It's time I revisited my favorite food--cheese. Which is, of course, a very common food type around the world. Except, I suppose, in areas where lactose intolerance is the norm, such as South America (especially Southern South America), Africa (especially Sub Saharan areas), and Southern Asia (particularly in the Southeastern parts). Anyway, I found this cheese in my local Shop Rite supermarket. It's a traditional Mexican cheese called cotija.
The history of cotija is pretty vague. The name is from a town in the state of Michoacan. However, its inception date, and the inventor's name(s) I couldn't discover. Cheese wasn't produced in Mexico until after the Spanish arrived, with their cows, sheep, and goats, and long years of cheese making techniques, so at its oldest cotija is still less than 500 years old.
Cotija is a hard cheese. Young versions are often compared to Greek feta cheese in texture, and aged versions are dry and crumbly, similar to the Italian Parmigiano Riggiano (aka Parmesan). In fact, cotija is sometimes referred to as the "Parmesan of Mexico." Cotija is intensely salty, in part to help preserve it in Mexico's usually hot climate. Traditionally it's made from raw cow's milk, and aged 3-12 months. Some commercialized variants add an enzyme to speed up the process, which also affects the flavor slightly. The traditional kind is also called the "cheese of the mountains," as the cows are fed mountain grass, and the cheese itself is often made in higher elevations. One of cotija's most distinctive attributes is its resistance to heat--unlike most cheeses, it doesn't melt when cooked, it only softens slightly. Therefore, it's often grated upon soups, pastas, and salads, or stuffed into tacos and enchiladas.
Typically I'd now tell you some brief information about the manufacturer, which in this case is Que Gusto. Alas, I'm unable to provide much, due to the terseness of the official company website, and lack of other online data. The company website only lists the other cheese it makes (fresco, Oaxaca, and blanco), and some recipes. It doesn't even list a location! Moving on, the distribution company, J.V.M. Sales Corp., out of New Jersey in the U.S., is similarly mysterious. It's been around since 1983, and specializes in imported cheeses, which are said to come from Italy. I assume that the cotija cheese is an exception, since producing a traditional Mexican cheese in Italy, and then bringing it back to the U.S., seems extremely convoluted and weird, instead of buying it from Mexican cheese mongers, or at least Mexican-American dairy farmers in the U.S. But who knows?
Que Gusto! cotija: Came in a 283 gram/10 ounce package. Color was whitish. Odor was similar to Parmesan. Had a hard, crumbly texture. I had it plain, and on crackers. The flavor was pleasantly sourish and tangy, with a good amount of salt. It was very good. And the nickname is correct--it did taste a lot like Parmesan, which is a compliment. I definitely recommend cotija, as it's a more than respectable cheese.
In closing, I'll briefly discuss some other traditional Mexican cheeses. Oaxaca is a version of string cheese. Fresco is a semi-soft, farmer's cheese. Chihuahua is a soft white cheese available in braids or balls, and is connected with Mexican Mennonites. Panela cheese is made from skim milk, so it's very low in fat and cholesterol. Mexico also makes a loose cheese similar in texture to cottage cheese or ricotta, called requesan. Finally, back on August 29, 2015 I discussed a Spanish cheese, Manchego. Mexico makes a variant of this, too, using cow or goat's milk instead of the traditional sheep's milk.
Saturday, November 30, 2019
Saturday, November 23, 2019
Exotic/Disgusting Foods and Beverages Forum--A Vietnamese Soft Drink
This one's a bit convoluted. It came from the So It Is African Market, which I've referenced before. Which, as the name suggests, mainly sells products from African nations. However, it also has some Caribbean wares, or products used by those with Caribbean ancestry. The drink I had is from Vietnam, but it was distributed by an American company which specializes in Hispanic, Caribbean, and Spanish cuisine. The beverage in question was the guanabana/soursop juice drink from Iberia.
The origin of guanabana (aka soursop, graviola, and several others) is unknown. It's somewhere in Central America, South America, or the Caribbean, but that's as detailed as we can get. This plant needs a hot and humid climate. Currently though, it's grown around the world in places with just such an environment. Including Southeast Asian countries like Indonesia, the Philippines, Malaysia, and of course, Vietnam. Soursop is in the same genus as cherimoya, which I covered in my November 15, 2014 post. The fruit has a fun and distinctive look to it, having a green, spiky rind, a whitish pulp and large black seeds. Aside from being eaten raw, it also is commonly used in drinks, candies, sorbets and ice creams. Consumers often claim that its texture is like a banana, its odor is like a pineapple, and its flavor is similar to an apple, and strawberry, with an additional citrus tinge. Nutritionally the fruit has decent amounts of Vitamins B1, B2 and C. Other health effects are controversial, or just conjectural at this point. Some alternative medicine practitioners claim that soursop can fight cancer. But, as usual, scientific evidence for this is lacking, thus far. On a more worrying note, there may be a link between soursop and Parkinson's Disease. It contains a neurotoxin called annonacin, which may be the cause. Paw paws and custard apples also have this substance. So maybe don't eat this fruit frequently, to be safe.
As is often the case, I wasn't able to find out anything about the Vietnamese company which produced the drink. The only info was about the distributing company, Iberia. Iberia has been around since 1930. The firm has been bought out several times by other companies, but as of 2019 it's owned by the Brooklyn Bottling Company, or the other BBC. Iberia markets essentially every main food type--meat and fish, grains, vegetables, oils, seasonings and sauces, juices, waters, milk, pasta, snacks, desserts, and cookies. And, religious candles, for some reason.
Iberia guanabana/soursop juice drink: Came in a 500 ml./16.9 ounce can. Ingredients were 35% soursop juice, water, sugar, citric acid, ascorbic acid, and soursop flavor. The color was slightly whitish. The flavor was milky, with some sourness. Overall it wasn't bad, but also not especially great. Sorry to be wishy washy, but it didn't have a very distinctive taste. Maybe if you're a big fan of the fruit you might also really enjoy this drink.
The origin of guanabana (aka soursop, graviola, and several others) is unknown. It's somewhere in Central America, South America, or the Caribbean, but that's as detailed as we can get. This plant needs a hot and humid climate. Currently though, it's grown around the world in places with just such an environment. Including Southeast Asian countries like Indonesia, the Philippines, Malaysia, and of course, Vietnam. Soursop is in the same genus as cherimoya, which I covered in my November 15, 2014 post. The fruit has a fun and distinctive look to it, having a green, spiky rind, a whitish pulp and large black seeds. Aside from being eaten raw, it also is commonly used in drinks, candies, sorbets and ice creams. Consumers often claim that its texture is like a banana, its odor is like a pineapple, and its flavor is similar to an apple, and strawberry, with an additional citrus tinge. Nutritionally the fruit has decent amounts of Vitamins B1, B2 and C. Other health effects are controversial, or just conjectural at this point. Some alternative medicine practitioners claim that soursop can fight cancer. But, as usual, scientific evidence for this is lacking, thus far. On a more worrying note, there may be a link between soursop and Parkinson's Disease. It contains a neurotoxin called annonacin, which may be the cause. Paw paws and custard apples also have this substance. So maybe don't eat this fruit frequently, to be safe.
As is often the case, I wasn't able to find out anything about the Vietnamese company which produced the drink. The only info was about the distributing company, Iberia. Iberia has been around since 1930. The firm has been bought out several times by other companies, but as of 2019 it's owned by the Brooklyn Bottling Company, or the other BBC. Iberia markets essentially every main food type--meat and fish, grains, vegetables, oils, seasonings and sauces, juices, waters, milk, pasta, snacks, desserts, and cookies. And, religious candles, for some reason.
Iberia guanabana/soursop juice drink: Came in a 500 ml./16.9 ounce can. Ingredients were 35% soursop juice, water, sugar, citric acid, ascorbic acid, and soursop flavor. The color was slightly whitish. The flavor was milky, with some sourness. Overall it wasn't bad, but also not especially great. Sorry to be wishy washy, but it didn't have a very distinctive taste. Maybe if you're a big fan of the fruit you might also really enjoy this drink.
Saturday, November 16, 2019
Exotic/Disgusting Foods and Beverages Forum--Shoofly Pie
Today I'll be discussing some cuisine of my people--shoofly pie, a traditional Pennsylvania Dutch dessert. Ha! I'm just kidding, poking fun at my facial hair choice of large porkchop sideburns, which resemble the no-mustache-but-full-beard arrangement common amongst the Amish and Mennonite men. For the record, I do have some German ancestry, but I haven't been able to identify any Pennsylvania Dutch ancestry.
First off, most people assume that Pennsylvania Dutch just means the Amish and Mennonites. Which is an exaggeration--many members of this group are more modernish Lutherans, or German Reformed. Meaning they don't dress only in black, avoid most modern technology, and necessarily be pacifists, etc. Moving on, the history of shoofly pie isn't definitive. Some claim it's a dish created by Pennsylvania German immigrants in the late 1700's or early 1800's, based on what ingredients (molasses, brown sugar, flour, lard, egg, spices) were less perishable, more available. However, food historian William Woys Weaver has his own theory, which he covers in his 2013 book, "As American as Shoofly Pie: The Foodlore and Fakelore of Pennsylvania Dutch Cuisine." Weaver says the roots of this pie were molasses cakes developed for the U.S.A.'s Centennial celebration, in 1876. By the 1880's bakers had added a pie shell to enclose the dessert, to make it easier and less messy to eat. Other possible precursors are a treacle tart (a pie made from syrup, basically) and Jenny Lind cake, a gingerbread-based cake. And then there's the name. Most people think that it's literal, that bakers working with outdoor ovens would have had to chase away flies attracted by the sweet molasses of the pie. However, Weaver's explanation is more elaborate, and to my mind, more amusing. He claims that in the 1870's and 1880's there was a popular traveling circus act which featured a boxing mule named Shoofly (perhaps after the folk song?). Shoofly was trained to stand up on his hind legs, and wear boxing gloves on his front hoofs, and he would compete against a horse. (Left unsaid is if his opponent wore boxing gloves too, or stood on its hind legs, etc.) Anyway, because this mule was so popular, various food companies were inspired to name brands after him, so there was soon a Shoofly molasses, Shoofly flour, etc. Since some of these were ingredients in the pie, folks started using the brand name as a title for the dessert. (Of course, proof in the form of advertisements, or surviving Shoofly brand food containers would help settle this debate. Maybe they're in Weaver's book.)
Shoofly pie (also rendered shoe fly pie, or shoo-fly pie) is an interesting concoction. It's basically a coffee or crumb cake atop a molasses layer, in a pie shell. There are two major types--wet bottom or dry bottom. The former has a moist, gooey molasses base, while the latter is dryer, and more cake-like. A Montgomery pie is a cousin to shoofly, only it has a buttermilk top, and lemon juice added to the bottom. Sometimes shoofly pie has a chocolate icing layer on top, too. And no matter how it's made, the traditional serving method is warmed, with whipped cream on top. Aside from being a dessert, it's also commonly eaten at breakfast, washed down with black coffee.
Normally, I'm very specific about where I got the food I'm reviewing, and when. Alas, I'm unable to do so this time. I had shoofly pie for the first time when I was only about 8 or 9 years old, and I think it was homemade. Since, I've had it a couple of times as an adult, from restaurants as I recall. I believe I sampled the wet bottom type, as I seem to remember a moister, pecan pie-ish texture to it. I do clearly remember enjoying it, which makes sense due to my sweet tooth. Crumb cake is good, as is molasses, so mixing the two together is a winning combination. I should have taken advantage the last time I was in Pennsylvania Dutch territory a couple of years ago, but unfortunately I didn't. All in all, I certainly recommend shoofly pie, especially to fans of molasses. But it probably goes without saying that it should be only an occasional treat, because of its sugar content. And I wouldn't recommend it to diabetics, for obvious reasons. If you'd like to read more about Pennsylvania Dutch cuisine, you can check out my post on mincemeat pie (January 13, 2017), or my post on Amish cup cheese (April 22, 2017). Lastly, although whose version of this food is clearly subjective, many credit the Dutch Haven bakery in Soudersburg, Pennsylvania (near the town of Lancaster), as making the best commercial shoofly pie.
First off, most people assume that Pennsylvania Dutch just means the Amish and Mennonites. Which is an exaggeration--many members of this group are more modernish Lutherans, or German Reformed. Meaning they don't dress only in black, avoid most modern technology, and necessarily be pacifists, etc. Moving on, the history of shoofly pie isn't definitive. Some claim it's a dish created by Pennsylvania German immigrants in the late 1700's or early 1800's, based on what ingredients (molasses, brown sugar, flour, lard, egg, spices) were less perishable, more available. However, food historian William Woys Weaver has his own theory, which he covers in his 2013 book, "As American as Shoofly Pie: The Foodlore and Fakelore of Pennsylvania Dutch Cuisine." Weaver says the roots of this pie were molasses cakes developed for the U.S.A.'s Centennial celebration, in 1876. By the 1880's bakers had added a pie shell to enclose the dessert, to make it easier and less messy to eat. Other possible precursors are a treacle tart (a pie made from syrup, basically) and Jenny Lind cake, a gingerbread-based cake. And then there's the name. Most people think that it's literal, that bakers working with outdoor ovens would have had to chase away flies attracted by the sweet molasses of the pie. However, Weaver's explanation is more elaborate, and to my mind, more amusing. He claims that in the 1870's and 1880's there was a popular traveling circus act which featured a boxing mule named Shoofly (perhaps after the folk song?). Shoofly was trained to stand up on his hind legs, and wear boxing gloves on his front hoofs, and he would compete against a horse. (Left unsaid is if his opponent wore boxing gloves too, or stood on its hind legs, etc.) Anyway, because this mule was so popular, various food companies were inspired to name brands after him, so there was soon a Shoofly molasses, Shoofly flour, etc. Since some of these were ingredients in the pie, folks started using the brand name as a title for the dessert. (Of course, proof in the form of advertisements, or surviving Shoofly brand food containers would help settle this debate. Maybe they're in Weaver's book.)
Shoofly pie (also rendered shoe fly pie, or shoo-fly pie) is an interesting concoction. It's basically a coffee or crumb cake atop a molasses layer, in a pie shell. There are two major types--wet bottom or dry bottom. The former has a moist, gooey molasses base, while the latter is dryer, and more cake-like. A Montgomery pie is a cousin to shoofly, only it has a buttermilk top, and lemon juice added to the bottom. Sometimes shoofly pie has a chocolate icing layer on top, too. And no matter how it's made, the traditional serving method is warmed, with whipped cream on top. Aside from being a dessert, it's also commonly eaten at breakfast, washed down with black coffee.
Normally, I'm very specific about where I got the food I'm reviewing, and when. Alas, I'm unable to do so this time. I had shoofly pie for the first time when I was only about 8 or 9 years old, and I think it was homemade. Since, I've had it a couple of times as an adult, from restaurants as I recall. I believe I sampled the wet bottom type, as I seem to remember a moister, pecan pie-ish texture to it. I do clearly remember enjoying it, which makes sense due to my sweet tooth. Crumb cake is good, as is molasses, so mixing the two together is a winning combination. I should have taken advantage the last time I was in Pennsylvania Dutch territory a couple of years ago, but unfortunately I didn't. All in all, I certainly recommend shoofly pie, especially to fans of molasses. But it probably goes without saying that it should be only an occasional treat, because of its sugar content. And I wouldn't recommend it to diabetics, for obvious reasons. If you'd like to read more about Pennsylvania Dutch cuisine, you can check out my post on mincemeat pie (January 13, 2017), or my post on Amish cup cheese (April 22, 2017). Lastly, although whose version of this food is clearly subjective, many credit the Dutch Haven bakery in Soudersburg, Pennsylvania (near the town of Lancaster), as making the best commercial shoofly pie.
Saturday, November 9, 2019
Exotic/Disgusting Foods and Beverages Forum--Tuna from Ghana
This is actually my third blog post about a product from Ghana. (The others were about a Ghanaian candy on April 13, 2016, and a Ghanaian soft drink on October 13, 2018.) It's another So It Is African Market find. And while the company which owns and distributes this tuna is American, the fish itself is a product of that African nation.
The company which produced this canned tuna was Pioneer Food Cannery, Ltd., which to add to the cosmopolitan nature appears to be Thai. However, I wasn't able to find out much of anything about this firm online. So, therefore, I'll focus on what I could learn, which was about the overall parent company, StarKist. StarKist was created in San Pedro, California, in 1917 by a Croatian immigrant named Martin J. Bogdanovich and some unnamed partners. Originally the company's name was the French Sardine Company. By 1942 the company marketed under the StarKist name, though, and by 1953 the company title formally switched to StarKist. StarKist has been bought out by other businesses several times over the years. Heinz acquired them in 1963, and then Del Monte did so in 2002. And, finally, in either 2006 or 2008 (sources differ), Dongwon Industries of Korea became the owner.
I'm sad to report that StarKist has some skeletons in the closet. A class action lawsuit was filed in 2015 claiming that the company had deliberately under filled 5 ounce cans of tuna. By September of 2019 a settlement was reached, and consumers received coupons or small payouts. More dramatically, StarKist, along with its giant competitors Chicken of the Sea and Bumble Bee, were guilty of felony price fixing. Chicken of the Sea cooperated early with prosecutors, so they got off with no fine. But Bumble Bee had to pay a fine of $25,000,000, and StarKist $100,000,000. Reportedly Bumble Bee's fine was lower because it was thought that the company would have gone bankrupt if it was forced to pay the larger fine.
Anyway, here's what I thought about the food itself:
1) StarKist tuna flakes, in sunflower oil: Came in a 170 gram can. Eaten plain it tasted like regular canned tuna. Otherwise I had it mixed with mayo as a sandwich on 10 grain bread. And it tasted like regular tuna once again, only oilier. (I usually have tuna packed in water.) I didn't detect a difference in the "flakes" rather than the usual shredded chunks of tuna. So overall I thought StarKist tuna flakes were okay, and made for a solid tuna sandwich. I prefer the tuna packed in water, but this was alright. And to be fair I've never noticed much of a difference in canned tuna brands--they all pretty much taste the same. Fresh is better, but canned is acceptable.
Finally, when the average person hears "StarKist," they probably think of the company's corporate mascot--a cartoon anthropomorphic tuna fish named Charlie. Charlie was created by Tom Rogers of the Leo Burnett ad agency back in 1961. (I read that "Vampira" portrayer Maila Nurmi claimed that actor James Dean drew a prototype of Charlie on a napkin at a coffee shop in Hollywood before his official birth, but this appears to be a weird myth.) Burnett's agency also produced the Pillsbury Doughboy character, the lonely Maytag repairman, and the Jolly Green Giant and Sprout mascots. Anyway, Charlie the Tuna was voiced by a television and Broadway actor Herschel Bernardi (until his death in 1986), and the signature tagline of the advertisement was a narrator telling the character "Sorry Charlie." Going further into this character's minutia, I learned that the bachelor Charlie actually had a love interest for a short time in 1991, with the "Premia" character, who was used to promote StarKist's Chunk Light Tuna brand. Also, the tiny town of Charleston, Oregon has had a Charlie the Tuna statue since 1968. Unfortunately some rowdy teens stole and burnt the statue in 2008, but the townspeople pooled their resources and a replacement statue was quickly erected.
The company which produced this canned tuna was Pioneer Food Cannery, Ltd., which to add to the cosmopolitan nature appears to be Thai. However, I wasn't able to find out much of anything about this firm online. So, therefore, I'll focus on what I could learn, which was about the overall parent company, StarKist. StarKist was created in San Pedro, California, in 1917 by a Croatian immigrant named Martin J. Bogdanovich and some unnamed partners. Originally the company's name was the French Sardine Company. By 1942 the company marketed under the StarKist name, though, and by 1953 the company title formally switched to StarKist. StarKist has been bought out by other businesses several times over the years. Heinz acquired them in 1963, and then Del Monte did so in 2002. And, finally, in either 2006 or 2008 (sources differ), Dongwon Industries of Korea became the owner.
I'm sad to report that StarKist has some skeletons in the closet. A class action lawsuit was filed in 2015 claiming that the company had deliberately under filled 5 ounce cans of tuna. By September of 2019 a settlement was reached, and consumers received coupons or small payouts. More dramatically, StarKist, along with its giant competitors Chicken of the Sea and Bumble Bee, were guilty of felony price fixing. Chicken of the Sea cooperated early with prosecutors, so they got off with no fine. But Bumble Bee had to pay a fine of $25,000,000, and StarKist $100,000,000. Reportedly Bumble Bee's fine was lower because it was thought that the company would have gone bankrupt if it was forced to pay the larger fine.
Anyway, here's what I thought about the food itself:
1) StarKist tuna flakes, in sunflower oil: Came in a 170 gram can. Eaten plain it tasted like regular canned tuna. Otherwise I had it mixed with mayo as a sandwich on 10 grain bread. And it tasted like regular tuna once again, only oilier. (I usually have tuna packed in water.) I didn't detect a difference in the "flakes" rather than the usual shredded chunks of tuna. So overall I thought StarKist tuna flakes were okay, and made for a solid tuna sandwich. I prefer the tuna packed in water, but this was alright. And to be fair I've never noticed much of a difference in canned tuna brands--they all pretty much taste the same. Fresh is better, but canned is acceptable.
Finally, when the average person hears "StarKist," they probably think of the company's corporate mascot--a cartoon anthropomorphic tuna fish named Charlie. Charlie was created by Tom Rogers of the Leo Burnett ad agency back in 1961. (I read that "Vampira" portrayer Maila Nurmi claimed that actor James Dean drew a prototype of Charlie on a napkin at a coffee shop in Hollywood before his official birth, but this appears to be a weird myth.) Burnett's agency also produced the Pillsbury Doughboy character, the lonely Maytag repairman, and the Jolly Green Giant and Sprout mascots. Anyway, Charlie the Tuna was voiced by a television and Broadway actor Herschel Bernardi (until his death in 1986), and the signature tagline of the advertisement was a narrator telling the character "Sorry Charlie." Going further into this character's minutia, I learned that the bachelor Charlie actually had a love interest for a short time in 1991, with the "Premia" character, who was used to promote StarKist's Chunk Light Tuna brand. Also, the tiny town of Charleston, Oregon has had a Charlie the Tuna statue since 1968. Unfortunately some rowdy teens stole and burnt the statue in 2008, but the townspeople pooled their resources and a replacement statue was quickly erected.
Saturday, November 2, 2019
Exotic/Disgusting Foods and Beverages Forum--Belgian Biscuits
Lately I've been doing a lot of posts about my initial experiences with various countries' edibles and drinkables. This isn't the case today. I've done at least one about Belgium's wares (see my February 24, 2018 post, about Belgian beverages), and this is another. Also, unlike many of my recent posts, the products discussed here weren't bought at an exotic grocery--these were found at my local Shop Rite supermarket. Anyway, the three biscuit types were all from the Lotus company, specifically the Biscoff, Dinosaurus, and Biscoff To Go cookies.
The Lotus company dates back to 1932. It was started by the Boone brothers--Jan, Emiel, and Henri. Jan seems to have been the chef/cookie inventor, so evidently Emiel and Henri handled the bookkeeping, or marketing, or something. Apparently their initial inspiration was to make biscuits for breakfast, and speculoos for St. Nicholas Day celebrations (on December 5th). Speculoos biscuits are a traditional type of special shortcrust cookies, which are thin, crunchy, and usually shaped like various forms, like an elephant, a farmhouse, or a ship. These biscuits are made in Belgium, The Netherlands, Germany, Austria, and Luxembourg. However, the brothers' most popular item was their Biscoff biscuits, noted for their caramelized, crunchy, and unique flavor, often dunked in coffee. In fact, the name of this biscuit is a combo of these--the "Bis" is from "biscuit," and the "coff" from "coffee." Other Lotus products include gingerbread biscuits, Breton French butter cookies, French shortbread biscuits, spreadable cookie butter, infant/toddler treats, and cookie-flavored ice cream. The firm boasts about 1600 employees, and is sold in about 50 countries worldwide, including the U.S., much of Europe, Chile, China, and Korea. In the 1950's Lotus started individually wrapping Biscoff cookies, which was quite popular with consumers, but presumably disliked by trash collectors and environmentalists. The website claims that 6,000,000,000 Biscoff biscuits are made annually, and enjoyed on all 7 continents. So unless the Lotus company is exaggerating, scientists in Antarctica also chow down on them, huddled in their bunkers, trying to avoid The Thing's awful tentacles.
1) Lotus Biscoff biscuits: These are roughly rectangular cookies, about 7 cm. by 3 cm. (about 2.75 inches by 1.25 inches), brownish in color, with scalloped edges. "Lotus" is embossed on each one. These were just okay. Crunchy. Not that sweet.
2) Lotus Dinosaurus cookies: These were slightly bigger--about 3 inches by 2.25 inches (about 7 cm. by 5 cm.) chocolate on one side, light yellowish brown cookie on the other, shaped like a stegosaurus dinosaur, obviously. Again, kind of disappointing, as they were alright, but not great. Even with the milk chocolate coating on half of it.
3) Lotus Biscoffs to go: This kind consisted of 7 cm long (about 3 inches) yellow breadstick-like rods which you dip into a small tub of brown cookie butter. The butter itself looks like peanut butter. The rods are very plain by themselves. However, they're pretty decent when dipped. Better than the other two biscuit kinds.
So, in summation, I wasn't dazzled by the Lotus biscuits/cookies. As has happened before, I tend to find European cookies to be less sweet than the kinds I really enjoy. I'm too familiar with overly sugary American style cookies, I suppose. To be fair, since I despise coffee, both as a beverage and a flavor, I didn't dip the Biscoffs in that liquid, since that would have automatically made me hate the results. I would try some of the Lotus ice cream, though. Finally, I did kind of like the Biscoff commercial I saw on the website. It features of bunch of coffee mugs which jump off a shelf and then climb a counter to get at a guy's Biscoffs. They do so in a "World War Z" pyramid-style fashion. It was sort of creepy when I (over) thought about it, in a fun sort of way.
The Lotus company dates back to 1932. It was started by the Boone brothers--Jan, Emiel, and Henri. Jan seems to have been the chef/cookie inventor, so evidently Emiel and Henri handled the bookkeeping, or marketing, or something. Apparently their initial inspiration was to make biscuits for breakfast, and speculoos for St. Nicholas Day celebrations (on December 5th). Speculoos biscuits are a traditional type of special shortcrust cookies, which are thin, crunchy, and usually shaped like various forms, like an elephant, a farmhouse, or a ship. These biscuits are made in Belgium, The Netherlands, Germany, Austria, and Luxembourg. However, the brothers' most popular item was their Biscoff biscuits, noted for their caramelized, crunchy, and unique flavor, often dunked in coffee. In fact, the name of this biscuit is a combo of these--the "Bis" is from "biscuit," and the "coff" from "coffee." Other Lotus products include gingerbread biscuits, Breton French butter cookies, French shortbread biscuits, spreadable cookie butter, infant/toddler treats, and cookie-flavored ice cream. The firm boasts about 1600 employees, and is sold in about 50 countries worldwide, including the U.S., much of Europe, Chile, China, and Korea. In the 1950's Lotus started individually wrapping Biscoff cookies, which was quite popular with consumers, but presumably disliked by trash collectors and environmentalists. The website claims that 6,000,000,000 Biscoff biscuits are made annually, and enjoyed on all 7 continents. So unless the Lotus company is exaggerating, scientists in Antarctica also chow down on them, huddled in their bunkers, trying to avoid The Thing's awful tentacles.
1) Lotus Biscoff biscuits: These are roughly rectangular cookies, about 7 cm. by 3 cm. (about 2.75 inches by 1.25 inches), brownish in color, with scalloped edges. "Lotus" is embossed on each one. These were just okay. Crunchy. Not that sweet.
2) Lotus Dinosaurus cookies: These were slightly bigger--about 3 inches by 2.25 inches (about 7 cm. by 5 cm.) chocolate on one side, light yellowish brown cookie on the other, shaped like a stegosaurus dinosaur, obviously. Again, kind of disappointing, as they were alright, but not great. Even with the milk chocolate coating on half of it.
3) Lotus Biscoffs to go: This kind consisted of 7 cm long (about 3 inches) yellow breadstick-like rods which you dip into a small tub of brown cookie butter. The butter itself looks like peanut butter. The rods are very plain by themselves. However, they're pretty decent when dipped. Better than the other two biscuit kinds.
So, in summation, I wasn't dazzled by the Lotus biscuits/cookies. As has happened before, I tend to find European cookies to be less sweet than the kinds I really enjoy. I'm too familiar with overly sugary American style cookies, I suppose. To be fair, since I despise coffee, both as a beverage and a flavor, I didn't dip the Biscoffs in that liquid, since that would have automatically made me hate the results. I would try some of the Lotus ice cream, though. Finally, I did kind of like the Biscoff commercial I saw on the website. It features of bunch of coffee mugs which jump off a shelf and then climb a counter to get at a guy's Biscoffs. They do so in a "World War Z" pyramid-style fashion. It was sort of creepy when I (over) thought about it, in a fun sort of way.
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