Canadian Yum-Yums
Last month, B and I hopped in his new car and drove off into the sunset (more accurately, a tree snapping thunderstorm) for a weekend in Michigan. Our quest was not complete, however, without a stop in Canada to pick up some obscure Canukian snack goodies.
So... we stopped at Mac's and spent $11 on things that looked silly. When we crossed back into Michigan, I opened everything and conducted a taste test and later repeated the experiment with my family at home. Below is your handy guide to the obscurities in Canadian snack food. All are rated out of 4 stars- 1 for vomit inducing, 4 for delicious. Here are the results!
Ketchup Chips, rank: *
My former Canadian roommate said good things about these. Even the boarder patrol man joked he'd need to charge duty on our chips. You may understand hockey, neighbors to the north, but you do not understand potato chips.
Pre-taste:
B: These definitely look weird. They're unnatural in color.
Me: I do not appreciate the smell this bag unleashed at all.
Post-taste:
Me: Imagine a bottle of ketchup sitting outside in the summer sun. It develops rancid, hard, crusty ketchup flakes around the rim. That's what these taste like.
B: I wouldn't feed these to my worst enemy.
My brother: These taste like ribs! Yum!
Dill Chips, rank: *
What would ever poses someone to flavor a chip with pickles?
Post-taste:
Me: That's so unfortunate tasting.
B: They're a little sour creamesque zangy tasting at first, then kicked into pure pickle and I almost puked.
My dad: Oh! I'd eat these!
And he did. The rest of the bag. With a sandwich for lunch the next day. Gross.
Big Turk, rank: * *
I'd describe this... if I could.
Pre-taste:
(In reaction to the label: 60% less fat than the average chocolate bar.)
B: Well that's a good thing.
Me: Which probably means it's gross.
Post-taste:
Me: Why is it purple inside?!
B: It's a big slab of licorice covered in chocolate for some reason.
Me: It tastes like a soft, sweet bubble gum interior.
B: There's too much chewing involved. It's a big glob of goo that had no where to go except to be chewed again and again and again.
Me: It didn't make me want to instantly throw up, but I didn't enjoy it.
Coffee Crisp, rank: * * * *
Pre-taste:
B: Let's do this, I already know I'll hate it. (*not a coffee fan)
Post-taste:
Me: This is nothing but that multi-layered crispy wafer candy grandma's give out on Halloween!
B: This is pretty good grandma candy, good call.
Me: I'd so get this again. And enjoy dunking it in an actual cup of coffee.
Maynards, rank: * * *
The name is really unhelpful here. Maynards are a terribly named fruity snack that claim a yummy fruit juice burst.
Pre-taste:
Me: These smell normal! But do I detect only 2 flavors? Red and purple? Yikes.
Post-taste:
Me: WHERE'S THE FRUIT BURST??!
B: There's a little bit of burst. Pretty average jellies. If Sour Patch Kids are the cream of the crop, these don't even associate. They're in a different class, they have different friends, they live in a different area. But I will have another one!
Me: I can't even comment. Why people eat gelatin based fruit candies is beyond me. There's room for only 3 sweets in my life: chocolate, jolly ranchers, and chocolate.
Fanta Tangerine, rank: * * * *
How can you go wrong with an orange soda though? (Please, Canadians, don't try to prove me wrong on that.)
Pre-taste:
Me: Oh that smells delightful!
Post-taste:
B: It's fine, it tastes like a regular orange soda.
Me: What's the difference even? Oh... I taste a little at the end. Think tangerine and then drink it.
B: Yeah... faint at the end.
My brother stole the rest of the soda for himself. An empty bottle was located at the side of his bed moments later.
Your turn now. You've been to some neat places, no? What's the oddest food you've seen/eaten?
So... we stopped at Mac's and spent $11 on things that looked silly. When we crossed back into Michigan, I opened everything and conducted a taste test and later repeated the experiment with my family at home. Below is your handy guide to the obscurities in Canadian snack food. All are rated out of 4 stars- 1 for vomit inducing, 4 for delicious. Here are the results!
Ketchup Chips, rank: *
My former Canadian roommate said good things about these. Even the boarder patrol man joked he'd need to charge duty on our chips. You may understand hockey, neighbors to the north, but you do not understand potato chips.
Pre-taste:
B: These definitely look weird. They're unnatural in color.
Me: I do not appreciate the smell this bag unleashed at all.
Post-taste:
Me: Imagine a bottle of ketchup sitting outside in the summer sun. It develops rancid, hard, crusty ketchup flakes around the rim. That's what these taste like.
B: I wouldn't feed these to my worst enemy.
My brother: These taste like ribs! Yum!
Dill Chips, rank: *
What would ever poses someone to flavor a chip with pickles?
Post-taste:
Me: That's so unfortunate tasting.
B: They're a little sour creamesque zangy tasting at first, then kicked into pure pickle and I almost puked.
My dad: Oh! I'd eat these!
And he did. The rest of the bag. With a sandwich for lunch the next day. Gross.
Big Turk, rank: * *
I'd describe this... if I could.
Pre-taste:
(In reaction to the label: 60% less fat than the average chocolate bar.)
B: Well that's a good thing.
Me: Which probably means it's gross.
Post-taste:
Me: Why is it purple inside?!
B: It's a big slab of licorice covered in chocolate for some reason.
Me: It tastes like a soft, sweet bubble gum interior.
B: There's too much chewing involved. It's a big glob of goo that had no where to go except to be chewed again and again and again.
Me: It didn't make me want to instantly throw up, but I didn't enjoy it.
Coffee Crisp, rank: * * * *
B: Let's do this, I already know I'll hate it. (*not a coffee fan)
Post-taste:
Me: This is nothing but that multi-layered crispy wafer candy grandma's give out on Halloween!
B: This is pretty good grandma candy, good call.
Me: I'd so get this again. And enjoy dunking it in an actual cup of coffee.
Maynards, rank: * * *
The name is really unhelpful here. Maynards are a terribly named fruity snack that claim a yummy fruit juice burst.
Me: These smell normal! But do I detect only 2 flavors? Red and purple? Yikes.
Post-taste:
Me: WHERE'S THE FRUIT BURST??!
B: There's a little bit of burst. Pretty average jellies. If Sour Patch Kids are the cream of the crop, these don't even associate. They're in a different class, they have different friends, they live in a different area. But I will have another one!
Me: I can't even comment. Why people eat gelatin based fruit candies is beyond me. There's room for only 3 sweets in my life: chocolate, jolly ranchers, and chocolate.
Fanta Tangerine, rank: * * * *
How can you go wrong with an orange soda though? (Please, Canadians, don't try to prove me wrong on that.)
Me: Oh that smells delightful!
Post-taste:
B: It's fine, it tastes like a regular orange soda.
Me: What's the difference even? Oh... I taste a little at the end. Think tangerine and then drink it.
B: Yeah... faint at the end.
My brother stole the rest of the soda for himself. An empty bottle was located at the side of his bed moments later.
Your turn now. You've been to some neat places, no? What's the oddest food you've seen/eaten?