Random Picture #147

Recently, my husband and I ran across an enormous heart-shaped box of chocolates in Safeway Supermarket. It was about as big as his chest and he held it in front of him and I took a picture of it to show our friends back in Japan. The idea was to illustrate this ridiculously huge novelty box with a little over 2 lbs. (a little under a kilogram) of low quality chocolate in it.

The reason that it's such a good shot to show Japanese folks is that novelty containers of any appreciable size are not especially common due to the smaller dwellings. Tirol will make a few novelty boxes, but they are small and generally made to be immediately disposed of when you get a tad bored with them. It's not only about storing the packaging, but it's also about finding the space in the trash to dispose of them. Trash cans in Japan aren't the behemoths that you see in the U.S., and you are obliged to break things down for recycling (and to wash them).

What is shown in this picture are two novelty containers for "jelly" confections. These are essentially shelf-stable gelatin (made with agar agar, a substance derived from seaweed) in fruit or yogurt and fruit flavors. I'm guessing the market these are designed for are parents or others buying gifts for children, but in Japan it's just as likely to be designed for office girls as you don't have to be a child to get your Hello Kitty on.

Morinaga Dars Bitter Chocolate

The way in which our tastes develop is something I've expounded upon on multiple occasions. I do this because I get royally fatigued at the notion that the tastes of one nation are somehow more evolved than those of another. Since I spent 23 years in Japan, I had more than my share of dietary comparisons based on the perceived American diet (burgers, shakes, fries, Coke, hot dogs, and pizza) and the perceived Japanese one (sushi, rice, miso soup, fish, vegetables). 

The reality of the former is that it's not as dire and destructive as people think and that of the latter is that it's not nearly the nutritional Superman that people seem to think it is. The truth rests somewhere in the middle, of course, and any individual's diet will vary. I know that I had to say again and again to my students that, NO, I do not like hamburgers or steak, and, NO, I do not eat fast food. I hate fast food. The truth is that I didn't grow up eating fast food since my family was so poor. That was back in the old days when fast food actually cost more than food that was considered healthy.

Since I grew up with so little fast food, I never developed a strong taste for it. And, after all, as I've said far too many times before (and I'm sorry to bore my audience who deserves better), we like what we grew up with and what we become acclimated to. That's probably why some of my lovely readers will sample something I liked and hate it. My tastes got rewired in Japan to some extent.

When it comes to the training of the taste buds, the Japanese are much more acclimated to bitter flavors. I'm guessing this is because their cuisine incorporates more of them and this gets their palates accustomed to them earlier and with greater frequency than the average 'merkan. This is one way to explain the popularity of goya and various dishes prepared with it.

This also explains why Dars would release a "bitter" chocolate variety. I'm sampling it not because I like bitter flavors (as I'm a sissy American), but because it is Dars, the darling of the Japanese chocolate industry in my eyes. Frankly, as I've gotten older, I've also learned to enjoy darker chocolate and stronger flavors more. I'm guessing this is because of neurological diseases or wilting of my once perceptive taste buds or some such age-related decay. It's best to simply accept that you're going with grace and just be glad that you have a higher chance of enjoying food that you wouldn't have found palatable when you were young and full of yourself.

When I first tried this, I wasn't entirely keen, but the second round (delivered in two-square bursts) hit me a lot more favorably. The chocolate isn't intensely bitter, but it definitely has an edge to it and is a bit strong. It's not really proper dark chocolate, but it's closer to it than most consumer-level offerings of such. The main benefit, as is always the case with Dars, is its creamy, fatty nature which will unfold if you are patient enough to hold one of these little squares on your tongue and allow it to slowly melt. If you just gobble it down, well, then you're missing half of the reason to have these instead of some other dark chocolate.

I liked this because it was potent without being unpleasantly intense. There is just enough sweetness for a dark chocolate sissy like me to enjoy it and the texture, as always, was creamy when warmed in the mouth, but had a nice snap when I bit into it. Each square is about 20 calories, and you get 12 servings (Dars = doz, as in dozen). I paid about $2.20 for this at Nijiya Supermarket, and I think it was well worth it. If you're hardcore about dark chocolate, this probably won't do the trick for you and if you are strictly a milk chocolate devotee, this may also fall short. If you're somewhere in the middle, you can come join me on the bitter dark side of Dars. 

Want Want Salad Sembei

Don't let the title of this post fool you into thinking I had double desire for these sembei. That's simply the name of the brand. It is actually quite familiar to me with it's logo of an excited young man in what appears to be an old-style professional wrestlers costume. I never saw this brand in Japan, but this particular sembei (that means "rice crackers", to those out there who are uninitiated in this lingo) is the product of an allegiance between a Japanese and a Chinese company.

The Japanese end of this alliance, which I recognize based on one corporate logo shaking hands with the other on the back of the pack, is Iwatsuka Seika. I reviewed quite a few of their sembei when I was living in Japan, and figured that seeing what the deal is with these was worth a dollar (90 yen). That's all I paid for them at Daiso Japan. That makes them cheaper than similar crackers in Japan. Unless they are the worst sembei ever (and even bad sembei tends to be pretty decent), they were almost certainly going to be worth a buck.

Before I get too far, I have to say that I wonder what the deal is with these. Iwatsuka already has its own line of crackers. Why would they produce these in cooperation with a Chinese company? The obvious answer is that making these in China is a lot cheaper than making them in Japan, but they have to keep the name of a Japanese company on them in order to waive away the food safety boogeyman that haunts every Japanese food consumer. That illustration of hands shaking is an assurance that a reputable Japanese company has the backs of the Japanese people. They're probably sending armies of managers to the factories and they're frowning in concentration as they oversea the underpaid foreign labor. Of course, I don't know if this is true, and you absolutely should not take my word for it, except for the boogeyman part. That's absolutely a fact.

Personally, I don't care where these were made or who made them. I only care about how they taste and play out in terms of texture. If they're crispy and light and enjoyably savory, it's not my problem if hundreds of managers from Iwatsuka develop permanent frown lines on their brows and around their mouths.

Incidentally, I have no idea why these are called "salad", but this flavor name is common in Japan. I've heard that it refers to salad oil, but I have no way of knowing if that is correct. It doesn't taste anything like any sort of salad, and the ingredients list does not include typical flavoring agents for any sort of salad I've ever had. It does include MSG, and rosemary extract as well as salt and pepper. There are other generic flavorings listed, and soy sauce is probably in there, but the truth is that these are not powerfully flavored rice crackers.

Not everything has to be powerful to be enjoyable, however. These carry the standard "baked rice" flavor as well as possess an crispy lightness. The flavor is extremely mild and what the Japanese and food snobs call "umami". It is rather generically savory as all of the included flavors merge into a melange which provides a clean and uncomplicated flavor profile. The crackers are wrapped individually as 2-packs and each is about 35 calories.

In the U.S., there are plenty of plain potato chips and someone must love them. I'm guessing that salad sembei is the equivalent of such chips in Japan. I liked these, but I didn't "love" them. They certainly filled the bill for a salty snack and especially did well toward taking me back to the flavors I associate with living in Japan. For the price, and sembei can be very expensive in the U.S., I'd be very happy to pick a bag of these up occasionally again.

Random Picture #146

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One of the things which was never in short supply when I lived in Tokyo were caramels. I reviewed quite a few, but, after awhile, well, there was only so much I could tolerate in the way of sweet sticky wads of candy intent on lifting out a few fillings.

The picture above is from a shop that specializes in goods from Hokkaido. It appears that, in addition to producing lots of dairy products, they make a lot of caramels. From left on the top row, there are: soup curry, meat, octopus, ramen, cassis, roast corn, and strawberry flavors. From left on the bottom row are: melon, melon soda, salted butter, corn, butter, sweet potato and potato. Is it any wonder Nestle decided weird candy flavors would suit the Japanese market?

From left: cocoa, milk, red bean, condensed milk, potato, strawberry, corn, butter, melon, kinako (toasted soybean flour). Image from Donan's web site.

This picture was taken just before I left Japan, and Donan, a maker in Hakodate, Hokkaido, of a great many caramels including those pictured here, has hanged its packaging. It's really sad because the new style, while consistent, is not nearly as interesting as the older styles. That being said, I'd totally buy the kinako flavor in its boring box if I were to find it.

Tokyo Regional Rum Raisin KitKat (and new releases)

Based on when I ran a contest to win a box of these particular KitKats and the timing on reviewing them, you might guess how high my level of enthusiasm is for them. Yes, I've had them around for weeks and only yesterday did I get around to breaking the seal on my box. It's not that I thought it was going to be bad or anything. I just didn't expect it to be particularly "good". I felt that the best I could hope for was that it would be "interesting" and not too disgustingly sweet. The question before me as I unwrapped a mini bar was whether or not Nestle Japan was going to manage to struggle over the very low bar that I was setting for this candy.

These smell vaguely fruity, which is slightly disturbing considering there is no sign of actual raisins in them. The bars are smooth white chocolate over nice, crispy wafers. The first thing that hits you is the very, very sweet white chocolate followed by the rum. The raisin comes through at the end on the initial taste, but builds in intensity as you eat more.

Since I don't drink alcohol, I don't know what rum tastes like. I asked my husband to try this. He took a bite, made a bad face, and said it was "too raisiny" and said essentially that it did not taste like rum to him. Personally, I think that rum raisin in general is one of the less approachable flavors, but that it can have its charms. Depending on the presentation, they can be like the guy everyone wants to talk to at the party, or the one that has people making excuses to escape to the bathroom or looking at their watch and talking about having to go home. This bar is somewhere in between. If this bar were the metaphorical equivalent of a guy at a party, I'd talk to this guy for a little while, but not for too terribly long. 

I got this box by asking my brother-in-law to pick it up at Narita airport on his way to visit family over the holidays. I was shocked to discover that it is being sold currently on Amazon for a pretty penny. You can procure it at less dear a price via J-Box. I caution those who may think this will be the most interesting thing since sliced bread that it mainly has novelty value. I expect to take months to eat twelve of these. It'll have to be one of those things where the spirit moves me for me to have one. It definitely would not satisfy an authentic chocolate craving, nor one for wafers. I don't regret asking my brother-in-law to pick it up, but mainly that's because I was keen to review it. I wouldn't buy it again.

And a few bits of news just for added fun:

Images from this point on are from Nestle Japan's web site.

Incidentally, Nestle Japan is currently marketing something they call a "KitKat chocolate lab". To the best of my ability to tell, Nestle has a deal where you can order a box of KitKats with a custom cover featuring a picture of your choice. You have to buy 10 boxes and each box has 3 mini bars. The price for this is very reasonable at 2310 yen ($25.66). In yen, that sounds a lot less expensive than it does in dollars.

This target for this isn't people who want their kids to appear on a box of candy. It is for people who want personalized favors such as those having weddings or special events. At 231 yen ($2.56) a box for what amounts to about half of what you get in a regular KitKat bar box for half that price, it is not good candy value for money, but it's rather nifty for a major brand to be a part of your personal event. I can't imagine people having the chance to customize a box of Snickers bars, for example. 

Nestle Japan seems to be shifting their marketing now from issuing a ton of weird KitKat flavors (which perhaps are not selling especially well) to packaging. In addition to the custom boxes in the aforementioned paragraphs, they are also releasing a box with a MOS Burger theme (available at the Japanese fast food joint, MOS burger) with a space to write a message, so perhaps these are meant to say, "I was picking up a fast food burger and I thought of you. Here's some consumer-level chocolate to express my feelings."

The red and white packaging.

Exam pack with messages imprinted on milk chocolate bars.

The "snake" packaging.

Picking over the Nestle Japan site, I could not find anything in the way of new flavors. There is a "red and white" bag of minis which has white and milk chocolate bars as well as an "exam pack" which has bars imprinted with encouraging messages for students preparing to take exams. Finally, there is a box with the Chinese year of the snake motif. It was directly targeted toward grandparents for distribution to their grandchildren at the New Year.

I'm wondering if, at least for a little while, the days of a plethora of funky KitKat flavors are over. I saw enough of the weird ones end up in massive bargain bins at snack discount shops like Okashi no Machioka to know that they probably did not sell all that well. Also, when novelty flavors are the norm, it's not surprising that the market loses interest. I know that I certainly lost interest as time went on. In terms of the cost to Nestle Japan, targeting markets based on packaging is probably a better idea. They can still hold the novelty market by focusing on regional flavors (which don't change often, and have appeal as they represent the flavors/foods of a particular area), but make most new releases target lifestyle rather than taste buds.