Things I've Eaten

So, Halloween is coming up and we wanted to do a test run of some caramel apple kits to see how easy they are to use and whether you can stick things to the caramel.

We wanted to avoid using the type of caramel that you have to melt in a cup or mix up, so we settled on the Caramel Apple Wrap kit from Concord. You can just nuke the things and get results in under 30 seconds. For a person on the go like me, that’s exactly what I wanted to hear.

I’ll go on the record right now as never having been a fan of caramel apples. Or candied apples for that matter. I have no beef against caramel or candy — I’ve been known to roll a Rollo to my pal — but I don’t like the gooey apple form factor. However, in the interest of helping others, I decided to take one for the team and test the wraps.

My wife got Granny Smith apples for her test. I thought I had gotten Concord apples, so I was psyched since Concord made the wrap kit — I already had a leg up. Then I realized I’d never actually heard of Concord apples and it turns out that they don’t actually exist because what I had bought were, in fact, Cortland apples and I had probably been thinking of Concord grapes. Things were already off to a bad start.

The wraps are pretty much just a big circle of caramel between two pieces of wax paper. It looks sort of like caramel Bologna, which I have to say would be a lot more enjoyable to eat in a sandwich than real Bologna.

I peeled my wrap off the paper and slapped it on my Concord Cortland apple. I proudly showed it to my wife, who just laughed at my handiwork.

I was like, “WTF is wrong with my apple?”

I figured that the caramel would magically drape itself over the apple when you nuke it. Well, apparently there were instructions that explain you have to stretch and manipulate the caramel slice to completely encase your apple.

What a gyp. A person on the go like me doesn’t have time to read. These things should come with an instructional video, or at least an audio book. Strike One, Concord Caramel Apple Wrap.

So, I remove and reapply my wrap, stretching and eventually deforming it. Then it’s time for the stick. STRIKE TWO!

I was really looking forward to a popsicle stick that had one sharpened end that you could jab into the apple’s crown with a satisfying dramatic flourish. Instead, you get a regular round-on-both-ends sticks.

Now I know, there’s probably some pointy caramel apple stick tragedy that haunts the carnival and holiday food industry. I can easily imagine some one-eyed kid or someone who impaled his voice box making the junior high school talk circuit to warn kids about the dangers of novelty fruit snacks and horseplay.

I sympathize, but really, why does someone always have to ruin it for those of us that know how to handle potentially deadly things that are given to children? I’m still bitter about all the Battlestar Galactica and Micronaut toys that had their projectile shooting action disabled. And sorry if it makes me a monster, but you totally know Boba Fett’s missile was originally supposed to shoot out of his backpack.

Anyway, the rounded stick went in a lot easier than I figured and it was time to nuke. The recommended time was 15-25 seconds at medium-high power. I obviously wanted to go for the max, but my wife wanted a happy medium and did 20 seconds. Man, did she screw me.

After getting the apple out, it was time to see how well mini M&Ms would stick, as that’s actually what the whole point of this test was about. The results follow:

As you can see, my apple blows. I went for the roll method of applying the M&Ms. The short nuking time, combined with my substandard wrapping skills, created a fruit novelty that was short on sticky surface area — and it shows.

My wife nuked her apple for the full 25 seconds and went for the straight plunge method of applying mini M&Ms. As you can see her results were vastly better:

Now came the real test — time to eat. I had problems right from the get-go. Fortunately, I was eating near the sink as there was pretty much a constant rain of mini M&Ms falling off my apple. When all was finished, I’d lost 24 mini M&Ms. Only one fell off my wife’s apple.

Taste-wise, I have to say the apples were pretty good. I pushed through my disdain for sticky fruit snacks and found that the flavor was pretty good and the caramel wasn’t too overwhelming.

We decided to sample each other’s results. In the interest of health safety, my wife cut a slice from her apple… and the knife broke! STRIKE THREE!!!!

Shrapnel aside, I found the tartness of the Granny Smith apple created a nice contrast with the sweetness of the caramel and created an altogether richer flavor experience. But Granny Smith apples tend to make me feel sick after I eat a decent amount, so I’d have to pass.

As it was, I felt kind of nauseous after eating most of the M&M-coated portions of my apple. I don’t think that it was the fault of the Concord Caramel Apple Wrap product, but more likely my body reacting to the foreignness of having a fruit product in it.

Ultimately, I’ll give a positive rank to Concord Caramel Apple Wrap, although they are not for me. And adding M&Ms to the mix is way too freaking much.

Mountain Dew Pitch Black taught us that you’ve got to push it to pop it, rock it to lock it, break it to make it. The question is, can Mountain Dew Pitch Black 2 teach us the beat on the street that’s hopping and popping?

In late August 2004, our good friends at Pepsi-Cola North America released Mountain Dew Pitch Black upon the world to seemingly little fanfare. Like the other Mountain Dew breakout brands, it seemed mostly limited to vending machines and gas stations until enough buzz was built to warrant a supermarket presence.

Mountain Dew Pitch Black was a grape soda like no other. It was ultra sweet, had a rich grape flavor that seemed more authentic than real grapes, non-wussy carbonation, and it was so purple it was pretty much black. Without question, Mountain Dew Pitch Black was also the gothiest Pepsi soft drink ever created. You could wear black on the outside because your insides literally were black after drinking some.

Fittingly, it was yanked from the shelves after Halloween when it was revealed to people who don’t have time to read press releases or disclaimers on soda bottles that it was a “limited edition.” Hey, reading is hard.

In any case, their little marketing ploy made me angry. So my heart leapt for joy when I saw a 2-litre bottle of Mountain Dew Pitch Black in the grocery store last week. Or I might just have a heart murmur. But all that really matters is that I didn’t care if it had been sitting there for a year — I had to posses it.

Then I saw the tagline “PART II: BACK WITH A SOUR BITE” emblazoned on the label in a drippy toxic waste font and I was like, “WTF?”

I was intrigued, but skeptical. This wasn’t just a re-issue, it was a sequel. And I’ve been burned by sequels in the past. Stayin’ Alive, I’m looking at you. Bring It On 2, you should be ashamed. Dirty Dancing: Havana Nights — I’m not even talking to you.

Despite my trepidation, I decided to see if I could recapture the glory of the original Mountain Dew Pitch Black. The results are mixed.

They aren’t kidding when they say it’s got a sour bite. It goes down pretty smooth but has that lockjaw-inducing aftertaste you normally might associate with grape sweet tarts. While not entirely unpleasant, the flavor is significantly different from the grape flavor I fell in love with.

Fortunately, Mountain Dew Pitch Black was never just about the flavor. Drinking it was a complete sensory experience — the color, the prickly carbonation, the pleasant grape scent that’s gently released as the head on the soda subsides. And here’s where the sequel partially redeems itself.

The carbonation seems to have been decreased a bit, but I have no way to prove this. I just can’t shake the feeling that it has been re-engineered to be more chuggable so that consumers can get back to snowboarding out of helicopters quicker.

The saving grace is the visual presence. From bottle to consumption, the soda appears to magically change color in front of your eyes. In the bottle, there’s none more black. When you pour it into a glass, a beautifully rich blue head caps the drink before delicately dissipating into a deep purple as the carbonation dissipates. The lab tech that figured out the dye balance and behaviors is to be commended – it is simply breathtaking.

Ultimately, Mountain Dew Pitch Black 2 delivers as most sequels do – it’s an overamped imitation of what worked the first time. Making it more sour is similar to the rationale of “we blew up 20 things in the first movie, this time we need to blow up 30 things!” And it plays to the fan desperate to relive the joy of the original experience. Some Pitch Black is better than no Pitch Black, even if it’s gratuitously extreme, but that doesn’t necessarily make it good (although that’s what I’m rating it as Meh seemed to harsh).

What I find really scary: How bad will they screw things up with Pitch Back III?