#33 - Klik Kariot-Pillows

As a sweets fiend, I am introduced to an extensive assortment of candies (insert a sincere thank you to all my generous benefactors here). There is a whole lot of sugary goodness out there, and it is easy for a perfectly fine product to get lost in the sea of options. Thus, manufacturers must find creative ways to allow their offerings to stand out. One simple method is to model a candy's appearance after some intriguing object or animal. I am a fan of said method. In fact, readers who follow my blog with any respectable amount of commitment (and I truly feel all my readers should be committed) might grow wary of my incessant babbling on the topic.

Be forewarned: there will be no respite from the issue on this day.

So I continue...

I have eaten many a candy with more than a passing resemblance to something else, from hippos, to ice cream cones, to just about everything in between. Sometimes they even had a pleasing taste! But in every case (successful or not), I appreciated the attempt.

It does cause one to wonder, however, which designs didn't make the cut. Is there a landfill somewhere overflowing with sketches of candy based on items or creatures that were, for one reason or another, just too awful (or bland) to consider? I mean, surely the bar must be set somewhere, right?

I would have thought so, but then I was introduced to today's specimen: Klik Kariot-Pillows!

I've finally found what my life has lacked: miniature chocolate pillows!

If I were to be tasked with suggesting the worst possible source of inspiration for a chocolate treat, I don't think I could best pillows. Seriously, what could be more dull (I welcome your answers)? Granted, the name may have been inspired by the candy's appearance rather than the other way around, but I'm not sure that improves the situation any; the fact remains that a pillow makes for a baffling muse when it comes to a product of this sort. But, then, Klik Kariot-Pillows is a product of Israel ("Under the supervision of the Rabbinate of Safad & the Orthodox council of Jerusalem Eda Charedith."). Maybe (just maybe, mind you), to a people who've endured hardships (not to mention more than their fair share of prejudice) for thousands of years, there is no thought as enticing as a peaceful nap.

Who knows? Certainly not me.

Lame idea aside, the packaging isn't so bad. The chocolatey brown of the photographed "pillows" works nicely against the blue backdrop, and the "burst of light" graphic adds some much needed oomph to the lackluster concept. Unfortunately, the Klik logo (which is bright and informal, if a bit amateurish) and artist's rendition of the candy lack harmony with the more realistic background. Pick a style and stick with it, please; either would do fine on its own, but together they clash in a battle not unlike those peppering Jewish history. Perhaps a pair of contrary designers was assigned to the packaging, and the end result was a forced lose-lose compromise. I believe there's some talent there, but it missed its mark this time. Such a pity.

Oh, and, by the way, though my internet research on the meaning of "kariot" has not been entirely conclusive (Google guesses it is Samoan for "kariot." Thanks, Google), sources suggest it might translate to "pillows," which would essentially mean the candy is named "Pillows-Pillows." From the bottom of my heart, I hope that it's true, because nothing livens up monotony like redundancy! And just in case there's any doubt that Klik would be so redundant, the front of the package actually says (albeit in a very small font): "Picture for illustration only."

Additionally, my investigation revealed that Kariot is also the name of a popular cereal in Israel (with a commercial that's really heavy on the pillow motif), upon which our candy in question seems to be based. That's right, folks: the pillow theme is so successful in Israel that it has spawned at least one spinoff. I am completely dumbfounded and beginning to doubt everything I thought I knew about sweets.

But, lest this discovery lead me down a deep, dark path to depression, I am going to alter my trajectory and resume examination of the packaging...

Generally, I would discuss the "best before" date at this point. The problem is, I'm not sure where it is. Hidden behind the bottom flap in tiny, tiny (oh, so tiny!) letters is the phrase "Best before:," but nothing is beside it. However, if one follows a straight line halfway across the packaging, one finds this:

I have no idea what these numbers are about. Probably something to do with pillows.

Is there a date in there somewhere? If so, it would take a better man than I to identify it. My wife thought it might be the "16:08," which is not a bad guess (whether that makes her a better man than I is up for discussion). If so, the date is vague enough that I may or may not have been too late when I first opened the bag. I don't know anymore; I'm living in a world where pillows are appetizing, after all!

 Fortunately, the nutrition facts panel is clear as day:

For a more satisfying experience, imagine Morgan Freeman reading the ingredients list aloud.

The bag comes in at a whopping 360 Calories, 140 of which are from fat, so this may be the sort of candy to enjoy through multiple sessions. But at least there's some fiber in there; wouldn't want my bowels getting all plugged up with chocolate "pillows," now would I?

All in all, it's pretty standard, which is comforting (like a pillow?) considering how things have been going thus far.

The ingredients list is noteworthy only for its size (much like my stomach). There are no particularly interesting ingredients (though if you find pillows interesting, you may disagree), but there sure is a jolly good bunch of them! Who'd have thought chocolate pillows would prove to be so complicated? Due to the use of such a wide variety of components, the allergen information is also of a considerable length, with half a dozen entries to be aware of. If I ever find myself involved in allergen-based warfare (hey, anything is possible), Klik Kariot-Pillows will be high on my list of "weapons."

As far as I know, I have no allergies to worry about, so I'm free to eat Kariot-Pillows with impunity.

Well, then, let's get to it!

Need reasonably-priced throw pillows for your doll house? These just might do the trick!

My initial thought upon opening the bag was that the aroma of chocolate filling the air was more potent than I'd expected. It was not necessarily a bad thing; it just caught me off guard.

The pieces did an acceptable job of representing miniature pillows, though the texture was noticeably off; they looked as if they had come from a war zone (which, given Israel's present situation, is understandable), with dents and dimples aplenty!

But I have to admit, there was something mildly comforting about the shape of the candy. Maybe I was too quick to judge the whole "pillow" thing. And maybe one bite of the sweet morsels would hook me for life.

Sadly, that was not the case. Based on the package artwork, I expected a creamy sort of filling in my Klik Kariot-Pillows. There was none to be found (which begs the question: what was the picture an illustration of/for?). There was a thin layer of what I think was the nougat (thin enough that biting the outside properly to get a picture was difficult), but the candies were hollow. I've never been to Israel, so I couldn't say how they make their pillows, but I'm fairly certain it's customary to fill them with something other than air. Frankly, I can't help feeling cheated. Why would you do this to me, Klik? Why?

On the plus side, the pieces had a nice crunch to them, and the chocolate flavor was decent. But the thin inner coating left a less-than-pleasant aftertaste (the hazelnut may have been partly to blame) lingering in my mouth. It might have been fine had it not been so persistent, but it would just not let up (this wouldn't be the first time hazelnut has done that to me).

Overall, I was underwhelmed. One might even say eating pillows had left me feeling a little down in the mouth (feel free to groan). Therefore, I rate Klik Kariot-Pillows a mediocre 2. They aren't without merit, and I wouldn't mind accepting a piece or two (or even more) from a friend, but I see no compelling reason to expend energy in seeking them out.

Sorry Klik, but I still do not understand the appeal of memorializing the pillow in chocolate. I cannot wrap my head around it. I just do not get it (I hope that was redundant enough for you). Better luck next time, though. Maybe pick a more exciting muse, something outside of the bedding department. The results might surprise you.

As for me, I think I'm ready for a nap now.

I can't imagine why.

With a hearty "Shalom,"
The Sweets Fiend

Picture for illustration only.