Welp. Shocker of the year: They’re grumpy again. About the hearts.
Reese’s has, again, responded well enough, but I’m really at this point just preparing myself for the inevitable scorn that will likely be headed Reese’s Eggs’ way in 6 weeks or so.
In other candy bar news, a London woman wants a lifetime supply of Kit Kats after she bit into a defective one that had no wafers inside.
While we here at BOaP admire her boldness and generally support lifetime supplies of candy bars for whatever reason, we cannot endorse this venture. Because it is stupid.
(Thanks to Georgia Bar for the tip!)
No fewer than four independent people sent me a link to stories about people being mad about the shape of this year’s crop of Reese’s Trees, the cups’ Christmas seasonal shape varietal similar to the pumpkins and eggs of Halloween and Easter, respectively.
It seems the detail on the sides is not up to snuff.
That’s it. Apparently it resembles a turd. Because the edges aren’t jaggy enough.
Bruh. Continue reading
Which would have been outstanding.
But upon first bite [Ed. note: /or upon first reading of the box, had that been something I’d done], I discovered that there was also a thin ribbon of actual peanut butter dispersed throughout the ice cream bar.
Game done changed.
Nah, game the same; it just got more fierce.
This is a simple, subtle and altogether wonderful ice cream novelty for anybody who’s a fan of peanut butter ribbons.
Summer’s always too short! You turn around and it’s gone! However did this happen? #lovesummer
As a chronic sweater and autumn’s #1 fan, I’ve never felt particularly aligned with the widespread sadness that comes the end of the 3-4 hottest months of the year. But, as I’ve gotten older and better understood the despair that comes along with hoofing it to work on a 3-degree day in March, I’ve grown to appreciate the various joys of summer.
Beer gardens. The smell of sunscreen. Shorts, tank tops, sundresses and seersucker. Iced coffee. One of my two annual dental checkups.
Frozen candy bars.
They really aren’t as satisfying during the rest of the year, are they? I have fond memories of gnawing on frozen Snickers bars with my dad while playing golf on family vacation, or of throwing melting, near-death Reese’s from the freezer and not waiting for them to thaw. That shit doesn’t fly in November.
To celebrate the last week of summer, I’m throwing [Ed. note: Holding? Declaring? Embarking upon?] Breaking Off A Piece’s newest theme week: Frozen Week.
To kick things off, I wanted to take a serious damn look at frozen candy bars. Earlier in the month, one of my favorite Twitter follows — Grantland’s Bill Barnwell — posed a great question.
Which candy gains the most by being frozen before eating?
— Bill Barnwell (@billbarnwell) August 6, 2015
I replied to him, but given my self-assigned authority on the subject, I felt pretty silly not having a more scienticically informed answer.
We met for dinner at Honey Butter Fried Chicken, them bringing their smiles and me bringing a large, insulated bag with frozen and room-temperatured versions of the five most popular answers to Barnwell’s question.
After the meal [Ed. note: Splendid, always. If you’re in Chicago, pay them a visit.], I laid out my wares on our pic-a-nic table and took the picture you see at the top of this post. As a brisk wind picked up and we drew a small amount of attention (Alex/Abby: “She wants to give you money for your basketball team.), we decided to pack things up and head back to the #BSMT (my small, garden-level den of an apartment) for the actual taste-test, which would feature a bite of room-temp candy bar and then a bite of frozen, to determine:
1) Which candy bar improved the most in its frozen state?
2) Which candy bar tasted the best frozen?
Up first …
Charleston Chew Minis
[Ed. note: I fully intended to buy full-sized Charleston Chews, but the closest Walgreens, CVS and grocery stores didn’t carry it and I wasn’t going to drive to the next town. If that makes me a half-assed candy bar blogger than so be it.]
Abby: “These have the texture of deflated packing peanuts. Or deflated marshmallows.”
Alex: “There is … very little flavor.”
Me: I’d grown up enjoying Charleston Chews, but only when frozen (bias revealed and admitted). The minis are a more palatable eating experience, but at room temperature both the full- and mini-sized are … laborious to chew.
Alex: “Hmm … There’s a pop that’s pretty deliberate, then it sort of melts into a gummi.” “It crunches, then it sticks to your teeth.”
Abby: [Ed. note: Unintelligible notes holy wow my handwriting is bad. Sorry, Abby.] … “These melt; the others didn’t.”
Me: Damn, that crunch makes all the difference. They’re definitely a little blander than I remember, but the stark difference from frozen to room temperature is so welcome. They almost shatter upon first bite, then melt into a comfortable chewiness until only the last remnants stick to your teeth. I’m a fan.
Alex: Room temperature
Me: Frozen Continue reading
That’s right, friends.
My answer when somebody asks, “How do you eat your Reese’s?”?
“In the smallest form possible.”
As sliders, Munchkins and Bagel Bites have scientifically proven, often times it can be more fun to eat a lot of little versions of something instead of one big version.
I haven’t felt that way when it comes to the new bag-o-mini bars trend; I typically skew towards the “not bad but I’d rather just eat the big one” persuasion.
But Reese’s Minis are the best.
It has most to do with the higher-than-regular chocolate-to-peanut butter ratio (the same ratio that made the Reese’s Egg a standout, albeit in the opposite way). Due to that chocolate, it’s a little more creamy in the way of mouthfeel without sacrificing its peanut-buttery foil, which I think provides a superior tasting experience. I also suspect they’re even better when they’re frozen, but I will confirm that later this summer.
I’m also fairly certain I enjoy them more because I enjoy them longer: Minis are easier to take your time with. I lay waste to the big cups within seconds; it’s hard to put down a half-bitten cup of you’re on your feet — you keep it in your hand, then the chocolate starts to melt on your fingers, and you’re probably wearing a white shirt and you don’t want to risk it, so you finish the rest of the cup before you have a chance to really savor the first bite. The Minis, though, are easy enough to pop one-by-one on a stroll through a warm spring drizzle.
They’re easier to share, too. Nobody wants to see a chocolate thumbprint on the split-in-half regular size cup they were just handed; with Minis, you can just shake one or two out and pass. And if there’s one thing we here at Breaking Off A Piece support, it’s an easy-sharing candy bar.
When it comes to peanut butter cup, give me a mini over a regular.
Everyday All day long.
[Ed. note: Okay, you got me. I just threw that last sentence in there because this song is on fire and I want an entire album of hip-hop songs with Rod Stewart samples:
That Mark Ronson guy who just popped up all of the sudden seems like he might be game to get it done. Hopefully he’s a reader. If so, Mark, make this happen. And thank you for reading. And sorry that I said you just popped up all of the sudden I’m sure you have had a long career and worked tirelessly to attain the level of success you are now experiencing. And thank you for whatever you did on the song above because it has made my week.]
This isn’t necessarily new; they’re often the 7 or 8 seed and politely get destroyed in the first round.
But this is a new year. We have Giannis now.
May this be the first of many adventures with Playoff Giannis.
– This is a really good candy bar. I don’t know why it never took off.
– A less messy, more portable and infinitely more nougaty version of the Reese’s Peanut Butter Cup.
You see, in this world, there are two kinds of people, my friends: Those who bite the ears off the chocolate bunny first, and everybody else. Continue reading