Glam Slam, Pt. 2

Right now I'm eating Starburst "Fruit & Creme" fruit chews. They're new.

I've noticed that snack makers have jumped on the practice of adding some flavor or texture to their original snack. These Starburst are apparently meant to taste like one of the original Starburst flavors (originally they are cherry, orange, lemon and strawberry), but with an added flavor of "creme." I assume they mean "cream" but, because of the success of those giant Starbucks coffee milkshakes called "creme-something," StarBURST wanted to hook us up with a little poorly thought-out pretension.

Here's the rundown:

The first one I ate was called Peaches & Creme. I'm going to criticize this one. And I'm going to embarrass myself, also. It tastes like one of those little Strawberry Shortcake toys little girls used to play with when I was a child. "But Snacksnob, how do YOU know what a little Strawberry Shortcake doll TASTES like?" Um. . . . er. . . . okay, here's the thing: I always wanted to eat those little dolls. Remember, I WAS VERY YOUNG. I had never heard of oral sex, much less Sigmund Freud. I just remember I had cousins who had those little dolls (with names like Blueberry Muffin, Cinnamon Bun, and Vanilla Muffdive) and I loved to smell them and I was so distraught that they couldn't actually be ingested. It seemed SO UNFAIR.

Well, that's what the Peaches & Creme Starburst tastes like. And it's really upsetting.

The second Starburst was Strawberry & Creme. It tasted pretty good at first, but once going soft in my mouth, I actually thought I was tasting milk. That's a pretty disgusting taste when you think you're just eating strawberry candy. I am not a fan.

Orange & Creme was great. Really good. You know how sometimes you go to a diner or an ice-cream shop and in the menu they have some drink called an "Orange Freeze" or "Orange Dream" or something? Usually, it's just orange sherbet and 7-Up blended like a milkshake. A great idea, right? And it tastes great at first. It doesn't become a revolting nightmare of a concoction until you're about halfway through and it's gotten a little lukewarm and flat. You realize that really, you're drinking sherbet and 7-up and that's pretty decrepid. Luckily, the Orange & Creme Starburst gives the mouth all of the up-front excitement and flavor of the "Orange Freeze" without any of that mid-meal remorse.

There is another flavor of Starburst "Fruit Creme" called Mixed Berries & Creme. I opened the little paper wrapper and sniffed it, so suspicious was I. Fuck that shit; I'm not putting that in my mouth. I welcome readers to try it out and post your comments.

In my next post, I'll talk about candy bars proper. Promise.

Glam Slam, Pt. 1

Throw any two random flavors together. See what it tastes like. Sell it.

This was the flavor-making policy of Snapple back in the early-to-mid 1990s. Strawberry-kiwi-apple juice. Watermelon-lime tea. Green tea with mushrooms and dingleberries. It was a difficult time to be a snacksnob. Of course, this trend continues today, only with beloved soft drinks like Coca-Cola. The main offenders are Vanilla Coke and Lime Coke. Now that Vanilla Coke is seeing the end of its days, Coca-Cola has introduced a new Black Cherry Vanilla variety, something Dr. Pepper did last year. I'm so appalled by all of this grandstanding that I haven't even tried this new abomination. Maybe it's delicious? I'll be sure and let y'all know. . . . in the meantime, check out the amazing folks at Salute to Soda for more info about any and all of your soft-drink questions.

Here's my point. I have to seriously curtail my soft drink intake. I'm just emerging from a 2-week bout of flu, during which I only drank one Coca-Cola (my dearest friends understand the significance of this ). I've thought long and hard, looked deep into my soul, considered my lifestyle and the indulgences I still enjoy, and have concluded that a changes have to be made vis-a-vis my lifelong addiction to sweet, adorable, precious Coca-Cola. I know I may regret this decision in a few weeks when I'm sitting down to pizza or enjoying a bag of the new Black Pepperjack Dorito's. Perhaps, for the first time in a very long time, I'll get back in touch with my Texan roots and investigate the refreshment of iced tea. Or maybe I'll just drink liquid cocaine. Something. Stay tuned, obviously.

By the way, Lebron's Lightening Lemonade Bubblicious gum tastes like lemons soaked in pine cone with a hint of Vietnamese temple incense. I was really disappointed because I wanted it to be tangy and mouth-watering. Instead, I almost threw up my dinner.