Monday, December 11, 2006

The Best Gummy Bears

Written by Snackblog

Gummy bears are a snack often looked down upon by other snack elitists, considering them to just be a colorful gimmick, not worthy of any sort of respect. Even snack elitists who I greatly respect will not give certain companies a second chance, and aren't even willing to find a company that might reach their high standards. I had a recent conversation with Alexander Gliston, a very well respected snack elitist in the snack-scene, and even he stated:

"Many SE's don't take gummy bears seriously due to their connection to small screaming children and low-end ice cream palors. I personally try to see past things like these, for objectivity's sake. But still, gummy bears consistently manage to have issues in taste. I think the only serious snack lovers that actually like gummy bears have a weird color and taste synesthesia. "


Later in our conversation, I found that the, "consistent . . . issues in taste" That Dr. Gliston was referring to was about the fact that green gummy bears always happen to taste downright awful. Every other color could be outstanding, but then you pop that little green bear in your mouth, and it just tastes so nauseatingly artificial. I asked Dr. Gliston about his specific critique on the average green gummy bear, and it went something like this:

Snackblog: So, what exactly do you not like about the green ones?

Alexander Gliston: That's a stupid question. You know they're terrible. You know I know they're terrible. Don't ask me stupid questions.

Snackblog: I'm sorry, I just wanted to hear your dislikes about the green bears in full detail. I find always find your critiques to be incredibly eye-opening and intellectual.

Alexander Gliston: They taste like pool chlorine.

Snackblog: Well, that sounds a little exaggerated.

Alexander Gliston: I didn't get a doctorate in Snack Elitism to be back-talked by some no name, worthless, Hostess grade, faux-SE blog-talker. They taste like pool chlorine. I've tasted many different types of pool chlorine, and many different types of green gummy bears. They taste the same.

Snackblog: Pool chlorine in particular? Not just normal chlorine?

Alexander Gliston: Yes, pool chlorine, peasant.

Yes, it was quite embarrassing to be berated by the great Dr. Gliston. But, it made me into a better man. For some reason, I felt a burning desire that I, Snackblog, must prove the man wrong. I asked some friends for help, and one of them, Alexis, in particular, told me about Harmony gummy bears. So, I went to a grocery, picked up some of the Harmony Gummy Bears, and went at it. The first few bears I ate were very nice. Mildly sweet, pleasant, and very natural tasting compared to other gummy candies. But once I got to the yellows and greens, everything changed. Those two colors had a oddly artificial/chemical taste in their tartness. It was like playing Russian Snack Roulette, but with two bullets instead of one. Disgusted, I had to set the snack down, and instead I pondered on what other company I should move towards.

I remembered. I remembered a certain time when my older sister had come back from a trip in Germany, and she brought back a certain type of delicious, wonderful gummy bear. I promptly googled "German gummy bears", and the second link down sent me to the wonderful world of Haribo. I promptly picked up some Haribo Gold Bears from a grocery, and I quickly started chewing on the bears. Ugh... something was disgustingly different from the last time I remembered eating these. Each bear seemed to have a little bit of that chemical tartness that I so despise. The disappointment broke me. I completely gave up hope in trying to find a bear that would sate my desire for a good, natural tasting gummy.

A week later, one of my friends came over, just to see how things were going. He was eating some candy out of a small golden colored box, and he asked if I wanted the rest. I accepted the box, and was extremely surprised that they turned out to be the same Haribo Gold Bears that I had come to hate! I was disgusted, and wanted to look so, but I hid those feelings away for the sake of good manners. I reached into the box, grabbed a couple bears, and put them in my mouth.



They were absolutely amazing. They had a sweet, tart, but very naturally fruity taste that made me ecstatic to try every other flavor. The reds, the yellows, the oranges, and even the whites were incredible. And then I got to the greens, and they were, wow, just as good as the other flavors! Every flavor was utterly palatable, and very enjoyable. All even had a distinct taste, so I never got bored of the box. I just kept on chewing, and chewing, until the box was all but empty. Curious, I grabbed the old pack of Gold-Bears from before, that I still had not finished, and I did a side-by-side taste comparison. Yup, the old pack still had the artificially tart taste, while, on the other hand, the ones from the box were still incredibly amazing. I did a visual check on the bears, and they were all the same. I checked the ingredients list, and they were still all the same. Then I checked where each one was made, and I found that the bad Gold-Bears in the normal plastic bag were made in Hungary, while the ones in the box were made in Spain.

It's been about three years since this discovery, and I have repeated the tests over again many times, and the same results occur: the Gold-Bears made in Hungary are vastly inferior to the ones of Spanish (factory) descent. In the US, I have found that the Gold-Bears in the common five ounce plastic bags are always from the Hungarian factory. The smaller bags, to which I'm unsure on in exact weight, are usually made in Spain, along with the Gold-Bears in the box packaging, similar in packaging to candy you'd buy at a movie theater. Also, the Mini Gold-Bears are made in Spain, and are just as delicious as their larger counterparts.

I'm planning to send a letter over to Alexander Nicole Gliston, showing him that he has been proven wrong by my delicious discovery. Yes, I've found out that Nicole is his middle name, and I plan to bring it up the next time we meet. I also plan to order a 5 pound pack of Gold-Bears so I can bludgeon him to death.


You can find (Spanish factory) Haribo Gold-Bears at:
- Cost Plus World Market sells the Mini Haribo Gold-Bears from time to time.
- Some 7-11's have the theater packs.


Jackon and his Computer Band - Utopia

Wednesday, November 29, 2006

The Best Macaroni and Cheese

Written by Snackblog

Before I get around to unveiling the best macaroni and cheese, I need to talk about something very important, and it's not just important to me, but to all of you too. All of you reading this very blog. So, a couple of people at most.


Fork.
A short, unfinished story by Eric Hesson (not me)

When I was in Prague last June, I was kidnapped by the local militia and forced into slavery for eight weeks. Every day, twice a day, we were fed the same meal: the bloody uncooked fragments of leftover animal parts not eaten by the guards. They were covered in filth, having sat idly on the insect-ridden ground for hours, and most of them contained all sorts of bacterious diseases. I thought I would never encounter any edible item more grotesque and detestable than that. I was wrong...




Ok, say you had this alien, whose feces happened to be macaroni shaped, and you collect a bowl of it. And then you take those feces, and put them into a cannon of sorts. And then you take some kid with sh** for brains whose body fluid is all disgustingly yellow like that creepy guy in Sin City. Oh, I mean sh** for brains in a very literal sense. The omni-yellow stinky kid has yellow sh**, sitting, in, his, skull.

So, you've got the cannon stuffed with macaroni shaped feces at point A, and at point B, you've got the yellow kid. Then, the cannon is fired from point A, sending the feces projectile towards point B (it's going really, really fast), right into the yellow kid's sh** filled skull. The macaroni shaped feces don't have enough momentum to carry out the back of the skull, so instead they slosh around with the yellow sh**.





Anyway, the best macaroni and cheese is Annie's Shells and Cheddar, Shells and White Cheddar, and Mild Mexican Shells and Cheddar. All of them. They are all delicious, especially the Mild Mexican Shells and Cheddar, which actually has a decent amount of spiciness, especially for a "mild". But, not everyone likes spicy food, so I'm just giving all three the award, and I'll be calling them the Annie's Trinity from now on. A three in one kind of deal, so this one title can apply to all of them, but they're really three different entities.


The key factor in Annie's winning this, is that the Annie's brand of mac and cheese actually tastes like real cheese. It's amazing, and delicious. The real cheese along with the shells is incredible. Because, the shell-like shape of the pasta causes the cheese to clump up within the pasta, causing tiny, incredible cheese explosions in your mouth with every chew. Yes, I know these shells aren't technically macaroni, but I don't care. This stuff is delicious, and it's the best macaroni, ever. Just make sure to cook it with a good amount of butter, and please use milk, not watery water. Soy milk works well too.


Where you can find the Annie's Trinity:
- Almost anywhere. They're even at my local Longs Drugs.
- The Mild Mexican Shells and Cheddar are much harder to find than the other two. Try smaller groceries that tend to stock a lot of organic items.


TV on the Radio - Blues From Down Here

Wednesday, November 22, 2006

The Best Grape Soda

Written by Snackblog

We all know this flavor. It's purple, it's sweet, and it doesn't taste anything like actual grapes, but we all love it regardless.

Except me -- I'm better than that.

I've been trying out grape sodas for... awhile, and for the title of "The Best Grape Soda" there are actually a few contenders: Fizzy Lizzy Concord Grape Soda, Steaz Grape Soda, and Santa Cruz Organic Concord Grape Soda.

The Fizzy Lizzy tastes the most like actual grapes. It is the least sweet out of the three and has a grape flavor that almost tastes like wine. It has a very complex, very realistic taste, even having a slightly bitter flavor associated with the peel of a grape. Although I do love real fruit, and I really love sodas that actually taste like them, I have a couple problems with this drink. First of all, the Fizzy Lizzy barely qualifies as a soda. It has hardly any carbonation in it, definitely not enough for the nice tingle that I expect out of a good soda. Secondly, this soda tastes way too much like real grapes, but maybe even less sweet. I really think that describing its flavor as a very mild red wine (minus the alcohol), is pretty damn accurate. If I want to taste grapes, I'll eat some grapes. If I want wine, I'll steal it out of my roommate's cabinet. When I want soda, I want candy in a liquid state.

Now onto the Santa Cruz Organic Concord Grape, because this is really easy to describe. Get a normal can of grape soda, replace the nasty corn-syrup stuff with organic cane sugar for a cleaner flavor, and add in a little taste of actual grapes. Tastes great, but it's not anything amazing. If you want the classic non-grape taste of a grape soda, but better and more grape tasting, then try this one out.

So, two sodas down, which only leaves one for the crown.
Brrrpbrrrrpbrrrrbrrrbrrrp... (a sound of a horn playing something majestic).

Glorious. Behold the Steez Grape Soda. Everything from the sweetness down to the carbonation is perfect, and its balance between a realistic grape flavor and a "grape" candy is amazing. I don't know how the people at Steaz did it. You drink it, and it's unmistakably grape, but so much... so, utterly better. I bet there was just this one day, where the owner of Steaz Soda got really pissed at god/God/the gods, maybe because his/her game of golf got rained on, or something. Or, maybe it was because his/her puppy died, or a kitten maybe? Or, maybe it was because he/she had to give up all his/her bone marrow in his/her lower body, thus paralyzing him/her and ending his/her prolific but short lived dance career, in order to save his/her true love who had some terrible, rare disease, but then the transplant failed anyway and she/he died.

But regardless, he/she (probably) pointed at the sky and challenged god/God/the gods, outright. He/she challenged god/God/the gods to make something that would taste better than his/her/their original creation. And by god/God/the gods, it does taste better than an actual grape. Man, I don't know how Steaz does this, but all their sodas have the cleanest aftertaste, ever. Right after you swallow, there are no weird, clingy, syrupy tastes at all. There is just a slightly sweet, green tea aftertaste that you can barely notice.

Oh, and it's organic too, thank god/God/the gods.



You can find these sodas at:

- I've mostly seen these at places that stock a lot of organic items, like Whole Foods (I don't think that Trader Joe's has these, but I'm not dead sure).


Gang Starr - You Know My Steez

Saturday, November 18, 2006

The Best Root Beer

Written by Snackblog

One thing I failed to mention in my "What is SnackBlog?" article, is that this is going to be a review site. Yea, that's what I have planned. I managed to skip over that for some reason. To start is all off, I'm planning to list off the best snacks I've ever had, and in order to convince you, I want to start this list off with an indisputable truth:

This is the best root beer. That's it. It's the alpha and the omega, the beginning and end of the root beer world. Henry Weinhard’s isn't rooty enough, Dad's Root Beer is just a better Mug/A&W, IBC tastes like water, and every other rootbeer you can name falls short before the glory of Virigil's Root Beer. It has the ultimate sweet, creamy, and full bodied taste, but avoids the syrupy aftertaste that would normally accompany a drink this sweet and full tasting. The rootiness of the drink is also very pleasant and accessible, but not as sharp as other types of root beer I’ve had, such as the very enjoyable Buckin Rootbeer, with its sharp, almost medicinal taste. But I am not saying that the rootiness of Virgil’s is weak, as it has rooty taste that is strong enough to stay at the forefront of the overall flavor, from the initial swig down to the sweet aftertaste.

What is surprising is that Virgil uses anise and licorice as the foundation of its rootiness instead of the standard sarsaparilla flavor, giving it a pleasant taste similar to black licorice. However, its taste is still easily classifiable as a root beer. Please, do not just call it a simple “root beer” though; this stuff is The Ultimate Root Beer. Address it as so, or just live in the shadow of your beverage ignorance.

Anyway, speaking of root beer, it's time to go into to some Snack History. A&W Root Beer tastes terrible for a reason. We'll start at the name, A-&-W. It's not a combination of names. It's not a famous intersection of roads. It’s just a typo. Yea, really, it’s just a typo. It was supposed to be called AUW. As you can see, when holding the shift to type in caps, it can be easy to hit the 7/& above the U, resulting in the A&W you see now. It was going to be called AUW, because after people would drink this horse piss they would say something along the lines of:

"AUW, WTF IS THIS?"

AUW was initially made as a drink to send over to France during the World’s Fair in Paris (1844), and was equivalent to a grade school practical joke. But, with the fatal typo, people didn't see the humor and actually started liking it.

Ugh, how atrocious.


Where to find Virgil's:
- At any grocery store that's a little more classy than your average large chain grocery.
- Trader Joe's
- Whole Foods Market


Bonobo - Transmission 94 (parts 1 and 2)

Tuesday, November 07, 2006

What is SnackBlog?

Written by Snackblog

I know what it is, mainly because it is my brainchild. Mine. No shared custody baloney. This site is under my jurisdiction, judgement, and foot -- its basically going to be the best site (about snack), ever.

So, there it is. That's SnackBlog. A more perplexing question would be, "What content will SnackBlog have?" Yea, umm. I don't know, ever.

I'm hoping that its going to be an internet safe-haven for my unbridled love of snacks and all the elitism that somehow goes with it. Yes, I am a snack elitist. That is my title. You wouldn't call Eugene Anderson a, "Mr. Anderson", He's, "Dr. Anderson." If you fail to, he would probably stab you with his Mercedes key. I am a Snack Elitist. And if you fail to call me so in public, or private, I will probably laugh at your undistinguished can of crap you might call, "a soda" and indignantly sip on my refreshing Steaz organic green tea carbonated beverage. Oh, like a fruity mountain spring it is, with a light tea aftertaste, too.

I think Coca-Cola and Pepsi are as filthy as toilet water, and Doritos taste like the floor tiles of a bad Mexi-Resturant. I have a high taste, and a sharp motherf***ing wit. And in the name of snack, I will use it.

Let thy (SnackBlog's) will be done.