Procrastination Sunday: Easter

Last Sunday

Favre retired Satan, what gives?
Getting back to the four pounds of Betsy Ann Easter chocolate, here's what we thought:
Keep sending us free chocolate.
The favs included the Amaretto Truffle Egg, which Vincenzo seemed to swallow whole after wandering in from doing whatever it is teenagers do at that time of night. (Channeling Andy Rooney again. What, he's not dead?) Vince described it as "very smooth." At least I think that's what he said. It sounded more like "Vrrsmove." Maybe he said, "Vixen, move." She was glued to the spot where a micro crumb of candy dropped.
Phil 3 loved the Crunchy Peanut Butter Truffle Egg, giving it an "Oh Yeah. Uh huhm." I was on something like my 13th egg at that point and passed, but found the smooth Peanut Butter Egg too light, and too, uh, smooth.
Bug and Austin here, loved the Milk Chocolate Marshmallow Egg, which recieved a 5 out of 5 from Bug and a 4 from Austin. Bug also gave the Sitting Bunny the highest rating.

Phil gave the Jamaican Rum Truffle a cautionary "Wow. It's just like taking a sip of rum."
He thought the Pecan Meltaway Egg was a bit sweet, wuss, but we both ranked it quite high. It was one of my favorite eggs.
The Cookies & Cream which got me a "Where are you putting it?" because I was making everybody sick with my capacity for sugar consumption, was a 4 out of 5. I found the Fudge Nut as tempting as the Pecan Meltaway. The Fudge Nut rivaled a fresh slab of Dells fudge, but Neither Phil nor Bug agreed. What do they know.
I was the only one still eating candy when I raved about the Double Milk Chocolate Truffle. Before I make all of you ill—too late?—I must mention the Milk Chocolate Butter Cream, which I gave a 4.75. Phil gave it a 1.5 out of 5. Double wuss.
Had enough? No? The Betsy Ann American Chocolates Easter Collection will be available through April 30.

Candy Key

What is that thing?
Fair question, it's the original birthday box of nostalgic candy my sister, the one who didn't want candy in her house last Christmas, HA, sent me for my ~muffled~ eth birthday.
It's also a candy key to the Find The Candy Contest.
Let's take a closer look, shall we.
Going from my version of from top to bottom:
•Mallo Cups
•Jujubes
•Chuckles
•Butterscotch Button
•Planter's Peanut Bar
•Indian Brand Pumpkin Seeds
•Teaberry Gum
•Cinnamon Hot Dog! two pack
•Black Jack Taffy
•Snaps
•Butter Rum Life Savers
•Chick-o-Sticks
•Whoppers
•Bubble Gum Cigar
•Zero
•Bob's Sweet Stripes
•Candy Necklace
•Sixlets
•Strawberry BB Bat
•Brach's Jelly Nougat
•Sen Sen
•Honeycombed Peanuts
•Fizzies
•Strawberry Kits
•Nik-L-Nips
•Real Candy Cigs (none of those bogus candy sticks)
•Charms Pop
•Boston Baked Beans
•Lemonheads
•Black Licorice Smith Brothers Cough Drops
•Zagnut
•Now & Laters
•Sugar Daddy
•Candy Buttons
And that's just what's peaking out of the top layer.
Note: The Walnettos were buried.

Wordless Wednesday

"I don't see the attraction." (Roscoe, as usual, is a little off target.)

Happy Easter

From the Wisconsin Candy Dish.

The final vote was cast by one of our taste testers and judges, Vincenzo here, and...
Chrissy is the undisputed winner of the Find The Candy Contest.
All candies, with Vince's help, will be named this week. Chrissy will be receiving a lovely package of goodies in the very near future.
Shoot me an email, C.

PWW: LOST

(Practically) Wordless Wednesday
As in I lost it when I got this four pound box of chocolates from Betsy Ann's and took a bite out of...let's just say many of them.
It was only the light of day which stopped me. Temporarily.
Yeah, the diet's going well.

In The Dish: Betsy Ann's Eggs

The Betsy Ann post is on the table—not a particularly safe place for a box of gourmet chocolates—and coming to a blog near you. Bug here pretended to play it cool, but was caught bonding with the four pounds of chocolate. Which he then helped devour.

It's just you and me now, bunny.

I'm getting that "No chocolate for you" Soup Nazi vibe again.

Not cool dude. Not. Cool. Got a mint?

PWW: Find The Candy Contest

(Practically) Wordless Wednesday
Name at least 30 nostalgic goodies (I count 33) by piecing together the box of nostalgic candy from this photo and the three photos below, and WIN...something. Candy I'd venture.

Movie Candy

This post was prompted by the amazing Mr. Ripley, I mean the amazing *Lisa, which gives me a chance to let all the chocolate I gluttonized over the weekend settle. Right on my arse. Betsy Ann American Chocolates sent me a case, and I mean A. Case. of gourmet chocolate Easter eggs last week, and although I did my best to resist, I shredded through the top two layers like a rabid dog before it made it to the Test Site. The candy I mean, not the dog. There is no dog. Well not a rabid one (that I know of). Thankfully, there were volunteers waiting.
The Challenge: Memorable Lines From FiveDifferent Movies and to Whom Might You Utter Those Lines if Your Mind Weren't Like a Very Thin Piece of Chocolate Covered Swiss Cheese
All mine involve candy.
1) Strangers With Candy (2005)
Jerri Blank introducing herself to her new high school classmates (Amy Sedaris): Hello, I'm Jerri Blank and - and I'm an alcoholic. I'm also addicted to amphetamines as well as main line narcotics. Some people say I have a sex addiction, but I think all those years of prostitution was just a means to feed my ravenous hunger for heroin. It's kinda like the chicken or the nugget. The point is, I'm addicted to gambling. Thank you.
When might I use that? Anywhere I could. Job interviews, various court room appearances, family picnics (where it would be particularly poignant).

2) The Devil's Rejects ~shudder~ (2005)
Candy (Elizabeth Daily): What you lookin' at?
Otis B. Driftwood (Bill Moseley): I'm lookin' at you, mama.
Candy: Yeah, you see something you like?
Otis B. Driftwood: Maybe. I set my standards pretty low, so I'm never disappointed.
Who'd I say that to? Saving it for bar time.
3) Brain Candy (1996)
White Trash Woman (Mark McKinney): How can you sleep with my best friend, and then tell me about it?
White Trash Man (Bruce McCulloch): Sure I told you about it, baby, but don't shoot the messenger!
Who to: There is many a jerk I'd like to reverse roles on.

4) Planes, Trains, And Automobiles (1987)
Del (John Candy): You play with your balls a lot.
Neal (Steve Martin): I do NOT play with my balls.
Del: Larry Bird doesn't do as much ball-handling in one night as you do in an hour!
Neal: Are you trying to start a fight?
Del: No. I'm simply stating a fact. That's all. You fidget with your nuts a lot.
Neal: You know what'd make me happy?
Del: Another couple of balls, and an extra set of fingers?
Think I'll use it during March Madness and change Larry Bird to LeBron James or Josh Shipp.
Candy (Based on Voltaire's Candide) (1968)
5) Grindl (Brando): They say in my country that the centipede has a thousand legs but he cannot tap dance.
Candy Christian (Ewa Aulin): I don't quite see the connection.
Grindl: Well, it loses a little something in translation.
You could slip that little gem in the conversation just about anywhere.

FIN

Or Is It?

*Can't forget I.T. Guy for his Technicolor idea (brought to you in breathtaking CinemaScope).
No candy was harmed in the writing of this post.

Tears In Title Town

(Practically) Wordless Wednesday
Unless you live under a very large rock in a very deep cave, or on a planet in a galaxy far, far away, you've heard the news that will be rocking Cheeseheads across the land for generations to come:
Mighty Brett has hung up his cleats. I scoured the city for reactions, and because words can simply not convey the pall which has spread o'er the land, here's my first ever (Practically) Wordless Wednesday.

Gabriel Ramon, Packer Fan
"He may have had another season in him, but more importantly, can you fill this up with wings? And some more of that sauce."

Jebediah Smails, Potter Fan
"I think Gryffindor will take the cup this year."

Miss Vickers, Steelers Fan
"You're barking up the wrong end zone. And I'm not into Vicodin."

Ms. Nanci Nitro, Cousin and FIB
"I think every Easter should start with a round of Bloody Mary's. Favre? He won't have the Bears to push around anymore. I mean, wait, did I miss St. Pat's?"

AirHeads Xtremes Sweetly Sour Rolls

There's a lot to be said for movie candy. For one thing, there are a world of sweet and sour candies to choose from, such as Strawberry AirHeads Xtremes Sweetly Sour Rolls. I'm not an AirHeads fan, but you could do worse for a video store point of purchase food.

They have an odd taste, initially, as I find AirHeads do, but that's easily ignored by unrolling the whole thing into your yap. Trying to stop it unraveling is like trying to close a revolving door, so unroll away, son.
The faux fruit rolls are sprinkled with a kind of Pixy Stix dust, as sweet sour candies are. They don't go well with nacho cheese flavored chips—who would have guessed. They did suite The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford quite nicely, slowly unrolling to the thick center along with the story.
They're not on the Gummi Food Pyramid because of that weird AirHeads aftertaste, but they are worth sneaking into the theater, or having on hand for a post Oscar DVD binge. But be warned, if you eat them too quickly, you can choke on the sweet sour dust and end up sounding like Casey Affleck.
Also Xtreme, people giving up all hope of living in a world without snow, and putting skis on their bikes, like this guy at Elver Park.

I've got more sledding photos on flickr.

Haribo Sour S'ghetti

Gummi candy and sour licorice, my true loves. They'll never leave you for someone younger with better teeth. It's not expensive chocolates I crave, but Sour Patch Kids, Sour Punch Straws, and although I've never had them, Uncle Oinker's Gummy Bacon.
Damn the braces boys and girls, put a dentist's kid through Vassar by following this handy candy pyramid.
A new favorite, Haribo Sour S'ghetti, comes in what the German company calls a Hanging Bag. Yes, a hanging. Bag.
Other hanging bags of interest: Clown Fish, Happy Cola, Mini Rainbow Frogs, and Battle-Snakes (okay I know they're really Rattle-snakes, but Battle-Snakes sounds so much cooler and that's what it looks like on smaller bags). Funny Germans. Haribo's tiny-hard Gold-Bears are also among my favorites from this gummi food group.
Sour S'ghetti may look like bait, but it tastes like julienned Sour Punch Straws. The green apple is a little too tart, and the blueberry isn't nearly as pleasant as the strawberry, but somehow they all go well together.
If you're pregnant, munched out, or someone who likes sweet, sour, and salty, you may enjoy them with a bag of Synder's Butter Snaps.
Fun Fact: The Trolli candy pictured in the pyramid's bottom left is gummi Road Kill, extinct due to an outbreak of political correctness.

Arnott's Original Tim Tams

The first time I read about the "irresistible chocolate biscuit" on the Brit candy site Chocablog, I knew I had to have them. The cookie I mean. Although I've always been fond of the folks at Chocablog. That last link is the Tim Tams review posted by an Aussie who joked:
*"What’s the difference between an Australian and a tub of yoghurt?


And thanks to my blogger buddy, Brigid (aka Miss Eagle) of The Eagle's Nest and Oz Tucker, I've been tucking into the crunchy, creamy, dreamy, milk chocolate, double wafer cookies for the last few weeks. Making them last you see, but the last of the last is inches away from my greedy front teeth.
I like to scrape, dissect, and crunch.
They're a friendly cookie, good sized, and rich, rich, rich; named after a Kentucky Derby winner. Not quite Kit Kats, they're more like a fancy chocolate wafer. I like how they use the word "engery" instead of calories. Puts it in perspective. To get rid of the 1600 kj of energy from four cookies, I'll have to swim 3600 meters and walk across Lake Mendota twice (once to get back). And I better do it soon because it's a whopping -2.7777777777777777 Celsius today.
The official site proudly displays its Balls, Chewy Caramel, Classic Dark, Double Coat, Love Potions, and so on. I was more than content with an 11 pack of Tim Tam Originals. Did you know they launched their Balls in September of 2005 (and haven't seen them since, ba da dum).
*After three days the yoghurt develops culture. Could we replace "Australian" with "redneck," James? Ponder that over a Newcastle and tell me what you think and why you're drinking Newcastle.

Inconvenient

I washed my car last night and didn't want to subject it to snow, fog, wind, water, ice, freezing rain, sleet, or downed power lines. So I went for a walk instead. That convenience store down the way has interesting candy, thought I. Look, another life form.

This is Josh from Glass Nickel Pizza. Put your gloves on, Josh! Is that the Atwood Ave. Glass Nickel delivering in this precipitation stew? Impressive. I wanted to give him a tip, but my money had frozen to the inside of my pocket. Cold, hard cash you say? Good one.

The last time I went a-wandering (Val-deri, Val-dera,) I met Bill and Lacey. It was much nicer out, although there had been a blizzard the day before. Of course there had. Lacey's got the same expression my mother gets when dad insists on talking to everyone he meets. Leave it to an old guy to find one of the few toilets on the park's 422 acres.

There are Secret Window vibes coming from behind this tangle of ice. Do you think they have candy in there? Bet there's lots of corn. Better yet, candy corn. Think I'll go home and have a Tim Tam.
Next in the dish: Tim Tams, if there are any left.

Heart Chocolate

A little worse for the wear, I got some Heart Chocolate in the mail the other day. It might look a little broken hearted, but it's a filling, rich, dark chocolate which comes in handy servings wrapped in hyperbole.
I'm not saying I disbelieve there could be health benefits, but the label gave me nightmares. It did. It literally gave me nightmares that should come with their own warning labels. (If I would have read them I would have gotten the hell out of there and into somebody else's nightmares. Which I can only hope I am already.)
Since the Heart Chocolate Web site has "Worried About Diabetes?" boldly stamped on their home page, let's start there.
Maybe Heart Chocolate with CM-X is a good choice for people with Type 2 diabetes, high cholesterol, and related cardiovascular conditions, but let's face it, fruit, vegetables, nuts, seeds, or skipping the occasional snack and going for a walk would be better.
But some of us must have our snacks, and many of us must have our chocolate.
Here's what I know: I like the taste and actually find it satisfying. There's a pleasant grainy crunch, and the cocoa flavor fills the gaps in my freshly flossed teeth.

Nutrition Comparison Facts (Valeur nutritive)
Heart Chocolate 14g, 60 Calories/SD Chocolove 30g, 160 Calories
HC 5g Fat/Chocolove 12g Fat
HC 7g Carbs/Chocolove 15g Carbs
HC 0mg Sodium/Chocolove 23mg Sodium
HC 6% Iron/Chocolove 10% Iron

The Strong Dark Chocolove isn't too far off for the serving size, with Heart Chocolate the clear sodium winner. Chocolove's sonnets contain no calories.
Heart Chocolate is made with CM-X, a compound made with extracts of cinnamon and *bitter melon. I don't know what else is in CM-X, but here's why the label could keep you up at night.
In the first place it's in English and French. I know, it's manufactured for Innovative Life Sciences in Toronto, but still. (Am I the only one who assumes all Canadians speak French?)
More strikingly, there's a Warning listed above the Non-Medical and Medicinal Ingredients which says "KEEP OUT OF REACH OF CHILDREN. DO NOT USE IF YOU ARE PREGNANT OR NURSING..." It also says something about consulting with your physician if you take prescription medications. I've never seen this on a bar of Snickers.
Heart Chocolate contains Peruvian balsam, which sounds like something I had at a party during the summer of '77 in a flat near the Mississippi.
Is it the Peruvian balsam, cinnamon, bitter melon, or the enigmatic connection to the cucumber family which compels you to clear the room of children and pregnant women before unwrapping a 60 calorie square?
Just one more bite. Then a carrot and a nice walk in the snow.

Addendum (from Cathy Wong of About.com):

*Bitter melon may decrease blood sugar and insulin levels, so it shouldn't be combined with diabetes medication or any other medication that affects blood sugar unless under a doctor's supervision.

Soft Ball Stage

Here's something to amuse you while I drop the next few posts in a cup of cold water.
I'm well on my way to becoming obsessed with LOST. According to the quiz below, I'm a British Hobbit with artistic tendencies and an addictive personality. With a bossy sibling. Spot on.
Click on the box below to take the Which LOST Character Are You? quiz. I was hoping to be Vincent.

And this is what I got the second time around. What was that about addictive personalities?

Which Lost Character Are You?

Created by BuddyTV

Chocolove Strong Dark Chocolate

I have a problem with the term zero visibility. Doesn't the zero negate the visibility? Shouldn't it be invisibility? Snow. It's everywhere. Teaming through the patio door, heaped up against the garage door, preventing the car from reaching the top of the driveway to escape a neighbor rapidly declining in mental health.
After spending more time trying to put on an old pair of cross country skis than skiing, I gave up, and had a bite of Chocolove Strong Dark, 70%. This was the bar I was standing my ground with at the co-op. It has a love poem inside, which I pointed out to the Bowie hair clerk to whom I was trying to justifying buying the Chocolove along with the Santander in the orange wrapper. Bowie hair regarded this small talk the way you'd regard a declined credit card. I think she knew I just had a lip wax.

Chocolove also makes Chilies & Cherries and Crystallized Ginger chocolate bars. Shudder. I only found three Chocolove milk chocolates. Their highest cocoa content is in the Extra Strong Dark, 77% Cocoa. I guess that's strong enough.
The Strong Dark 70%, a bittersweet Belgian chocolate I purchased under duress, was a bar I planned on getting my mother to review. But she called me to say I shouldn't be on the roads today (after talking to my Aunt Eva, who called her to say she'd just talked to me, and between the two of them concluded I was stopping by to deliver soup).
See how that works? Neither rain, nor snow, nor zero visibility can stop the Blue Hair Network.
The Chocolove Strong Dark is more bitter and less smooth than the 70% Santander. But they spell cocoa the normal way and it's fun to nibble the nutty, heavy, bitter bar while reading Elizabeth Barrett Browning.
"A sense of pleasant ease on such a day'—" indeed.

Ha!

Rednecks and football go together like smiles and slobber.
Not even the Super Bowl, James? For shame!
Love to Eli, David, Michael, Plaxico, Osi, and the gang (even Tom Coughlin).
Sssmmacckk, slobber.

Santander Chocolate

Day 12, Santander: Dark Chocolate in an orange wrapper, 70% Cacao
I got this point of purchase chocolate from the WSA, or Community Pharmacy, where they still have a State Street address even though they've been on West Gorham for years. Haven't they? I never was in step with that place, last I checked they had me living on West Mifflin. And that was a long. Time. Ago. And what's with all the condoms? They come in jars, wrapped in bars, *taste like Mars.
I was there to pay over $48.00 dollars for my first bottle of fish oil because, well, apparently I'm an idiot. The cashier insisted I try the Santander Dark Chocolate in the orange wrapper (which orange wrapper?—I'm old, leave me alone), and because she looked as if she could beat the living snot out of me, or at least name 20 things to do with tofu, I got two bars of chocolate, hoping that one of them would be right one, I mean left one, I mean the correct one.
I think the Bowie haircut intimidated me. Reminded me of squirrels. Or maybe it's because I'm from a family of Madison cops. Yes, I was a cop's daughter in the sixties, in Madison, WI, and all that entails. And it entails a lot. So I always try to look as if I don't shave my arm pits when I go into co-ops. Besides, I already stood my ground in the herbal tea section. Or tried to. Where am I going to put all this lemongrass ginger hibiscuss tea?


Chocolate, yes, the scent fills the air from one quick nibble. I'll have another bite right now. Strong. Tastes like cocoa, 70% cocoa I'd venture. You get that powdery munch of cocoa which lingers on your tongue and keyboard. It's crunchy and melty all at the same time. Exquisite almost. But being Day 12 of something I started the second week of December, I'd be out of adjectives by now even if I had them to begin with. Which I didn't, so feast on this description from Santander.

The bitter taste quickly changes to chocolate taste
that takes up the hues of rich nuts, flowers, and fruits.
It fills up all your taste buds and slowly releases the
lingering flavor of extraordinary chocolate of fine
"Criollo" and "Trinitarian" origin. It is ideally paired
with cognac, single malt Scotch whisky or reserve wines.

Really? Never in a million tofu-filled years would I have come up with that. Maybe I should do a fish oil shooter and ponder rich nut hues.
*That's a joke, son, and no reflection on the fine prophylactic and other products from Mars or the Community Pharmacy.

Out Damned Spot: Queen Anne Dark Chocolate Peppermint Cordial Cherries

That's a mouthful. And so are these classic candies. Queen Anne Dark Chocolate Peppermint Cordials are what the hilarious female, bee hived hair in rollers, watching her stories, would eat in a sitcom. Or a fifties screwball comedy.
The two tiers of ten cordials are filled with drippy fondant and red syrup wrapped in dark chocolate. It doesn't really matter if they taste of plastic and cardboard, and who cares how old they are, you can keep a box in your bomb shelter, and they'll taste the same as they did the day you got them.
The piquant cordials lock in a taste which sticks to your teeth long after you've come to your senses and pushed them aside.
Fools, you can't just close the flap on a box of Queen Anne's Cordial Cherries and be done with it. The creamy sweet filling clings to you like a living thing. They call to you in the night. You'll think how well one or two would go with a glass of skim milk.
"It's skim milk," you'll tell yourself. "There's even milk in the ingredients and peppermint will help with my indigestion (indigestion from eating half a box of cordials)."
The cherry cream is harder to scrape off than a bad boyfriend. You can't wash him off, he's everywhere. Drinking your beer, eating your leftover Uno's Pizza, never filling the ice cube trays...I mean the peppermint cordial cherries (shouldn't that be cherry cordials?) which have oozed onto a copy of my tenant's rights, stick to everything. I've washed my hands twice in the last 15 minutes, and I think there's a kind of Lady Macbeth thing going on with this candy.
You'll have to excuse me, I need a minute to, uh, wash up, yes, wash up and go to bed.
[Evil laugh muffled by the sound of chocolates being stuffed into mouth ends Act V Scene 1.]
WARNING: Apparently the note "REAL CHERRIES—may contain pits or pit fragments" isn't as funny as I thought. These things are getting more sinister by the minute.

Kissables

Equal Time.
Meet Miss Vickers. She ain't never chased a rabbit, but she is a friend of mine. Known as the "good dog," she'll eat a cup of Rocky's bread sticks, strip the car of dog treats and every wayward piece of gum, then retreat to the back seat before you come out of the video store with that movie about pies. And she'll know, somehow, the movie is about pies. Her photo appeared in an article (which I've yet to put up) about Pet Psychic Faye Pietrokowsky, who did a reading of the old girl via email.
And speaking of chocolate (weak, no?), I picked up a bag of Hershey's Kissables in a hoarding frenzy during today's hail/snow/ice/thunder does this mean Favre's deal with the devil is back on/storm.
I know it's not a new candy, but I was attracted to these festive Valentine's Day colors. They remind me of M&M's with better tasting chocolate—actually I'd forgotten how rich and smooth a Hershey's Kiss can be. Maybe it's the new sugar unfriendly diet. Maybe it's like getting lucky after a dry spell. A long, long, dry, dry spell, but these were tasty.
The candy coating is almost, but not quite, overkill, and the crunch is fun. You have to admit, they do look good in a cookie. The candy coated mini kisses are perfectly sweet, like the regular sized kisses, and have that flavorful bite which shows someone is at least trying.
Not exactly Old Speckled Hen, but no Point Beer either. Yeah, that's right, I went to happy hour before I wrote this.

Tossing Cookies

Here ya go Jimbo.

Candy Coated Packer Pretzel Balls

Frozen Tundra my Irish arse.
What do The Packers have in common with Candy Coated Packer Pretzel Balls?
They're green and gold
They weren't good enough to make it to The Bowl
They're lousy frozen
They're a choking hazard
It will be a week tomorrow and Cheeseheads around here are still blubbing. Mothers have cleaned the duct tape off their children, and re-raised the flags on their Packer mailboxes, further confusing the mailman.
If I have to hear another grown man weep over the loss of a football game, I'm going to duct tape them to a chair, and force feed them Packer Pretzel Balls until they've watched every Rosie O'Donnell episode of The View.
Officially called Team Colors Party Mix, this is one tiny bag of balls. They taste like those coated pretzels you find at the grocery store, only ball shaped.
For the diet conscious who wouldn't have a problem if they knew what it's like to raise seven children in a tool shed then fish Lake Mendota with nothing but a string and a rusty nail after collecting coal all day: 140 Calories for 18 tiny balls, 6g Fat, 19g Carbs. Hardly seems worth it now, does it? It took the efforts of five artificial dyes with the word "lake" in them to color this bag of nonsense green and gold.
The ho hum balls are made in Cedarburg (which used to have a good fish fry) by C.P. Twist. This company also makes something called Cheezels in party size tubs. Just what the kids need. Now wipe the snot off your face and go shovel the walk.

Emergency Chocolate

Warning: After a recent near death experience—the most serious threat was the ER staff interrupting me as I tried to watch the playoffs—this is even less a comprehensive candy review than usual. Maybe that's why the TVs are so high, so in case something goes terribly wrong you can watch the Cowboys lose one last time as you rise to your maker. I'm assuming rise. Am I assuming too much? My dead Irish grandmother, btw, would have smacked T.O. upside the head for blubbering on national TV like that. Am I being too harsh?
Shaky Transition
So for Christmas I wrapped up three bars of Bloomsberry & Co. chocolate. My sister the nurse got the Emergency Chocolate (she's been on this "Do. Not. Bring. Any. More. Sweets. Into. This. House." kick), so it seemed fitting. It's an Emergency, enjoy. Guido, the nephew in high school, got a bar of Instant Gratification, and my mother, the candyholic forever trying to cheat death by eating cereals that should come baled, got a 3.5 ounce bar of 100% Guilt Free Chocolate.
Other popular Bloomsberry titles include Eat Me, BoChox, and the undoubtedly popular Oral Pleasure (34% cocoa). Oral Pleasure says it's "For internal and external and internal and external use." Eewww. Bloomsberry & Co. is from New Zealand, where I guess they need a sense of humor.

My Trip To The ER
Convinced tainted cherries and a junk food jamboree were responsible for an Alien level belly ache, I toughed it out for two hours Sunday morning before slipping on my Crocs, making sure I had on clean underwear, and driving to my favorite ER. (This hospital serves Babcock ice cream and bakes the blueberries right into their pancakes.)
You could drop dead in triage, where they were more concerned about the parking lot than the doubled up rag that could barely lift her head to watch the Chargers at Colts in the waiting room. But once those sliding doors admitted you into the ER, it went from Kansas to Oz. The cable reception was good, the remote was within reach, and the drugs came quickly and often. I was optimistic despite being offered opiates like a tray of potato knishes. Or maybe because I was being offered opiates like a tray of potato knishes.
No one seemed too interested in my wax baggie of tainted cherries. They made me drink a pitcher of "contrast" and put me in this humming ring that reminded me of the Stargate bred with a copy machine.
I got laughs when I asked "Could I get meds-to-go so I can watch the last game at home?" I was being serious. Just before I went into surgery to get my appendix out I asked, "Are you sure it's not just a little gas?" Still not kidding.
It wasn't gas, and now I have an unreasonable fear of fresh fruit.
This counts as Day 11.

Brent's Fiery Beer Brittle

I came across this peanut brittle while looking for chocolate beer and Monroe's Lazy Mutt at Brennan's.
"Monroe, what was from the Monroe Brewing Company," I kept asking myself. No, not the frolicking Fat Squirrel or meandering Spotted Cow. The New Glarus Brewing Company is of course in New Glarus, the town that banned The Pints—ironic, no?
Lazy Mutt is made in the town that brought us Huber, as in: *"I'm drinking Huber because I'm out on Huber Law."
Perhaps more famously known as the Joseph Huber Brewing Company (among others), the brewery is now the Minhas Craft Bewery. No more Joseph Huber, but some young Kanook with a degree in petroleum engineering (eh?) named Ravinder Minhas is the new Monroe Brew King.
The point of all this: Fiery Beer Brittle, although made in Napa Valley, beer capital of the world, is made with Brennan's Cellars Amber Beer. The packaging looks like an inviting bottle of wine, but if you close your eyes and try real hard, you can almost taste the beer. Almost. You mostly taste chili de Arbol powder and savory brittle.
I can not stop eating this stuff. First I sampled it with reservation and the idea I'd give it to someone with a palette for spicy snacks. As the days went by, a wayward nibble turned into a small bite, which gate-wayed into way too much.
At first I was trying to wash off the thick dust of chili pepper, even patting the candy dry to get to the sweet, sweet brittle. But after three pieces for breakfast this morning, my dalliance was over.
Initially reminiscent of Guatemalan Insanity Peppers, the Fiery Brittle became more of a Narnian-Arrakis Turkish spice melange. I became hooked.
They tried to make me go to sugar rehab, but I said no, no, no.
*Huber beer was so cheap you could get a case for $3.46, return the bottles for your deposit, $3.46, and buy another case. It wasn't what you'd call "premium" beer. The joke was, it contained so little alcohol that prisoners on work release could drink it and return to jail sober.

Necco Chocolate Sweethearts

Day 10, Yes I'm still doing this, Chocolate Necco Sweethearts: You know them, you've thrown them around the classroom, it's one of the cheapest Valentine's Day candies in existence, it's the Necco Conversation Heart, chocolate style.
Chocolate is actually listed in the ingredients along with a couple gums and five different dyes. If you took a handful of regular Sweethearts and let them soak in the bottom of a carton of chocolate milk (along with a bit of chalk)—long enough to flavor but not long enough to disintegrate—you'd have a chocolate conversation heart. I can't tell you what happens to the conversation.
It's interesting that Necco comes up with ten new sayings and a theme each year, because the chocolate heart on the bottom left clearly says "Mug Me," and another declares "Maniac." I like the inclusion of the gay community with the "Love Boys" heart, although I don't understand one that says either "Now Mancat" or "Mow Moron."
Not crazy about the nagging "Call Home," or the desperate "Marry Me"—wouldn't "Have You Been Tested" or "I Hope You Choke On This" go better with the pragmatic "Get Real."
Did you know there's a conversation heart plant just east of here in Pewaukee? I didn't.
Not worth a drive through a foggy tornado or the inevitable flooding, but 110 Calories a box (almost two "full" boxes fit into one) and as much sugar as you'd expect, make the Necco Chocolate Sweetheart a decent Valentine's snack which tastes better than it needs to.

Welcome To Wisconsin

I have to drive through fog practically every day as it is, but enough with the 100 car pileups, killer icicles, and weather already. And a tornado warning? I hear it's mostly FIB bound, but after the season da Bears had they don't need another disaster.
Ba da dum.Postscript: At least six tornadoes spun through southeastern Wisconsin after I posted today. At least three in Kenosha County, and another one flattened a town near Milwaukee. Get them, smoke them, pour another one, have your fun now, roll in the mud with a redneck, and sing along with REM—it's Armageddon people, and southern Wisconsin is ground zero. Must be Satan collecting on that deal he made with Favre.

Day 9

Where was I?
Ah yes, the Twelve Days of Christmas, or Chocolate—either way it ended Saturday, the Epiphany being Sunday. My mother referred to the holy day (between bites of the forbidden Christmas fudge my sister banned from her house because "we are all on diets") as "Mini Christmas." At which point I heard my grandmother scream, "Why dida we waste alla da money ona da private's eschool" from the big Italian table in Catholic Heaven.
So the Epiphany, aka, Mini Christmas, was Sunday, which made me think it was time to haunt the melting Walgreen's Christmas aisle to see if they had completely cleared out the birth of our Lord for the fat little naked guy. No, not Danny DiVito, and I'm still sans limoncello.
There were surprisingly few Valentine's Day items, although I did come across the tub o' Cocoa Deli Rocky Road Clusters pictured above. I'd show you the unwrapped candy photos, but they look a scosh too much like a Christmas present the dog would leave. The chocolate doo drops were so bad, that after one bite I decided to ditch them in a snow bank.
Those Cocoa Deli Popsicles were to die for; someone even wrote me Jonesin' for some long after Belgian chocolate popsicle season was over. Cocoa Deli Rocky Road Clusters, not so much. They're not worth .99 cents of the $6.99 asking price. They taste like stale Chunkys, look nothing like the picture on the tub, and I left them as after dinner mints for indiscriminate squirrels. A few nibbles reminded me of eating the paper that sticks to melted chocolate, then solidifies, then you find it weeks or possibly months later, and eat it when you think no one is looking.
Not that I've done that.

Quarter Christmas Meme

I promised fellow ched Ms. M. a Fav Things of Christmas meme, but I cut my finger on a can of Black Label so here's little copy (~applause~) and my top three. Hey, for very few would I even make the attempt. Did I mention my finger?

Nephew #1, Joey the sailor boy and oldest (the other two call him "The Prince"), full of enough Christmas cheer to propel an aircraft carrier. The more he drinks, the younger he gets. He's about six here.

Nephew #2, The ignored middle child, Chris, the college boy, with Leinie's lip balm and Miller Lite Beer Mints. Do you see a pattern?

Nephew #3, Guido, the baby, all tuckered out from helping with the spedini and sitting on the couch. The downstairs is beginning to look like a frat house.