Everyone has some sort of pleasure that they're able to construe as guilty. Whether it's guilty because of the potential negative ramifications it may later have, like in the case of the dearly departed DJ Screw, whose péché mignon, the infamous codeine laced "purple drank", led to his untimely death, or simply a harmless lust a la John Hinckley Jr., everyone's bound to have one. For me, it's watching Modern Family. For Keepitcoming Love, it's the genetically engineered flavor of really, really good fast food. For Swagger, it's watching Modern Family. And drinking hot sauce out of the bottle. I'm also a huge fan of all things chip-based. Doritos, Utz, Lay's, you name it, I've tipped the crumbs into my mouth.
Thanks to the innovations of Osem USA, I can now achieve my dream of creating the ultimate stoner snack without even having to go bug the kids at the local high school for a joint or two. They've created peanut-flavored Cheez Doodles with a Nutella-esque filling in the form of their hazelnut cream filled Bamba snacks. They resemble sweet Combos. I feel like the socialization section of my college career is now complete, having unlocked the final achievement of having the perfect party treat for Ganjafest 2012.
The hazelnut Bamba snacks are a pretty obvious metaphor for the guilt part of guilty pleasures, much like the obvious metaphor of working class oppression in Thomas the Tank Engine. Not really. They have less nutritional value in them than all the lyrics of Hall and Oates' "Rich Girl" and yet, like that damned song, are so fucking irresistible. The peanut flavor is predominant in this and comes across as a salty, crumbly presence like the innards of a Reeses. It works beautifully with the corn puff, which provides its own neutral flavor and a crunch. In a blind tasting, I'd have probably guessed this to be of Japanese provenance. You know what weird stuff they're always doing to their Cheetos.
But the hazelnut comes in at the very end, a subtly textured but powerfully flavored component in the puff. It creates the entire puff to melt in the mouth with its luscious, chocolatey flavor. I love these. They have all the overloaded indulgence of an American snack and the mystique of the Middle East in their baby-covered, flavor mishmash goodness. They are sublime. They could (and do) have a thousand calories in them and I wouldn't change a damned thing. It doesn't get guiltier than that. Unless you're having it with a glass of OJ and a side of Casey Anthony was fairly judged by a jury of her peers, so call a waambulance already.
Did I go too far?
Guilty pleasure.
Labels: 10, chocolate, dessert, snack
The hazelnut Bamba snacks are a pretty obvious metaphor for the guilt part of guilty pleasures, much like the obvious metaphor of working class oppression in Thomas the Tank Engine. Not really. They have less nutritional value in them than all the lyrics of Hall and Oates' "Rich Girl" and yet, like that damned song, are so fucking irresistible. The peanut flavor is predominant in this and comes across as a salty, crumbly presence like the innards of a Reeses. It works beautifully with the corn puff, which provides its own neutral flavor and a crunch. In a blind tasting, I'd have probably guessed this to be of Japanese provenance. You know what weird stuff they're always doing to their Cheetos.
But the hazelnut comes in at the very end, a subtly textured but powerfully flavored component in the puff. It creates the entire puff to melt in the mouth with its luscious, chocolatey flavor. I love these. They have all the overloaded indulgence of an American snack and the mystique of the Middle East in their baby-covered, flavor mishmash goodness. They are sublime. They could (and do) have a thousand calories in them and I wouldn't change a damned thing. It doesn't get guiltier than that. Unless you're having it with a glass of OJ and a side of Casey Anthony was fairly judged by a jury of her peers, so call a waambulance already.
Did I go too far?