2 new crap sites for your perusal:
http://www.wtfstarter.com is a collection of oddball stuff found at Kickstarter.com
http://www.islindsaylohaninjailrightnow.com is… well, what the site name implies.
PB&J Candwich (6 months old)
A man, a can, a plan, a crappy sandwich!
What’s up, science? We can put a man on the moon, we can stream pterodactyl porn across a series of copper wires and glass tubes to my phone in my pocket, anywhere in the world (Seriously, that type of film exists. Don’t ask me how I know.), we can spray freaking skin cells onto a burn patient with a freaking squirt gun, and have them heal insanely fast, but a long-lasting, tasty, easy to transport in pneumatic tube peanut butter and jelly sandwich has somehow managed to constantly slip through the grips of science’s diabolical hands.
Oh, wait. You mean a canned PB&J with a one year shelf life exists?
Hold on... Quick, AND tasty?! Sign me up!
This is what we’ve been waiting for, folks. Years of research, development, blood, sweat, and tears have all led up to this moment. Do you know how many people had to die in a centrifuge to make this possible?
Actually, five. Also, I don’t really know what centrifuges had to do with the creation of this, but that’s why we have grants, people.
But those deaths were NOT in vain. Behold!
The same could be said for shiny pebbles, but they didn't have the marketing budget.
It fulfills every mission set forth by the Canned PBJ Mandate of 2009. I bought these (yes, plural, no, I don’t know why. I have 3 left, if anyone is interested) in May or June of 2011, making these samples currently about 6 months old, but still a solid 6+ months from their expiration (or maturation) date of June 20-freaking-12.
I CAN HAZ PREZERVATIV?
If Billy Mays wasn’t in hiding (don’t think for a second he’s actually dead, that’s what the government wants you to think), he’d be happy to scream about the final incredible aspect… Wait for it…
I mean really, it's not a surprise anymore, but I guess it's the thought that counts.
BOOM! Candy Surprise. In your FACE flu vaccine!
So, we pop this mythical beast open, and with a quite unnerving gush of air, dump out the contents (vid at the bottom)… A sealed bun-type piece of bread that’s riding solo, and not even sliced, a plastic knife, a packet of squeeze peanut butter, a packet of squeeze jelly, a piece of cherry Laffy Taffy (which was worse for the wear than the sandwich materials), and a desiccant pack for science/freshness.
To be completely honest, I was sort of let down by science at this point. I was hoping in the however-many-years science has been sciencing, I’d at least have a pre-made nasty sandwich, and not have to build it myself. I mean, why time-capsulize everything seperately, when you KNOW that people in the future (or now) are going to be remarkably lazy? I mean, sure, it’d most likely make the bread a nasty mess, but you have to think of the children. The lazy, lazy children. I mean, you’re handing over some poor soul a CANNED SANDWICH. Let’s set the expectations realistically here.
Anyway, as you can see in the ever-so-professionally produced video below, I roughly assembled, and consumed said canned goodness.
Taste: I wish I could explain what I was eating. The bread was very obviously… well, it wasn’t bread. At least not in the normal sense of how you’d think bread would taste or feel in your mouth. Really sweet, really, well, obviously preserved.
Texture: The jelly was partially separated, and the peanut butter was technically peanut butter, but was barely spreadable, like it really just wanted to stay in tube form. Can you blame it? The bread was remarkably crumbly and firm, and again, just overall odd.
JK Score: 3/10 Not inedible, if I was in a bomb shelter, I’d totally eat it if need be, but I sure as hell am not going to pneumatically tube one of these to anyone I liked, when i could just, you know, make them a flipping PB&J.
Of course, that candy surprise was 6+ months old, and couldn’t even come out of the wrapper in one piece. It gave me a sad.
Moving picture futuristic amazement:
Sweet Action Ice Cream
Disclaimer: We went here on a whim, and didn’t think to bring a camera, and was too caught up in the moment to break out the phones, so, sorry in advance -JK
It’s summer. This summer, in particular, has been pretty much on the annoying side of hot in Denver this year. Thankfully, it’s that ever-so-annoying-to-say (at least it’s a) dry heat.
All the more reason to go seek out some frozen cow byproduct.
My buddy Rob told me of Sweet Action back in May, when he got a hold of them for his Mental Floss article, “7 Alternative Uses for Beer”.
Of course, it was March, and most likely snowing or something here, and I had no time for such frozen dairy thingers. My friend Eric decided to text me about the beer ice cream a month or so ago, and while the weather was more appropo, we were in the midst of planning a wedding, and yet again, frozen tasties were the last thing on our collective minds.
Enter today. Hot as hell, nothing to do, lazy-ass Sunday. Perfect. Ice cream that mofo up, as we say in… well, nowhere. I don’t think anyone ever really says that. But they should start doing it. Now. Dammit.
Like any good members of the Internet generation, we went to their website first to check the flavor board and prepare oursleves mentally for the journey we were about to undergo.
While, sadly, the only beer option on the menu was a Smoked Porter S’More (never been a fan of smokey beers), I did spy two things that intrigued me quite a bit more:
Stranahan’s Whiskey Brickle, and the second-only-to-vanilla staple ice cream flavor, Colorado Sweet Corn.
Duh.
For those who don’t know, Stranahan’s is a locally-distilled single-barrel Colorado Whiskey, and is freaking awesome. If you have the means to obtain it, I HIGHLY recommend it.
So, we set forth on our journey. Hopes high, spirits soaring. Parking was easily procured on Broadway since it was a Sunday, and shockingly, for a 95 degree day in Denver, there was a minimal line at the shop.
I decided it would behoove me to hit a taster before going for the full-scoop commitment. I asked for a taster of the sweet corn. The dude behind the counter procured his tiny spoon, and dug it into a vat of ice cream that looked like it had only been touched by taster spoons, and never a scoop. Always the bridesmaid, never the bride, so to speak. But whatever the corn equivalent of that is.
As I took a whiff, it smelled… Well, like corn. And it had pieces of corn in it. Hrm.
The taste and mouth feel was completely bizarre. Like some sort of really cold bite of creamed corn. But sweeter. And ice cream. Just. Weird.
I stuck with what I knew, and ordered a double-scoop cone of the Stranahan’s Whiskey Brickle, which was AMAZING. Like a really sweetened version of Stranahan’s Whiskey, with an instantly recognizable flavor, minus the pepper-y-ness that’s present in the liquid version. Oh, and with toffee chunks.
Anyway, awesome place, awesome people, awesome ice cream. It was like being a kid again. But with more whiskey.
Must Try: Stranahan’s Whiskey Brickle, Chocolate Peanut Butter Chip
Avoid: Colorado Sweet Corn. Unless you REALLY like creamed corn, and wish you could have it in a much colder form than normal.
JK Score: 10/10 Definitely one of those ‘something for everyone’ places. Even if you’re lactose intolerant, or otherwise don’t dig on animal juice, they always have a few vegan options as well. And giant-ass cookies that looked amazing.
Sweet Action Ice Cream
52 Broadway
Denver, CO 80203
http://www.sweetactionicecream.com
Ch-ch-ch-changes!
Just a heads-up, thingsjkeats.com (and every site I have otherwise) will be moving to a new host next week. So since I’m pretty unprepared for the move (i.e. don’t have a new host lined up yet and an expiring account), don’t be shocked if you’re unable to access all that is my awesomeness next week, and for a bit after while I get everything migrated and upgraded and situmanated. It’s a word.
Wasabi Gumballs
Hunger Strike – Day 307:
The first 305 days really weren’t too shabby. Lot of time to play chess, read books, hallucinate, and pass out form lack of nutrition. Day 306, I started looking at bookshelves funny. Not because they were starting to look like food, just because I thought it said something to me. About holding books. When the bookcases become self-aware, look out Jujubear.
I couldn’t take it anymore.
Luckily, one of my loyal readers and old friends from high school sent me a bunch of random most-likely-nasty stuff entirely too long ago (Hey Stacy!). So I decided to eat it.
Oh hey, look. Stuff!
What could possibly go wrong?
Looking at the thingers… They’re greener than a green… something. Sorry, it’s been a while since I’ve done this, I’m kinda rusty. They’re green.
They don’t smell like anything, which is either really really good, or really really not good.
Texture: Well, it definitely exploded in my mouth. With dryness. Very weird. And then it turned into an incredibly hard piece of gum within about 4.6 seconds.
Taste: Horrible. Not wasabi at all. I have absolutely no idea what it was, but it sucked. Not like “holy crap I have to spit this out before I catch mouth-death”, but more “wow, this just sucks”. Very weird.
Did I mention it was weird?
I really got to polish up this whole “writing” thing.
Oh, hi! I’m back.
Bigass Orange Gummy Bear
Big bear! Big bear chase me!
…and… be orange flavored. And gummy.
It was bound to happen. The irradiation of all of our food items, while making them nice and glossy and longer-lasting, was bound to have side effects. And sadly, the first to be affected are always the gummy bears.
Seriously. It’s sad.
Also, they’re apparently the first food items to be put in Han Solo-style tombs and displayed in the prize area at Dave & Busters. I can’t into the specific details of how so many superflourous tickets were acquired, but let’s just say I’m not proud of the things I did for a bucket of paper scraps.
People of the court, if you will… Exhibit A: “Bear in plastic”
It's like a regular gummy bear....but all individually wrapped. Oh, and huge.
Upon closer inspection, you will also see that this particular neon-orange bear is, oddly enough, “Orange Flavor”.
I has an Orange Flavor
And just for the sake of proving the validity of the “Bigass” portion of my statement regarding the bear, I present Exhibit A, alongside Exhibit B, which I call “cat”, for scale and proportion.
No kitty, that's my pot pie... Err.. Giant nasty gummy bear thing.
Flip the badboy upside down, and you’ll see the “Nutrition” facts. I put that in swarmy quotes because the single bear contained within has OVER A THOUSAND FUGGING CALORIES. Oh, according to some savvy conversions it weighs about 3/4 of a pound.
This is some serious-ass gummy here.
...so I cheat a little on my Atkins diet.
I’m going to preface the unveiling and consumption video below with two statements:
1) I’m freakin tired, easily distracted, and not completely sure what I’m doing.
2) The audio goes completely out of sync at the end. Sorry.
…yah. It’s gummy.
I seriously took one more bite out of the thing about 5 minutes post-video, and had to spit it out. It’s just too much sugar. I mean… wow.
Texture: Hah. Hah. As you can see in the vid, it’s definitely gummy. And by gummy, I mean more dense than
Cuz… He’s chewy. Like a fox. Did I mention I’m tired?
Seriously? The thing is chewier than all get-out, and has the consistency of one of those gummy erasers. If you tried to eat one. Which… You shouldn’t.
Taste: It’s orange for damn sure. Smells like orange Jello… tastes like… really, really, sweet orange gummy. Just stupid sweet. Also like Abe Vigoda.
JK Score: 3/10 It gets points for performing as advertised, but anything I can’t consume more than two bites of automatically gets docked. I mean, given the dietary info, it’s probably not a bad thing necessarily, but c’mon. Plus my jaw hurts. From two bites.
Doritos 3rd Degree Burn Scorchin’ Habanero
Anyone that knows me, knows 3 things about me:
1) I’m not proud of my third nipple, but I’m not ashamed of it, either.
2) I served two tours in ‘Nam.
3) I like spicy crap.
Seriously. Give me a nuclear Bloody Mary with Dave’s Insanity Sauce after a heavy night of drinking, and I’m one happy camper. Really, I’m like George…
I’m generally pretty bummed out when I find something labeled “Hot” in the grocery store or in a fast food setting. If there’s one thing I’ve learned in this life, it’s that people are hot wusses.
So when I saw these pretties sitting on the shelf at my local 7-11, I grabbed them.
Whoomp. There it is. Or they are. I guess it depends if we're referring to the bag, singular, or chips, plural. Either way, whoomp.
… Because I needed a reason to post a new entry. Sue me.
Upon removal from the bag, and pointless macro photography, you see they are basically Doritos, only redder than red. Even more red than the Diablo Enchilada chips, if that’s even possible.
And then since Mr. Doritos bag was promising the 3rd Degree Burn, I decided to give the bag the 3rd degree…
Does Marsallus Wallace look like a bitch?
There was a good 20 minutes of thorough interrogation. It ended up with me getting all sorts of great information, including the knowledge that these are, in fact, a bag of Doritos, and Doritos, by design, don’t respond well to any sort of questioning. Because they’re chips. And not people.
Oh well.
Texture: I’m not sure why I even bother. They’re fucking Doritos. They feel very Dorito-y in your mouth.
Taste: A little nacho-y, only sweeter, is the best I can describe. You stop caring once the burn hits. Nice delay behind it, but once it it hits, it hits hard. These chips, my friends, are hot. Eat a lot in succession, and you’ll be sweating, and have your sinuses cleared. Yes. They’re hot. They nailed it. Finally.
JK Score: 9/10 I killed the entire (99 cent) bag in one sitting, fairly quickly. They made me sweat and my nose run. It was awesome. I’m deducting a point for them making me look like a wuss.
Strawberried Peanut Butter M&M’s
This is the part where I rant about how much things are derivative now, and excessively link back to previous posts. Just for the record. That should be here. But I’m lazy.
So… Yah. They’re M&M’s… Peanut butter M&M’s obviously, which is a non-original derivitive itself (but freakin’ tasty, and quite possibly my favorite of the ‘semi-original’ M&M… flavors? Are they considered flavors?
Sure. Flavor. Love me some PB M&M’s.
I just realized how much this entry sucked. Sorry about that. I’m sitting here eating these things trying to figure out WTF is wrong with them.
Oh. Um, pictures… Seriously… What the hell is goin on here?
Sorry, sorry.
Pictures. Right. Dude. What IS that flavor? Uh…
Oh. Here’s the package of them.
And you rip it open, so it says “Peanut Butt” on the one part, and it’s awesome.
Texture: Standard-issue peanut butter M&M’s going on here.
Taste: I’m still confused. Seriously.
..
DUDE.
CRUNCHBERRIES.
Thank god. That was gonna drive me insane. Ok, so… They taste like Crunch Berries. So, if you can’t find the “Strawberried” PB M&M’s, just grab a bag of regular M&Ms, a box of Crunch Berries… Seperate all the ‘berries’ (or buy the awesome “Oops! All Berries” if it still exists) and throw the whole mess in your mouth. Same exact thing.
Seriously. I’m glad I figured that out. Wow.
JK Score: 6/10 Seriously, Crunch Berries. It’s overpowering, it’s weird, and it doesn’t work. Kinda like Lady Gaga.
Bacon MotherEffin’ Waffles.
BACON.
WAFFLES.
Yes, it’s derivative.
Yes, it’s fucking awesome.
BACON.
WAFFLES.
BACON. WAFFLE. DAMMIT.
I’m not even reviewing these.
10. Done. Awesome.
Hickory Farms Beef Summer Sausage (aka The Consolation Sausage)
A glancing backstory: my wife left me last summer, we got divorced. It sucked, I moved on, and am much, much happier and better off now. The end.
That’s it. Now you’re completely up to speed.
So, I come home from work a few days before Christmas and have a long UPS box on my porch. It’s from the ex-in-laws (is that the correct title?). It’s a 32oz Hickory Farms Beef Summer Sausage. “Sorry our daughter sucks, here’s two pounds of processed beef in a paper casing” was the implied message. At least that’s how I took it.
They say that divorce is hardest on the children. Lies. Dirty, filthy lies. It’s hardest on the meat purveyors. Packaging awkward sympathy alongside beef, seasoning, hickory smoke flavoring, Sodium Erythorbate, and Sodium Nitrate isn’t an easy task for mere mortals. So, my apologies to the folks at Hickory Farms for being dragged through this sordid process. I know it’s not easy.
Just know, Hickory Farms, it had nothing to do with you, and there was nothing you could have done to prevent it.
Since I am but one man, I jumped the gun and chopped the 2-pound beeflog beast into more managable ziploc-sized chunks before thinking to take a picture of it. Honestly, photographing 2lb beef sticks was the farthest thing from my mind. There’s a porno joke in there somewhere, I just can’t seem to completely bring it full circle though. Just know it wasn’t lost on me.
Anyway, here’s a shitty stock photo of Consolation Sausage:
Not pictured: pain and anguish.
And after popping it out from its protective casing and slicing it up into lovely lonely-cracker-sized pieces:
I swear it’s not staged. Every single piece I cut has that. It’s like the Virgin Mary Grilled Cheese in every piece. I’m actually amazed it’s not crying beef blood. Or Sodium Nitrate blood.
Texture: Gritty, a bit scarred. Coarse, even. Twinges of awkward throughout.
Taste: Slightly bitter. The occasional hint of failure and embarrassment, and overall very dry. Oh, and meat. I guess it has meat flavors in it.
JK Score: 9/10 Why so high? Because, honestly, despite all the Consolation Sausage’s misgivings, the intent was… assumedly benign, and well, sue me, I like Summer Sausage. Plus, had the sausage no need to exist, I wouldn’t be where I am today. So, yah. Go sausage!
