh sure, I'll eat a random pea in a dish full of other items, but I'd never seek out pea soup or buy peas and eat them straight up. My mother made sure that I would forever hate peas by making me sit there until I ate mushy, salty, disgusting canned peas. I don't remember if I gave in, but my distinct impression was that I won rather than my mother or the peas.

In light of that, it is odd that I'd look upon this sleeve of pea-driven salted snacks and decide that, "yes, I will buy this." Trust me when I say that this is in no way some valiant effort to overcome my vegetable traumas from childhood but rather my careless consideration of the Japanese and addled confusion. I read "mame", but my brain "heard" "edamame" (immature soybeans). It also doesn't hurt that this has a picture of a yuzu fruit and the characters for yuzu pepper written on it. I'm a bit nutty for yuzu, as future and past reviews will reveal. 

These smell very "beany", which is no surprise since they are pea-based and the first ingredient is "endo powder" or pea powder. The flavor is comes in layers, and that is always a good thing. The chips are quite tiny and feel very cool on the tongue and you experience the pea flavor first. That is followed by the almost vinegary sourness of the yuzu and finally a slightly peppery kick. I love it when a pedestrian snack has depth of flavor as this does. So often, cheap snacks such as this about 90-yen ($1.17) 39-gram (1.4 oz.) sleeve, rely mainly on crunchiness, greasiness, and salt to make the consumer happy. This has quite a bit more going for it.

I am very attracted in general to Bourbon's Petit line of snacks because of the size, portability and variety and this really is one of the better options for salted snacks that they have offered. The only issue I have with these is that they do have a distinct "Pringles" texture going for them as they are the sort of chip that is pressed together and then fried. It also is pretty fatty and packs 226 calories into this small amount. As long as you don't fool yourself into thinking that pea-based chips are more nutritious than potato ones though, you're going to be okay with that.

Morinaga Yuzu-cha

There is a tendency among those who are not native to a culture to take assertions from media as if the natives are taking them at face value. This tea, for instance, is marketed as something which is meant to help conserve energy in these days of nuclear-disaster-induced cutbacks (setsuden). Of course, it seems that winter isn't really a big time of year for setsuden as most trains, shops, and homes are heated to within a few degrees of the temperature on the surface of the sun, but the concept of saving power lingers in the hearts and minds of PR folks all over Japan.

When I read Morinaga's PR site about this product and the other variations that are on offer (cocoa and ginger tea), I thought, "boy, the Japanese sure are gullible if they think they'll heat less water using this type of instant tea as compared to making it themselves." I'm  making the common assumption that the Japanese aren't rolling their eyes at the ludicrous notion that they will heat less water to dissolve a brick of pre-made yuzu stuff than if they simply stir yuzu marmalade into the same amount of hot water. So often, this is the root of a lot of erroneous cultural beliefs. If the media says it, the Japanese must believe it 100%, right? After all, we believe it when commercials tell us that Pop-Tarts and Sugar-frosted flakes are "a good part of a nutritious breakfast". 

As an enormous fan of yuzu, a flavorful citrus fruit which is a cross between a grapefruit, a lemon, and an orange in taste, it may surprise my readers to learn that I had no idea that it was used to make tea.  I've been seeing enormous jars of yuzu marmalade on sale at local grocers and thinking that it looked like a tasty option for my morning repast, but the volume was such that I'd have to eat it everyday for a couple of months to get through it. It was only after buying this rather expensive (198 yen/$2.58) bag of a mere 4 half-cup servings of tea and doing some research that I learned that people are plopping spoons of it into mugs of hot water.

This caught my eye at a local supermarket, Inageya, as I was heading for the register. Most instant tea and coffee in Japan is chock-full of sugar and high calorie, but this weighs in at a modest 29 calories per serving. I don't often feel truly excited about trying a new snack these days, but I was quite enthused about this. It did not disappoint.

As the instructions say, I removed a brick from its foil package and added 100 ml. (1/2 cup) of hot water. The brick fizzed up in a way that would make an Alka-Seltzer fanatic happy and settled in to make an intense yellow tea with bits of peel floating around in it. The smell is of heavenly citrus, unsurprisingly, and though this is called "tea", it has no leaves of the common tea plant (Camellia sinensis) in it. It is mainly yuzu and sugar in its purest form, but as this instant variety it has artificial sweeteners, potato starch and other unsavory chemicals to create the tidy little fizzing brick.

The taste of this is very intense and sweet. It packs a wallop in terms of both zest and a bracing sugariness. I can see how this would be the perfect pick-me-up after a walk in the brisk winter air and it would probably really help wake you up if you're tired. It's  not something that I could see relaxing and casually sipping at, but rather a slow drink that you take sips of and savor. Personally, I thought it was incredible, but I can see where others may find it too strong or too sweet. 

My guess is that it'd be vastly more economical and possibly even tastier to make the tea from a jar of marmalade rather than these instant packets. One of these days (very soon), I'll buy a jar and try the real deal for comparison. However, if you've never had yuzu tea and just want to try it, this is a good way to sample a small amount rather than invest in a big jar of marmalade (and I've only seen relatively big ones). Also, if you want something to keep in a back-pack or a desk drawer, this would be the bee's knees. I can definitely see buying this again, though I frankly wish it were a bit cheaper.

Befco Yuzu and Salt Sembei

Before I started this blog, I was reluctant to sample a lot of Japanese foods. To be perfectly honest, I didn't know what a lot of the traditional flavors were because I just didn't pay that much attention to the food. I've tried a lot of things, and not everything has really floated my boat, but I've come to really be attracted to two flavors in particular. One is kinako, or toasted soybean flour, and the other is yuzu. For those who don't know, it's an Asian citrus fruit with a flavor which is both unique and familiar. It's piquant without being too sour or tart. Every time a new yuzu-based product comes out, I am drawn to it.

In fact, I am so in love with the flavor of yuzu that I was willing to overlook the inclusion of seafood flavors, including shrimp, when deciding to sample this. Shrimp tends to be the equivalent of my own gustatory ipecac, but I had some confidence that it won't be an overblown flavor in these rice crackers. Why? Well, simple logic... There isn't a picture of a shrimp on the bag so, you know, it can't be all that intense. Right? If it was important, they'd definitely show a picture, probably a "chibified" shrimp that looks elated at the idea of being consumed by hungry salt fiends. 

I found them at Okashi no Machioka for 168 yen ($2.09). That gets you 88 grams (3.1 oz.) of crackers. It stocks pretty much every Befco product that comes out, at least for a little while, so it's a good place to find new and interesting flavors. I've made fun of the name "Befco" before because it sounds like the Biffco industries from the second "Back to the Future". The good people at Befco finally explained the naming to me on the back of the bag. It stands for "Beika Frontier Company". I'm not sure what they are on the frontiers of, but there it is... another Japanese company name which is in English and pretty much ignores all logic. 

The crackers smell like a pleasant melange of savory flavors including a meaty scent reminiscent of pork and chicken, yuzu, and seafood. The flavors are multi-layered. The first thing you get is, most unfortunately, oil. These are one of the more heavily fried versions of sembei. The next level is the meaty elements with garlic, shrimp, beef, and crab. Finally, there is an astringent finish of yuzu. The texture is nicely crispy, but still easy to bite into. These are puffy, but not airy. There's just the right amount of salt. Each is 26.5 calories, but they aren't the biggest crackers. They're around half the size of my palm. 

These are good sembei, but for me personally, they didn't make the cut. I'm thoroughly spoiled, however, since I live in Japan and can buy a huge variety of such snacks. It's not that they are modestly enjoyable and don't have an excellent texture, but they are too oily and the yuzu element isn't strong enough for me. I'd still recommend sampling them if you're a sembei fan, but I can't see buying them again.

Lotte Ryoma Sakamoto Yuzu Cookies

I've had these cookies around for an incredibly long time. This is not a testimonial to the unpalatable nature of the cookies, nor necessarily to my laziness (okay, perhaps it's at least a nod to my sloth), but rather to the slow rate of my consumption of treats. There are 11 cookies in the box, and my husband isn't a fan of yuzu so I've had to slowly eat them all myself. I'm pleased to say that it was a task I enjoyed.

More of the Ryoma Sakamoto line of snacks has made an appearance in my area since I initially discovered them and reviewed the sweet potato cakes. While those who have forgotten what I said about him in the first review or never heard of him in any way may think he's a Japanese chef, he's actually a political feature. It's like America putting out George Washington pretzels, bubble gum, and Oreos (cherry-flavored, no doubt).

These cookies are flavored subtly with yuzu, a Japanese citrus fruit which tastes like a cross between a grapefruit and a lemon. It has unique properties which I can't really convey, but it is a good citrus addition to a wide variety of snacks in Japan, both salty and sweet. In fact, it's one of my favorite flavors.

The cookies are tender and slightly soft on the inside, and a little crispy on the outside. They share this property with Country Ma'am brand cookies, though the textural contrast between the exterior and interior is less profound. Each cookie is 5 cm. (2 in.) in diameter and provides 47 calories. The cookies smell lightly and pleasantly of yuzu's unique scent and the flavor is lightly sweet. The citrus flavor is mild so that you can taste the qualities of both the cookie and the flavoring.

These cookies are really a delight, but I would caution that they are quite subtle. Their delights are as much in the texture as the flavor and they are not going to suit someone who likes more robust offerings. I found them to be really enjoyable with tea, and I'd definitely consider buying them to take home and share with people who may be squeamish about uniquely Japanese treats and flavors. They may not love them, but they surely wouldn't find them unpalatable, and there's a good chance they'd enjoy them as much as I have.

Kameda Seika Ponzu Sembei

I can't believe that I've been snack blogging for coming up on two years and I hadn't sampled anything flavored with ponzu until now. This wasn't willful on my part. It's just that I hadn't encountered anything flavored with it in my cursory searches. The reason this is so strange is that ponzu, a slightly sour, tart dipping sauce, is quite common in Japanese cuisine.

My first experience in Japan with ponzu was with a teppanyaki steak restaurant. My husband and I were taken to a very expensive place in a large hotel in Ikebukuro by one of his students at that time. This particular fellow worked for Toyota, and this was back in the days when Japan was a big economic threat and the world was its oyster. On his expense account (I'm sure), we were treated to small, expertly grilled bits of meat, garlic, and onion. Each small thin slice was individually handled by an expert chef and offered up in portions that would make an American weep. Among the sauces we were given to dip these small morsels was ponzu shoyu, a mixture of soy sauce and other traditional ponzu elements like lemon or yuzu.

I discovered these sembei at Family Mart for about 170 yen ($1.90). They can only be had at convenience stores for a limited time. There are 11 crackers in the bag and each is 8 cm. x 3 cm (3.1 in. x 1.2 in.) in size. The bag touts the use of yuzu (a Japanese citrus fruit) powder, but the ingredients list also includes lemon.

Sorry for the bad picture. These actually looked just like yuzukoshoo sembei I reviewed in the past, but I decided to use a bad picture instead of recycle a better one. I'm just that stupidly honest.

As soon as I opened the bag, I could smell the familiar citrus scent of ponzu. The crackers are a savory blend of salt, vinegar, lemon, yuzu, and soy sauce. The balance of these flavors is excellent. They are neither too acidic nor too savory. I could easily eat the entire bag at one sitting if spending 326 calories on something so salty weren't a monumentally imprudent thing to do. If you do the math, you'll see that each cracker is 29.6 calories.

These are excellent, crispy crackers which feel like they're perfect for summer. There's something about the citrus and vinegar nature coupled with the seasonal heat that fits just right. They're also one of those uniquely Japanese things that are relatively accessible to foreign palates, provided that you like slightly sour things made with vinegar and citrus. I strongly recommended sampling them if you have a chance.

7-11 Yuzu Sherbet

I've been a fan of orange sherbet since I was a young adult, but haven't had easy access to it since coming to Japan. It simply isn't something that tends to be carried in Japanese markets and convenience stores. I'm guessing this is because there is a kind of ice that is meant to resemble kakigori (Japanese shaved ice with syrup, like a sophisticated snow cone) that serves a similar area of the market. This "ice" is generally offered in ramune ("soda", lemonade or bubble gum flavor), lemon, and orange flavors so I think it occupies the same citrus-flavored, non-cream-based frozen confection niche as sherbet.

These Japanese ice treats are nice, but their texture is rather pebbly and they tend to be too sweet and syrupy. It's like a compressed version of shaved ice. It has the general flavor of kakigori, but lacks the fine textural benefits that you get with real shaved ice. It also tends to start melting and turn into slush pretty quickly. Essentially, it's a cheap knock-off of something which is much better in its original form.


I was very surprised to discover this yuzu sherbet in the freezer case at my local 7-11. It was 100 yen ($1.10) for a 110 milliliter serving (about a half cup). There are 80 calories in one serving and most of that is coming from sugar as that is the first ingredient. Since yuzu is like lemon, it's not surprising that lots of sugar has to be added to make it palatable in sweets.

This sherbet smells citrus-like, but only faintly. Sherbet just isn't one of those things with a strong scent. The flavor is a good mix of yuzu and just the right level of sweetness. Since the flavor of yuzu is unique, I can only say that it is like a cross between grapefruit and lemon, with just a hint of orange in the finish. The texture is pretty much spot-on for sherbet. It's a little grainy, but not in a bad way. It's simply what happens when a frozen confection is made which doesn't have cream in it.

The standard I hold sherbet to is the type of stuff that I pay a fortune for at Baskin Robbins because that is pretty much the only place in Japan that consistently sells sherbet of any sort. This isn't quite up to the same quality as Baskin Robbins's product, but it is also quite a lot cheaper and just as tasty. Mainly, the texture isn't quite up to the standard of old 31 Flavors varieties.

If this sticks around past the winter yuzu trend, I will definitely buy it again. In fact, I wouldn't mind stocking up on it just to keep it around. If you like sherbet in citrus flavors, it's a no-brainer to sample this.

Kokunaisan Yuzukawa Candied Yuzu

I've sampled plenty of yuzu treats up to this point, but haven't eaten anything which contains much more than a speck of real fruit. Considering my enthusiasm for all things yuzu thus far, I jumped at the chance to sample this candied yuzu when I found it at Seiyu supermarket for about 120 yen ($1.33).

For those who don't remember or know, yuzu is a Japanese citrus fruit which tastes like a cross between a lemon and a grapefruit. It has the sour notes of lemon and some of the bitter notes of grapefruit. This makes it ideal for candying. It's no surprise then that the second ingredient, after yuzu peel, is sugar. Despite this, this 35 gram (1.2 oz.) bag only has 124 calories, so you don't have to feel too guilty about eating it all in one go.



I don't know if this is supposed to be marketed as a health food or not, but I do believe it's supposed to be a nutritious snack. It has vitamin C added to it, which is fairly common in Japan for many snacks as both Calcium and C are not abundant in traditional Japanese cuisine. There is a fair number of little firm bits of candied rind in the bag. They don't smell like much individually, but the whole bag takes on their citrus scent.

Unsurprisingly, they taste like yuzu, which is to say a little bitter and a little sour. The bitterness is a bit more prominent than the sourness and the sweetness level is pretty spot-on. It's just enough to balance the harsher flavors. The texture is pretty much as you'd expect for this kind of thing. They're solid, but easy to bite through. They're not as chewy as dried fruit because of the candying.

I really liked these, though clearly they don't fall into the category of a candy or salty treat in terms of the pleasure one can extract from them. If you enjoy fruit snacks and want something different, I'd recommend giving this a try. I wouldn't hesitate to buy it again, though I have to say that I'd have to be in the right mood to eat it.

Yuzukoshō Gourmet Cheetos

Cross-cultural differences are usually recognized mainly when they are broad and obvious like the fact that Japanese people bow and Americans shake hands. One of the reasons I continue to be interested in Japan (or other cultures for that matter) is that I want to know and understand the subtle differences. I think that the aggregate of those types of differences paints a more detailed and vivid portrait of a different culture than the most obvious differences.

What does this have to do with something as pedestrian as Cheetos? Well, this bag of Yuzukoshō (a fermented spicy seasoning made with Japanese citrus fruit like a lemon and chili peppers) salted corn snack has as a selling point that it contains 100% dark meat pork extract. It fascinates me that this point is so appealing that it's put on the front of the bag in fairly prominent letters. The Japanese clearly value the origin of their pork extracts more than I do.


My husband quickly grabbed these Cheetos, a 70 gram (2.5 oz.) bag, at our local 99 yen store while snapping up other interesting-looking goodies. He didn't pay much attention to what it said. The skewers of grilled meat pictured on the package suckered him in. If he had known it was yuzu and chili, he wouldn't have bought it.

When you open the bag, the strongest scent is of the chili, but also black pepper. The Cheetos look to be liberally sprinkled with it. The flavor is very intense in four layers. There is the sourness of the yuzu, the heat of the pepper and chili, salt, and also sugar. The mix of sweet and salty with sour is actually quite nice, but the sweetness component (which is actually the sweetener Stevia) is amped up a bit too high for my tastes. In general, I like very strong flavors, but this tastes a bit too close to a spice bomb for me. My husband also felt the flavor was too "sharp". These would probably be better if the flavors were at about 70% of their current intensity.

In the end, we'll eat the whole bag (386 calories) because they're not bad at all. I'm guessing they'd be better with a drink of some sort close and hand or as an accompaniment to food so that you could give your taste buds a rest.