ZOMG, Candy!

A couple of weeks ago, I posted a review of Lily O’Briens crispy heart and sticky toffee. It was about as scathing as I get:

“From the two I tasted, a crispy heart and a sticky toffee, either Ireland has poor chocolatiers or Lily O’Briens is quite overrated.”

The next day, I got the following email from one of their representatives:

“I work for Lily O’Brien’s Chocolates and have read your comments on our two signature recipes with great interest. Our chocolates, when fresh, taste truly fantasti and the two recipes critiqued are among our chocolate fans’ favourites (check out the testimonials on our website from across the globe). Unfortunately I would suspect that the chocolates tasted we were past their best and should not actually be on sale still… I would be happy to send you fresh chocolates if you would like to critique them fairly.”

I was impressed that Lily O’Briens was so willing to stand behind their chocolates, and I was eager to take them up on their offer of a re-review. After all, I had bought the original chocolates from an Italian coffee shop in tourist trap Las Vegas, not exactly a place that would be worried about quality control and customer loyalty. When a generous package arrived from Ireland, and I happily ate my words, along with the chocolates they sent: one pouch each of their Chocolate Collection, their Sticky Toffee, their Crispy Hearts, and their Trufflicious (that name needs a noun, I thin), a two sets of their luxury bar assortments. This review is of the Chocolate Collection, which includes a sticky toffee and a honeycomb crisp (just like the crispy hearts, but not honeycomb shaped).

The Chocolate Collection, starting from the white chocolate cup going clockwise and finishing in the center, includes crème brûlée, hazelnut torte, honeycomb crisp, farmhouse ice cream, sticky toffee, lemon meringue pie, chocolat noir, and cookies ‘n’ cream. There was one of each and two of a few (the sticky toffee, the honeycomb crisp, and the chocolat noir, if I remember correctly), and I’m ashamed to say that over the course of a few days, I ate the entire pouch. What can I say; it’s that time of year when final papers are due and final exams are coming up.

crème brûlée - White chocolate shell with granulated sugar sprinkled over a white cap; white chocolate ganache filling and a touch of caramel sitting in the bottom of the shell. I don’t particularly like white chocolate. Still, the cup is a cute design.

hazelnut torte - one of my favorites of the bunch, this one was quite nutty. Like most hazelnut/chocolate combinations, it was sweet, but this one managed to be just shy of overly so. The ganache almost had a slight grain to it from the hazelnuts. I liked the textural difference.

honeycomb crisp - honeycomb and crispies in milk chocolate that was soooo much better than the stale crispy heart I bought in Vegas. The chocolate was creamy and yogurty rather than brittle, and though it was still on the sweet side, the sweetness was more bearable when the chocolate melted heavily on the tongue.

farmhouse ice cream - I also enjoyed this one, a dark chocolate shell around a white ganache. The ganache wasn’t white chocolate (I think). Instead, it tasted like fresh cream.

sticky toffee - the other one that I had originally panned. This time around in a fresh version, the “toffee” caramel was smooth and flowing with a slight butterscotch tinge. No grain and grit here. And again, the sweetness was helped by the proper melt of chocolate (whereas my Vegas ones were pretty brittle).

lemon meringue pie - milk chocolate shell, white chocolate button, bright lemony ganache. Didn’t make too much of an impression on me.

chocolat noir - dark chocolate shell and a lighter, sweeter, and fluffier dark chocolate ganache. I liked the dark chocolate the shell was made of, as it had a nice fruitiness to it. For those who are easing their way into enjoying dark chocolate, this dark chocolate was on the sweet side.

cookies ‘n’ cream - somehow, Lily O’Briens managed to get the a nice bit of cookie crumb grain into this one, a milk chocolate shell surrounding a white chocolate ganache studded with tiny chocolate chips. I was amused that there were actually more chocolate chips in the actual chocolate than in the photo of the chocolate on the box. Usually, it’s the other way around. This tastes overwhelmingly of white chocolate. I think I would have liked it better if it tasted more like the cream of the farm house ice cream.

So, Lily O’Briens, I owe you an apology. Your chocolates are tasty. They’re a little overly sweet for my palate, and the ganache fillings are almost on the greasy side, but I liked them enough to eat them all. Irish people do have good taste in chocolate. Hooray! An OM for the lot as a whole, with an OMG for the hazelnut torte and farmhouse ice cream.

I’ve seen Mambas on the candy racks at Walgreen’s for ages and finally picked up a pack when they were on sale. They’re made by Storck, the same company that makes Werther’s Originals, Riesens, and Toffifee.

They come in four flavors: orange, lemon, raspberry, and strawberry. For some kooky reason, Storck has decided to package their Mambas so that you get 3 six-packs per package. So instead of getting a few of all of the flavors, you get six each of three of the four flavors. Weird, right? Maybe it’s some manipulative ploy to get you to buy more Mambas in search of your missing fourth flavor or something. I just got annoyed.

My package contained lemon, orange, and raspberry. I got lucky, as citrus flavors are my favorite.

Mambas are similar to Starbursts, only they’re smaller and have a slightly firmer chew. I’d place the give of a Mamba somewhere between a Starburst and a Now and Later.

The lemon was bright with a little bit of an effervescent citrus tang. There was no acidity to this lemon flavor, yet it managed to avoid the trap of tasting like lemon floor cleaner.

Orange tasted like an orange creamsicle, which was a bit more mellow than what I expected. I personally didn’t care for the raspberry, as it carried with it a weird, seedy flavor. I can see others enjoying it, but it’s not for me.

Mamba gets an OM from me. I finished the entire pack over the course of a few days - they’re rather addictive - but I don’t think I would by them again.

Part II of many of my series of Russian candies courtesy of my friend Leslie. This week will be Russian candy week, but the series will extend beyond that.

Red October’s Iris Kis-Kis

On these Leslie writes, “My dictionary calls iris ‘taffy,’ but I’m not sure that’s quite accurate… Kis-Kis means ‘Here, Kitty Kitty.’”

I called these candies cat caramels in my notes, so Leslie has a point when she says they’re not quite taffy. They do have the texture of taffy, as it cleaves but is also sticky and chewy. In fact, the more you chew it, the stickier and chewier (and more stuck in your molars) it gets. It tastes like molasses, with dusky sugar flavors without any overt bitterness. An OM for this tasty treat that Leslie likes to buy at the open air market and eat on the way home.

RotFront’s “Slavyanskii Prostor” (Slavic Lands)

I’m guessing that RotFront in Russian doesn’t have the same meaning as it does in English. Apparently, no one Leslie knows could tell her what this is made out of, but they all love it.

It looks like a Tootsie Roll, but it’s completely different. Instead of being chewy, it’s grainy and breaks apart in the mouth. The flavor is pleasantly nutty and reminds of the Chinese crumbly peanut candy from my youth. Leslie thinks the nuttiness may come from sunflower seeds, but she’s not sure. I can’t figure it out either, but I still liked it. An OM.

Ryskie Optima

These are actually Polish, so Leslie doesn’t know what the name translation would be. The candy is basically just sesame seeds in a sugar glaze. It looks like it would be brittle but is actually chewy and did a fine job of sticking in my teeth. I enjoyed the toasted sesame flavor, which is quite strong, and gave it an OM. I think there’s a Chinese candy that’s similar to this.

Back in November of 2007, I reviewed the original Abba-Zaba and didn’t much care for it (and also spelled the name wrong). I did, however, note, “Apparently, the Abba-Zaba also comes in a peanut butter-filled apple-flavored taffy, which sounds intriguing. Apples, particular tart green ones like Granny Smiths, and peanut butter are a great combination, so the Abba-Zaba version sounds promising. I probably still won’t like it because it’s taffy, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want to try it some day.”

I was oh so wrong. I absolutely loved the Sour Apple Abba-Zaba, have since chomped and chewed my way through two of them, and wish I had more. It may not sound like much for me to say that I ate two of something, but take a second and think about all the candy that I go through and have stashed away. For me to like something enough to not only polish it off all by myself but also go out and buy more of it, it has to be good.

The peanut butter filling is creamy, barely salted, and could be nuttier. On it’s own, meh. But paired with the bright green apple sweetness of the taffy and YUM! The flavor combination is a winner in my book. The apple taffy tastes just like a green apple Jolly Rancher, so it’s not actually sour. The sour moniker just differentiates it from the smoother sweetness of non Granny Smith apples, I guess. The taffy cleaves nicely when you break it, is pleasantly chewy when you chomp on it, and slowly melts in the mouth if you have the patience to do such a thing. I personally don’t.

I think the Sour Apple Abba-Zaba makes a great study snack. It’s not too unhealthy, must be eaten slowly, and tastes great. An OMG.

More taffy (BUY!)? But why, Rosa? You don’t even like taffy! More curiosity, but this time with good reason, for the Abba Zabba (BUY!) is not just taffy - it’s peanut butter-filled taffy! But alas, it was still taffy, and therefore it wasn’t for me.

I first heard about the Abba Zabba when I read about it in Steve Almond’s Candy Freak. There’s something incredibly intriguing about retro candy. On the one hand, it’s got to be impressive to be able to survive for so long in today’s age of the Big Three (Mars, Nestle, and Hershey) candy manufacturers. On the other hand, retro candy usually is only so beloved because people have associated fond childhood memories with what they ate at the time (I’m a psych major; feel free to ask me questions about why that is if you’re curious), and very rarely does retro candy actually taste as good as it seems like it should. But the packing is usually pretty great. Just check out the great checkboard/taxi cab pattern on the Abba Zabba!

I found it odd that they didn’t describe the flavor of the taffy. It’s just described as “chewy”. I couldn’t name it either. It’s just generically sweet. As you can see from the photo, the chewy taffy is sandwiching the peanut butter. The peanut butter is super salty, with a heavy grain. The sweet and savory blend is a pretty great balance.

The taffy texture, however, was just too much for me. It was incredibly sticky, and stiff to boot. I really had to work to wrench my jaw open when I chewed it in my molars. Kind of fun the first time, kind of painful further down the line, and probably cause for filling replacement with enough chewing. An O, with the caveat that people who enjoy taffy would probably enjoy the Abba Zabba. Again, it’s just not for me.

Apparently, the Abba Zabba also comes in a peanut butter-filled apple-flavored taffy, which sounds intriguing. Apples, particular tart green ones like Granny Smiths, and peanut butter are a great combination, so the Abba Zabba version sounds promising. I probably still won’t like it because it’s taffy, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want to try it some day.

I’m going to preface this review by letting y’all know I’m not a fan of taffy (BUY!). Laffy Taffy I can take in mini-sized increments, but even that I only eat when it’s all that’s left in the Kiddie Mix assortment. I don’t like how mild the flavor is. To me, eating taffy is kind of like eating a diluted, extra sticky, not as tasty Starburst.

So why do I keep buying taffy? Curiosity, I guess. I found French Chew Taffy (BUY!) at Economy Candy and picked up the chocolate version pretty much just because it was there. The chocolate taste was extremely mild in both taste and smell. It reminded me of a cheap cocoa powder.

The taffy itself was incredibly creamy, and the chew actually wasn’t too sticky. It didn’t glue my teeth together, so I could actually eat it! However, I did have some issues with peeling it off the packaging. The wrapper didn’t open very cleanly either, which was a pain with the sticky taffy.

I was surprised at how low in fat this bar was. If I remember correctly, Laffy Taffy gets pretty high in fat, especially of the saturated variety. The French Chew had only 1g fat, none of it unsaturated. Because it’s hard to eat taffy slowly, I guess a French Chew would be a good snack for dieters with candy/sugar cravings. Just don’t use it to satisfy your chocolate cravings, for no true chocolate cravings could be sated with this taffy’s diluted taste. An O. Worth the try to satisfy my curiosity, but not worth another go. I ended up throwing out the rest of my bar.

They’re not sour! If you’re going to call your product Mentos Sours (BUY!), they should actually be, you know, sour. That being said, they were still pretty tasty, and I’m ashamed to admit that I polished off the entire roll in one sitting. For some reason, that always happens when I buy Mentos. Maybe because the roll packaging makes saving some for later harder? Or because when candy comes in rolls, the next candy is always right there, just begging to be eaten? Or it is because the Mentos texture of hard shell, chewy innards, and unique finish is addictively yummy? Hmm…

I was kind of annoyed at how wasteful the packaging was, especially since I ate these while I wrote the Blog Action Day post about environmentally friendly candy. The outer, completely unnecessary wrapper is printed entirely in English, while the inner wrapper has English and French on it. I guess Mentos made all the inner rolls in one place and changed the outer roll wrappings based on where they’d be sold.

The three Mentos Sours flavors are watermelon, green apple, and lemon. Or melon d’eau, pomme verte, et citron. The lemon (yellow) is nice and tangy, though I wish it were more tart and sour. The light green ones are green apple, which has a nice, slightly tart Granny Smith apple finish. The watermelon (dark green) has a sort of tart initial bite that quickly mellows out. I personally don’t think watermelon is a very good flavor to make sour and include in a sour mix that only has three flavors. I would have preferred another citrus fruit in this mix instead.

Overall, I’ll give the Mentos Sours an OM, mostly because I find Mentos to be frighteningly addictive. If they were actually bitingly sour, they may have been able to earn that extra G.

I’ve enjoyed Tootsie Fruit Roll midges (BUY!) for as long as I can remember. Now that Halloween is just around the corner, they’ll be popping up everywhere in candy grab bag mixes for Trick-or-Treaters.

Tootsie Fruit Rolls come in vanilla, lemon, lime, orange, and cherry. The citrus ones, predictably enough, are my favorite, though they’re all quite yummy for a casual candy snack. They all have a softer, chewier texture than the regular chocolate Tootsie Rolls and lack that characteristic Tootsie Roll grain to the chew. They’re similar to Starbursts, but they don’t start out hard like Starbursts do. I also think the Tootsie Fruit Rolls are stickier and thus have a greater tendency to get stuck in the nooks and crannies of my teeth

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Vanilla (blue wrapper) - First of all, I’d like to point out the blatantly obvious: vanilla is not a fruit. I guess because these aren’t tasty enough to sell on their own, Tootsie Roll decided to sneak them into the fruit mix and just hoped that no one would notice or care enough to mount a serious protest. I remember eating one of these as a kid, hating it, and never daring to eat the vanilla ones again. I ate a vanilla Tootsie Roll for the first time in years for the sake of this review…

And I didn’t think it was that bad. The fruit ones are tastier, but this had a rather pleasantly creamy vanilla-nougaty taste. I doubt Tootsie has messed with the flavor formula, so my palate must have evolved since I was five. I’d sure hope that’s the case.

Cherry - pleasantly sweet and brightly flavored with the expected candy interpretation of what cherry tastes like.

Lemon - lightly sour and almost imperceptibly tingly on the tongue. The lemon taste is good and manages to avoid the overly strong cleaning product version of lemon flavoring that some lemon candies have.

Orange - lightly sour and faithfully orange-candy flavored.

Lime - a very strong lime taste that’s sharp and sweet rather than sour. My personal favorite of the bunch.

As you can see in the above photo, these guys did not weather the New Haven humidity very well, and they got extremely sticky and hard to peel off the wrapper. See New Haven? That’s why we have air conditioning in Texas - to keep our candy from melting.

Tootsie Fruit Rolls are a classic, and I hope that means that they’ll be around forever. I don’t know if I find these guys any better or worse than Starbursts, the most successful line of fruit chews, but they are at least easier to unwrap than their square counterparts.

I bought some Tootsie Roll Frooties in lime, smooth cherry, grape, and watermelon that I saw in Economy Candy. I’ve yet to try them, and I wonder how they compare.

Remember to enter my 5 gum giveaway! 

I’ve had the regular Goetze’s caramel creams (BUY) before, and I liked them, but I found the weird texture of the caramel to be somewhat off-putting. The Chocolate and Strawberry Cow Tales also suffered, and in the Cow Tales, the weird texture became an insurmountable hurdle, possibly because the caramel to cream ratio is different.

The Chocolate Cow Tale isn’t very chocolatey in taste or smell. It reminded me of a bland Tootsie Roll. The bland chewiness of the Cow Tale descended into near waxiness after a while. Not exactly a pleasant experience. The cream in the center is the same as that of the caramel creams - a sweet cream taste with an oddly pasty, almost grainy texture. My description didn’t make the cream sound very appetizing, but it’s actually addictively tasty, especially when it comes in a good sized portion in the caramel creams.

I had high hopes for the Strawberry Cow Tale. Upon unwrapping it, I immediately noticed the strong, sweet smell of artificial strawberry. Unfortunately, it did not taste nearly as fruity as it smelled and suffered from the same issues that plagued its chocolate counterpart.

I wonder if these guys taste better in their caramel cream form, where the caramel and the cream parts are much more substantial. Sadly, the dimensions and proportions of the Cow Tales just didn’t work for me.

I’ve seen Charleston Chews (BUY) around grocery stores before, but only in big bags. I couldn’t figure out exactly what they were from the packaging, so I wasn’t ready to commit to buying a whole bag. Fortunately, I found this lone… bar? rod? roll?… version to try.

The Charleston Chew is a roll of vanilla nougat (the Tootsie Roll website says that they also come in chocolate and strawberry) covered in a thin layer of chocolate. The chocolate coating smelled of cheap, mass produced chocolate and tasted like it too. Then again, there’s something to be said for cheap, mass produced chocolate. Sometimes it can be transporting, like Proust’s madeleine. And from the retro look of the packaging, it seems that the Charleston Chew is dependent upon its ability to bring people back to their childhoods.

All in all, it’s not a bad bar. The vanilla nougat is soft and yielding, with a manageable amount of sticks-to-your-teeth-ness. Alas, I left the rest of this at home, so I will not be able to try the frozen version. If I could find the single rolls in chocolate and strawberry, I’d buy them to try them, but I wouldn’t bother buying an entire box or bag of them.