Tag Archives: halloween

31 Days of Junk: Ben & Jerry’s Pumpkin Cheesecake (#6)

Last October (2017), I made it a goal to drink 31 different beers—a new one each day—by the end of the month. Incredibly, I was successful in my attempt, which I dubbed #31FallBeers (look it up on any form of social media!) This year, I wanted to try something similar, but there were two important changes I needed to make. Firstly, I wanted to be able to expound more, so I decided against social media blurbs in favor of long-form posts on my site. Second: it needed to be much, much cheaper than drinking 31 different beers. The result? #31DaysOfJunk. Strap in and hold on tight, and please enjoy this month-long odyssey into the sugary, fatty belly of the autumnal beast.

The people at Ben & Jerry’s are great at what they do. Their ice cream creations remind me of the scene from Willy Wonka & the Chocolate Factory, where the kids eat the three-course meal pills. The little pills, unimpressive to the eye, end up containing incredible flavors and subtle nuances that the kids are able to describe in detail after eating. That’s how I feel whenever I try a new Ben & Jerry ice cream flavor.

It’d be easy to phone the pumpkin cheesecake flavor in. Lots of sugar, lots of cream, a bit of pumpkiny flavor. Boom, you’re done. But that’s where ol’ B&J stand out among their frozen dairy peers. There’s no other way for me to describe the flavor than just saying it tastes exactly like cheesecake. And that’s such a weirdly specific flavor to nail, but they do it!

I’m admittedly not a fan of cheesecake, so a few bites were enough for me. There is a graham cracker swirl, which I found a little too grainy for my tastes. Normally, I can scarf down a pint of Americone Dream in one sitting, but I had to put this one away after a couple of spoonfuls. But kudos to the Ben & Jerry folks for creating an absolutely spot-on ice cream version of pumpkin cheesecake.

31 Days of Junk: Trader Joe’s Chocolate Mousse Pumpkins (#5)

Last October (2017), I made it a goal to drink 31 different beers—a new one each day—by the end of the month. Incredibly, I was successful in my attempt, which I dubbed #31FallBeers (look it up on any form of social media!) This year, I wanted to try something similar, but there were two important changes I needed to make. Firstly, I wanted to be able to expound more, so I decided against social media blurbs in favor of long-form posts on my site. Second: it needed to be much, much cheaper than drinking 31 different beers. The result? #31DaysOfJunk. Strap in and hold on tight, and please enjoy this month-long odyssey into the sugary, fatty belly of the autumnal beast.

Trader Joe’s outdid themselves this year with the spooky-themed treats. In fact, I have a few more on the roster for this month, but there were several I skipped simply because there were too many; I didn’t want this becoming #31DaysOfTraderJoe’sJunk.

These are probably as fancy of a treat as I have planned this month, too. Chocolate mousse! Like I’m in some fine, Parisian restaurant.

Perhaps it’s the Indian summer happening here in L.A. (then again, it’s always this warm, isn’t it?), or perhaps it’s the fragile nature of these delicate little treats, but they were soft to the point of almost being melty. But between the softness of the cake and the thickness of the orange frosting, it made for an enjoyable bite.

They smell of chocolate, obviously, but the flavor isn’t pure chocolate—there’s a weird artificial flavor on that first chew. I think it’s the dye in the frosting. But hey, there’s something nostalgic about eating junkfood with a subtle plastic taste.

These are essentially showy Little Debbie Swiss Rolls. Surprisingly substantial and rich.  Would pair well with a nice glass of 2010 Chateau Lafite Rothschild Pauillac.

31 Days of Junk: Cadbury Screme Egg (#4)

Last October (2017), I made it a goal to drink 31 different beers—a new one each day—by the end of the month. Incredibly, I was successful in my attempt, which I dubbed #31FallBeers (look it up on any form of social media!) This year, I wanted to try something similar, but there were two important changes I needed to make. Firstly, I wanted to be able to expound more, so I decided against social media blurbs in favor of long-form posts on my site. Second: it needed to be much, much cheaper than drinking 31 different beers. The result? #31DaysOfJunk. Strap in and hold on tight, and please enjoy this month-long odyssey into the sugary, fatty belly of the autumnal beast.

Full disclosure: I don’t like Cadbury Creme Eggs. In fact, I don’t think I’ve ever eaten one, so maybe it’s unfair of me to say I don’t like them. As a kid, I genuinely thought it was a chocolate covered egg yolk/albumen, and that thought sickened me. So, naturally, I avoided them.

Here’s a funny story: In fifth grade, our teacher sprang an unexpected assignment on the class. “The first three people to turn in their papers,” he declared, “will get a surprise.” Of course, I just had to have that surprise, and being the little overachiever I was (a trait which waved bye-bye to me long ago), I actually finished first. I trotted up to my teacher’s desk, paper in hand, and eagerly awaited my surprise. He examined my work, gave an approving grunt, and then as if he’d suddenly remembered what he’d promised, frazzedly began rifling through his desk drawers, in search of the surprise he’d clearly fabricated in order to get the class to finish the assignment.

“Ah, here you go,” he said. From the top drawer of his desk, he produced an out-of-season Cadbury Creme Egg; dinged, dented, and flakes of foil peeled back and missing. This was my surprise. He handed me the egg (which, at the time, I think I still believed was a real egg), and sent me back to my desk. Talk about feeling scammed!

This is all to say that I really don’t have much to compare Cadbury’s spooky “Screme Egg” to. From the outside, it looks like a regular old Cadbury Creme Egg, the recognizable star shape stamped into the side of the chocolate shell. The inside of the Screme, however, is much cooler than a regular Creme: instead of yellow and white innards (barf), we get green and white innards! (Cool!)

The whiteness of the goo is a tad pearlescent, which is sort of pretty for a candy. When it got melty and mixed with the slime green, it created this minty color which looked like toothpaste. (Same consistency, too.) As for its flavor: straight-forward sugary vanilla, how I imagine it would taste eating a Yankee Candle.

All in all, a simple yet fun twist on the Easter treat.

31 Days of Junk: Hostess Caramel Apple Cupcakes (#2)

Last October (2017), I made it a goal to drink 31 different beers—a new one each day—by the end of the month. Incredibly, I was successful in my attempt, which I dubbed #31FallBeers (look it up on any form of social media!) This year, I wanted to try something similar, but there were two important changes I needed to make. Firstly, I wanted to be able to expound more, so I decided against social media blurbs in favor of long-form posts on my site. Second: it needed to be much, much cheaper than drinking 31 different beers. The result? #31DaysOfJunk. Strap in and hold on tight, and please enjoy this month-long odyssey into the sugary, fatty belly of the autumnal beast.

Holy shit! I could smell these suckers the second I opened the box. I’m talking smell them through their sealed cellophane from a good three feet away. I like when a food can do that: signal to me that it’s nearby.

This is junk food in its purest form. It’s cakey, it’s slathered in dense frosting, it has a creme center. It’s pure sugar and fat. It has absolutely no nutritional value. This is what you eat when you wanna do some real damage.

Smells like: super syrupy French toast with bananas. Tastes like: super syrupy French toast with bananas, oddly enough.

These are quite good and dangerously easy to eat. The cake itself is airy, and the whole thing has a bunch of different flavors melding in your mouth with each bite: apple, cinnamon, banana, syrup, vanilla. And there’s something strangely pleasant about the consistency of the frosting, which is stiff and grainy, like a layer of hardened candle wax. Plus, the vibrant blood-red swirl on top is a nice touch—good visual stimulation.

Buy these for pure sensory overload.

31 Days of Junk: Reese’s Puffs Bats (#1)

Last October (2017), I made it a goal to drink 31 different beers—a new one each day—by the end of the month. Incredibly, I was successful in my attempt, which I dubbed #31FallBeers (look it up on any form of social media!) This year, I wanted to try something similar, but there were two important changes I needed to make. Firstly, I wanted to be able to expound more, so I decided against social media blurbs in favor of long-form posts on my site. Second: it needed to be much, much cheaper than drinking 31 different beers. The result? #31DaysOfJunk. Strap in and hold on tight, and please enjoy this month-long odyssey into the sugary, fatty belly of the autumnal beast.

Sometimes you don’t even have to change the recipe, all you gotta do is change the color, or, in the case of Reese’s Puffs Peanut Butter Bats, change the shape.

Now, if you’ve ever eaten a bowl of Reese’s Puffs, you know what to expect. It’s one of those mouth-destroying cereals that belong in same the category as Cap’n Crunch; one bowl, and the roof of your mouth is shredded—raw and tender to the touch of your tongue. There’s also a weird, oily film which coats the cereal pieces (and in turn, the inside of your mouth). Still, even with all the oral destruction, it’s easy to put away three bowls in one sitting.

The Reese’s Puffs Peanut Butter Bats are no different. Well, they are, shape-wise. But the flavor (even the weird, oily sheen) is still the same.

Still, there’s something to be said about the way the flattened pieces somehow do less damage to the inside of one’s mouth than the standard cubelet-shaped pieces. A true miracle in cereal engineering, the flat bats just crunch easier. A more comfortable chew. It got me to wondering: is there the same amount of “material” in a bat-shaped Reese’s Puff as the cubelet-shaped Reese’s Puff? Does one have more mass than the other? Can that explain why the bat shapes are more mouth-friendly?

Too much science for me. All I know is: these taste the same as the Puffs, but your mouth won’t be hurting by bowl three.

31 Days of Junk: Charms Spider Web Cotton Candy (#8)

Last October (2017), I made it a goal to drink 31 different beers—a new one each day—by the end of the month. Incredibly, I was successful in my attempt, which I dubbed #31FallBeers (look it up on any form of social media!) This year, I wanted to try something similar, but there were two important changes I needed to make. Firstly, I wanted to be able to expound more, so I decided against social media blurbs in favor of long-form posts on my site. Second: it needed to be much, much cheaper than drinking 31 different beers. The result? #31DaysOfJunk. Strap in and hold on tight, and please enjoy this month-long odyssey into the sugary, fatty belly of the autumnal beast.

I bought this solely for the packaging. Kinda hard to pass up a metallic black bag covered in a web pattern and fun, colorful fonts. It’s not even especially well designed, but it is, for whatever reason, incredibly nice to look at. I can’t explain why things like this work sometimes; it’s art, man.

First smell out of the bag was pure chemical. Almost like a cleaning agent, or hand soap. I assure you, this did not dissuade me from eating it.

While I wouldn’t exactly call it sour, it does have a nice tang when it first hits the tongue. Then a quick flash of a muted apple flavor, like the last sip from a glass of apple juice after all the ice cubes have melted. And then all of that gives way to pure sugary sweetness. Kinda crazy that’s all cotton candy is: flavored sugar. But hey, it’s been working for 120 years.

The dense little pillow form it came in is fun to pull apart into wispy chunks. Yes, the spider web comparison is an obvious first choice, but I bet they could go with something ghost-related if they wanted to switch things up next year.

Fun science fact: I walked away from my plate of cotton candy remnants for a few hours, and when I returned its texture had completely transformed—from soft and malleable to crisp and brittle. I tried picking some up, and it fell apart in my fingers, almost like the way a sand castle falls apart.

Come for the candy; stay for the science.