Pokemon Sports Water: A Review

Snacklings, you know how it is.  You’ve spent the last several hours leveling up your Gyarados.  You’re just starting to dial him in.  He’s almost the perfect killing machine.  Then, you run into some stupid low level Diglett.  Normally, not a problem, but he gets lucky and hits you with, not one, but two Sand Attacks.  Two!  Now you can’t hit the broad side of a barn.  He’s wearing you down, slowly but surely, so you decide to go to the bullpen for some relief.  Aarg! You remember you only have a Metapod.  A Metapod? Why do you have a Metapod?  Things only get worse, and needless to say, your day is ruined, and you start to question why you even got out of bed at three in the afternoon, anyway.

No, I’m not in the throes of a fever dream.  No, I’m not having a stroke.  It’s just some Pokémon.

During my college years, I spent my summers working as a counselor at a summer camp in the Catskills.  While there, I met a ton of great people from all around the world, did the only real partying of my life, and was able to locate the whitest trash person that has ever lived.  He was the caretaker of the camp, who I’m sure only even had a name because the government requires it.  Seriously, he made those rustic scamps from Deliverance look like tenured Oxford professors.  I also met the awesome lady who would eventually become my wife (she worked in the arts and crafts barn and gave me a pillow shaped like Dan from the Real World Miami).

It was good times.

My first summer there, in 1999, Pokémon was huge.  Whenever my campers had any downtime before lunch, dinner, or lights out, every kid in the bunk would bust out his Gameboy and go at his copy of Pokémon Red, Blue, or Yellow.  After a few weeks, the kids eventually convinced me to buy a Gameboy and a copy of the game.  I got it at the “local” Walmart.  Only 30 miles away!  It remains the only Gameboy game I’ve ever owned.

I got completely hooked on it! Nearly 90 hours of Yellow gameplay that summer, and that’s not counting the countless hours spent talking strategy with my campers.  I tried to keep up with the game in the months after camp, but it wasn’t the same.  A solo PokéMaster is a lonely PokéMaster.

I’ve contemplated jumping back into some of the newer games, but now it looks completely over my head.  And I don’t have any knowledgeable 12 year olds to explain everything to me.

Instead, I triumphantly return to the world of the pocket monster in packaged drink form! I picked this up at the Japan Pavilion on my last trip to Epcot.  I don’t really know a lot about it because the site referenced on the pouch is in Japanese. I think it’s made by a company called Dragonfly.

What I can tell you is that it’s a sports drink, and I know this because of the following blurbs on the product page that have been translated Googley:

“I love everyone! Soft pouch convenient to carry the character of Pokémon. Person to accompany and outdoor exercise.”

“I is well-suited to replenish the fluid lost during exercise and sports festival, the children in the outdoors.”

I’m calling it Pokémon Sports Water.  The pouches also come in Grape, Muscat, and Apple.

The nosegrope is slightly citrusy.  It reminded me of a muted whiff of Sunny Delight.

The taste is hard to pin down so I’m going to use another comparison.  It reminded me of Arctic Shatter Powerade.  That flavor was rebranded as White Cherry, which I did not understand because I didn’t think it tasted like cherry, which makes this all the more confusing.  It has a mild level of sweetness.  It’s sort of citrusy.  A little like flat Sprite.  And you can definitely tell it’s a sports drink.  You wouldn’t mistake it for a juice.

It’s not bad.  I’ve had flavors of Gatorade that I haven’t liked as much. They should really bring these out of the back of the store and sell them iced out front. They’d be great for high noon theme park hydration.

So the next time you’re schlepping past the pagoda or out at a sports festival and you’re feeling Mega Drained, reach for a pouch of Pokémon Sports Water for a quick Replenish of your HP.  It’s super effective!

Pepsi White Orange: A Review

Winter is coming to a close here in St. Petersburg.  I’ve packed away my long shorts for my slightly shorter shorts. I’ll soon be swapping out my old Walmart flip flops for new Walmart flip flops.  The decrepit, migratory old people are beginning to head north to plague their home cities with their absurdly dangerous driving skills, taking with them whatever dolphin-emblazoned tchotchkes and panama jack hats they purchased after a season’s worth of leathering themselves at the beach.  And soon our streets will run douche with the douche of douches as every dude-bro and hoochbag stumble out of their Midwestern dorm rooms, squinting drunkenly into the sun, and doing their best to pretend that they are like the famous New Jersey sub-humans they so desperately want to be.

But my life shan’t really be affected, as I head out to the beach once every two years or so.  Who could be bothered?  Anakin was right.  Sand is the worst.  That’s where all his anger started.

My younger, college-aged, Hawaiian shirt-sporting, puka-shell-necklace-wearing, roofless-doorless-Jeep-Wrangler-driving, Jimmy-Buffet-listening, 8-earring-rocking, blonde-tipped-spiky-hair-having self would be ashamed.  Ashamed I tell you! I had a semester a friend and I dubbed the Semester at Sea because of the frequency of our beach excursions.

I used to walk into class with sand on me!  There wasn’t a time when you wouldn’t find a body board in my backseat! I was a walking bronze billboard for bad college phasery.

But that guy drowned in the gulf somewhere along the way, and now I’m a pale bitter old man.  So don’t even think of tracking any of that damn sand in here.  You hear me?!  I mean it!

So while we’ve got about a month left of the brutal Florida winter (I think we had a low of 46 degrees), I thought I should review the latest winter release from Pepsi Japan.

Pepsi Japan is never short on interesting seasonal releases, though this Pepsi White Orange is a far less unusual proposition than their previous Pepsi Pink and Salty Watermelon.  I bought this through NapaJapan, my go-to Japanese importer (I don’t get anything for saying that), who listed this flavor as “mikan,” and as I speak no Japanese, I’ll take their word for it.  Mikan is a seedless orange found in Japan.  It’s also called the Satsuma.  I’m embarrassed to say that I only became familiar with that word through its frequent referencing on the always great The Mighty Boosh.

As with previous limited editions, the bottle is great.  And that snowman with an orange for a nose is adorable.

The nosegrope is very lightly orange.  A gentle orange wisp, if you will.  It’s a few steps removed from a straight, violently orange-colored orange soda.

The first thing that stands out is that the orange flavor is very light. It’s orange flavor like you’d find in other sodas, but dialed way down.  It’s layered over a fairly recognizable Pepsi base.  As a whole it retains a surprising amount of Pepsi flavors.  I don’t know how they did that while keeping the soda hazily white. I know for a fact that oranges are orange in nature and Pepsi pods are always dark brown when they are perfectly ripe.

Pepsi White Orange also has a pretty heavy mouthfeel.  Its sticky after the fact, which I guess is good, because you want all the extra mouth insulation you can get during the frigid days of winter.  Uvula freezing affects one out of every ten people.  We all need to raise awareness.

It also seems more lightly carbonated than Pepsi proper.

Overall, this is an enjoyable soda.  It’s not wildly outlandish or weird for the sake of being weird.  It could be a day brightener for those in northern climes suffering through grey skies and inches of snow, or it could be just another quirky accessory for those farther south, trying on personalities while making poor life decisions. Just think how good it would look sticking out of a sand-flecked cooler.  That’s a snow globe idea if I’ve ever heard one.

Happy spring everyone!  Please don’t come to Florida!

Mike Tyson’s Black Energy Drink: A Review

Yep.  Mike Tyson has his own energy drink.  And it’s called Black Energy.  And it’s from Poland.

And I reviewed it on The Impulsive Buy.

(TIB) Mike Tyson's Black Energy 2

And if you’ve missed my other reviews on The Impulsive Buy, why not pour yourself a tumbler of Black Energy, put on some cozies, stoke the fire, and catch up.

Seaweed Pringles from Thailand

CMMG Tactical Bacon

Salty Watermelon Pepsi from Japan

Good Humor’s Peppermint Pattie Ice Cream Bars and Mounds Ice Cream Bars

G.H. Cretors Popped Corn

The Better Chip’s All Natural Tortilla Chips

 

 

Rogue’s Voodoo Doughnut Chocolate, Peanut Butter and Banana Ale: A Review

I am not a manly man.

I am a man, certainly.  I have all of the requisite parts and more than enough body hair thanks to the Serbian half of my family.  But I am not manly, per se.

I don’t watch the sports.  Automobiles do not excite me.  I’ve never engaged in fisticuffs.

On more than one occasion, a person has accidentally touched my hands and remarked how alarmingly soft they are.

I have a small but respectable collection of Department 56 miniature, Victorian Christmas village houses.

And last week when trying to hang a shelf (for my collection of Masters of the Universe action figures, ladies), it took me three tries and about a dozen wall holes before the thing was level.  Though I’m glad to report that that was one try fewer than my previous effort at hanging a shelf (for more of my Masters of the Universe action figures, ladies).

A part of me envies those guys.  The ones who can build things with wood.  And who can use fire to stick metal to metal with other metal.  And who can grow thick luxurious mustaches. And who haven’t seen every episode of Felicity.

But I am not one of those, and probably never will be.  And I’m ok with that.  The world needs delicate philosopher internet gentleman imaginists, too!

However, on occasion, I have been known to man it up.  If the mood strikes me, I will put on my athletic pants and toss around the old flying disc.  And just the other day I watched an entire quarter of the Super Bowl.  It was delightful.

So this week, I’m keeping that residual testosterone flowing with a beer review!  A beer that comes in an amazing pink bottle, but still, a beer.

Last year, Rogue Ales of Portland, teamed up with Voodoo Doughnuts of Portland and released their Bacon Maple Ale, a beer modeled after their famous Bacon Maple Bar.  While I didn’t love it as a beverage, I did love it as an astonishingly accurate feat of flavor engineering.

This year, the Portland duo has teamed up again and released a liquid version of Voodoo’s Memphis Mafia doughnut.  It is this Chocolate, Peanut Butter, and Banana Ale.  That name alone.  Come on.  High hopes.

Popping the top of the pink bottle yielded a pleasant banana nosegrope.  Not too in your face, not too artificial.  There is also a hint, A HINT, of chocolate happening somewhere in all that banana.  After a frothy pour, the banana nosegrope really gets unleashed from the head.  Chocolate be damned.

High hopes dashed.  The taste is not as superbly fashioned as I would have hoped.  A strong, slightly sweet malt flavor dominates the tongue, followed by more of those banana notes hinted at in the nosegrope.  Chocolatey?  I don’t know, there are some dark, possible coffee-ish notes, but I wouldn’t call them chocolate.  Maybe a hint, A HINT!  Definitely not as much as other chocolate-infused brews I’ve had.  And as for the peanut butter, forget it.  I couldn’t find any anywhere.

Overall, this is a pretty mild, smooth, drinkable beer.  I was disappointed by it, but I liked it.  It’s not as freakish or novel as the Bacon Maple Ale, but also, not as interesting.  I was wondering how all of those flavors were going to present themselves when I first heard about this release. That would have been a pretty miraculous feat indeed.  But they gave it a shot, and I look forward to next year’s release.  Maybe it will be their Miami Vice Berry or their Cap’n Crunch doughnut.  Fingers crossed.

For now, I’m excited.  I’m excited that I now have two awesome pink monoliths in my kitchen. And I’m excited because I’m a man.  A man who drinks banana-flavored beer from a very pretty bottle, but still, a man.

Jolly Rancher Gelatin: A Review

I’ve been getting into powders lately.  Kool-Aid, Jell-O, baking, freshly fallen yet uncompacted snow, the 1995 movie starring Sean Patrick Flanery and Jeff Goldblum.  Ok, maybe not.  It’s really just been Kool-Aid and Jell-O.

I am fascinated to no end by Kool-Aid and Jell-O.  Besides their excellent use of hyphens, they are like glrious little edible chemistry sets.  Especially Jell-O.  Come on.  There is a special joy that comes from mixing water with a brightly colored powder and having the result be a glistening, jiggly, radiant jewel of fruit-flavored ecstasy.  I might be overselling that.  But still.  It’s pretty great.  And there’s always room for it.

Both of these powdered food products only recently re-appeared on my mental horizon.  Sure when I was a kid Kool-Aid and Jell-O were the bee’s knees.  But then I grew up.  And as you grow up, you put away powdery things.  That’s in the bible.  Why do we that?  Are we too good for Kool-Aid?  Too adult for Jell-O?  I say nay.  We are not.  Certainly I am not.

So in the coming weeks I may be launching a series of posts dedicated to the delights of both.  But until then, this review of a name brand, off-brand gelatin product will have to do.

These aren’t new products.  Just new to me.  I saw them at Walmart the other day.  I forget why I was there, but as always, after I dodged my way through the sub-human bloboids running time trials in their mobility scooter grand prix, I found myself in the snack aisle.  (Tip for surviving the scooters: Stick to the garment sections.  Less room to maneuver.  Also remember, they are just as afraid of you as you are of them.)

These two boxes jumped out at me because I don’t really run into the Jolly Rancher logo anywhere anymore.  It seems to me they’ve lost a little street cred and a lot shelf space.  Growing up, I was all about the Jolly Ranchers.  The sticks to be specific.  Sure the little Jolly Ranchers are great, but those long, flat sticks.  Man.

It also happens that Green Apple and Watermelon were and are my two favorite flavors.  Actually, they might be everyone’s favorite flavors.  Hence their selection for gelatinization.

There’s not much to say about these.  Neither the delightfully tart Green Apple nor the deliciously sweet Watermelon disappoint.  They smell and taste exactly like their hard candy counterparts.  I guess that’s not surprising.  I don’t know how Jolly Ranchers are made (get on that, Mark Summers), but I imagine all incarnations could start as a powder.  Maybe the gelatin just lacks a hardening agent?  Seems reasonable.  Also, The Hardening Agent is the tentative name of the new crime procedural I’m developing for the Food Network.

If it’s been a while since you’ve caroused with some gelatin, maybe it’s time to get back in touch with your inner jiggle.  Keep these in mind for your next powdered foods themed dinner party.  Sure they’re not Jell-O, but your uppity bourgeois guests won’t mind.  They’ll be too busy reminiscing about youthful days spent at the local convenience store dropping quarters on candy and the Final Fight machine.

And there’s always room for reminiscing…

Just like there’s always room for Jell-O.  Though again, this is not Jell-O.  Just gelatin.  But you knew what I meant.

(Side note: Pics not the greatest this week.  Picture size was accidentally set to Why Would Anyone Take a Picture This Small.  Apologies.)

Takis Fuego, Guacamole, and Crunchy Fajita: A Review

Way back in the olden days of 2011, I wrote a post about Doritos Flamas, a particularly foul little chili-lime offering from Frito-Lay.  Since then it has grown to be one of the most popular pages on my blog, nearly eclipsing my Batman Cereal review that blew up on Boing Boing and got traffic nearing what a legitimate fancy pants blog would get.  Three out of the top ten search terms that lead people to Food Junk involve some variation on “Doritos Flamas.” It is also easily the most commented on post I have.  People love these things and feel the desperate need to tell me why I am wrong about them.  Which is fine.  I welcome well thought out, reasonable differences of opinion.

However, this is the internet.  I have lost count of how many poorly spelled, violently angry, grammatically atrocious, didn’t-even-know-punctuation-was-a-thing comments I have deleted since the post went up. And I always delete them because life is too short for that hatefoolery.

So I would like to take a few minutes to hold palaver with you cretinous sub-humanoid commenters who don’t really understand how, well, everything works.

First of all, this is a blog about junk food.  I write about potato chips and soda.  And that’s not when I’m eating possibly toxic decades old cereal or referencing Slimer.  So calm down.

Second of all, this is my blog and I get to say whatever I want.  They’re all my opinions.  And you know what they say about opinions, don’t you?  You’re an asshole, and I don’t care about yours.  Should you be able to wrest your attention away from whatever it is Charlie Sheen is doing this week, feel free to set up your own blog and attempt to string together a few monosyllabic proto-words in the approximate order in which English sentences are most often found.

Third through fifth of all:

“You’re” is a contraction meaning “you are.”  “Your” is a possessive pronoun.  It shows you own something.

“Loser” is a person who loses.  “Looser” is a comparative adjective that means “not tight fitting.”

And “definitely” is an adverb that means “without any question.”  “Defiantly,” while still an adverb (at least you got close there), means “in a rebellious manner.”

At some point in your high school careers you probably were taught those things by those people in that big building that made you read.  But don’t sweat it.  You were probably distracted.  The new Scary Movie sequel came out that week, and you’d also just had the realization that after you graduated you’d never have to look at another book again.

And lastly, feel free to learn how to divorce yourself from your opinions.  I know your entire identity is wrapped up in the things you are consuming (nice Monster tattoo, by the way), but just because I don’t like the thing you like, that doesn’t mean I am personally attacking your value as a human being.  It just means that I don’t like the thing that you like.  And that’s ok.

As a Star Wars fan, and more recently as a Lost fan, I encounter this all the time, especially with my wife, whom I love dearly.  She hated Lost.  HATED Lost.  If she was cast as the Hulk in The Avengers instead of Mark Ruffalo, her big dramatic moment would have been when she turned back to the group and said, “That’s my secret, Captain.  I’m always angry at Lost.”  And then smashed all the things.

To the commenter who said, “The problem with blogs is that everyone has a different opinion,” no, that is not the problem.  That is the best thing about blogs.  You are the problem.  You will live an entire lifetime, and never really get it.  And by “it” I mean everything that exists in the world that is interesting.  And that’s not my opinion.

Well, now that I’ve fixed internet culture, I’d like to go back to what brought us here in the first place.  Doritos Flamas.

In that post’s comment thread, many lucid and delightful commenters steered me toward Takis, a corn snack I was wholly unfamiliar with.  I kept them on the radar but didn’t really run into any until my hetero lifemate Erik presented me with a few bags when I visited him in Texas.

I tried three varieties: Crunchy Fajita, Guacamole, and Fuego, which is the hot chili pepper and lime variety that drew the Flamas comparison.

I started with the Crunchy Fajitas.  First off, can fajitas be crunchy?  Aren’t fajitas usually wrapped in soft tortillas?  The package says “taco flavored.”  Shouldn’t they just be Crunchy Taco?  Are fajitas and tacos the same thing, and am I completely misunderstanding Mexican cuisine?  Quite possibly.

The nosegrope of the Crunchy Fajita called to mind taco day in elementary school.  Notes of those stiff generic corn taco shells “filled” with that equally generic taco seasoned “meat.”

From first crunch to the last, these taste like taco seasoning.  Which is not bad.  Their saving grace is that the seasoning is not overwhelming.  They are actually pretty good.

Second up was Guacamole.  The nosegrope was surprisingly citrusy.  Hints of lime I suppose.

Upon first crunch, I noticed a similar hint of lime and then a lot of bright guacamole-approximating flavor.  Not change-your-life guacamole flavor by any means, but I think you could tell they were going for avocados.  Again, pretty good.

Finally, the Fuego.  Kind of surprised by the lack of exclamation points.  Especially that upside down one that precedes words.  Seems like someone dropped the pelota. (Snort.)

The nosegrope of the Fuego was chili powder and not much else.

These present an interesting mouth experience.  At first there is a sweep of lime.  Then the heat and flavor of the chilies  then a re-sweep of the lime.  The heat is not over the top, but it definitely lingers a while.  These are infinitely better than Doritos Flamas.  They don’t taste like poorly spiced Froot Loops.  Instead, the flavors used here work well as a whole and complement each other nicely.  Well recommended commenters.  I doff my novelty-sized sombrero to all of you.

Takis are good.  I’d eat them again, though I’m still not in love with the whole rolled tube thing.  I think it’s the density.  I like my chips thin and triangular like the good Sancho Panza intended.

But what do I know?  That’s just my opinion.

Jumpin’ Jack Doritos: A Review

In an attempt to raise myself from the stupor I was in at the end of 2012, I’ve been trying to re-immerse myself in the junk food scene.  I’ve been cruising the Japanese import sites, snagging what I think are the most interesting jewels.  I’ve been dreaming up some ideas for some future thematic post series that may or may not ever see the light of day.  I’ve been catching up with all of my favorite blogs.  And yesterday, I spent two hours at Starbucks researching Kool-Aid and its collecting culture.  (At Starbucks I sat near two be-gothed college drama students, so to catch you up, Craig doesn’t seem gay, but he is totally gay.)

Just when I thought I was nearing the current edge of the foodoblogosphere, I stumble upon this bag of chips as I was exiting a grocery store.  Not only did I not know these Jumpin’ Jack Doritos were being re-released, but I did not know Jumpin’ Jack Doritos were even a thing in the first place.  I bet Craig knew about them.  He’s always up on stuff like that.

These Doritos were originally released in the early 90s.  1990 if Wikipedia is to be believed.  My research ultimately yielded very little save a commercial starring Jay Leno filmed at the painful nexus of late 80s and early 90s youth fashion.  So many jackets.


The last time I attempted to research a re-released Dorito variant was when Frito-Lay released Sour Cream and Onion.  I didn’t find much then either.  I even emailed Frito-Lay to ask a few questions for that post, but I didn’t get a response.  Not even an automated one.  I bet Craig would’ve gotten a response (or Marvo).  Probably a phone call.

I’m bothered by the lack of historical resources for many junk foods, especially in the way of specific varieties and their release dates and production runs. Someone should write a book about that sort of thing.  They could easily sell ten copies.  I’d buy one.  Seriously, I would.

But added bonus, during my research I discovered that Doritos were invented at Disneyland! At the Casa de Fritos in Frontierland!  I’m filing that away in my mental minutiae banks.  That could very well win me the next Trivial Pursuit night. Though I do feel like I should have known that and that everyone probably does know that already.  Did you all know that?  Am I the last one on the safari boat again?  You guys are so smart.  That’s why I hang out with you.

These Jumpin’ Jack Doritos are great.  I mean besides the retro packaging and my love for the old Doritos logo, these things really put the snack in my midnight snack!  (I’m sorry.  I don’t know what I was going for there.)

The ingredients litany lists the cheese coating as a mix of cheddar and Monterey Jack.  The chips start cheddary but then definitely lean more towards the Monterey Jack.  The cheesiness is a nice departure from the regular Nacho Cheese variety.  They also weren’t as heavily dredged in flavor powder as the Nacho Cheeses.  They were dusted more along the lines of Cool Ranch.  Not a complaint.

The level of spice is also spot on.  It’s not a heat, just a subtle level of pepperiness that coats the tongue towards the second half of the chew interval.  Very nice.

Jumpin’ Jack Doritos are an excellent addition, or re-addition, to the Doritos lineup.  Keep an eye out for these.  Pick up a bag for your next sports watching party.  People will be pleased.  But if you invite Craig, make sure you get some vegan chips, too.  You know how he is.  And with the stress of the new Joseph production he’s in, ugh, he’s been a nightmare.

Casa de Fritos.

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