#35 - Las Sevillanas Mini Oblea con Cajeta de Leche de Cabra

Once upon a time (July of 2013), I embarked on a weekend trip with my wife and her parents. My mother-in-law diligently researched the available lodgings in the general vicinity of our destination and settled on a quaint (I'm being kind here) motel harking back to the days of yore (i.e., mid-20th century). The place truly was a throwback, unfettered by modern constraints such as standards. But the two main draws to this singular humble retreat were the ridiculously low price (that wasn't a red flag at all) and the promise of a farm of sorts on the property, complete with a heaping helping of live animals!

In the end, we managed to enjoy our stay, despite having to share our rooms with rambunctious families of millipedes (I think there was a bug convention in town or something). Much of our enjoyment was due to the presence of the farm animals behind the motel, which included a couple of donkeys (one with a penchant for biting off fingers, we were warned), a variety of chickens and roosters, the mangiest group of stray cats I have ever seen (and that's saying something), and a small herd of friendly goats. The goats, in particular, were a big hit, so much so that my mother-in-law declared "Sometimes you're just in the mood for a goat."

I think we can all agree with that sentiment.

Now, to a good portion of the world, goats are a popular source of both meat and milk, but, somewhere in its short history, the United States has lost its affinity for the handy critters. While that may be changing, we Americans still outnumber our goats a hundred to one and simply don't seem to have much of a craving for goat meat.

Or goat milk, for that matter. In spite of an upward trend in goat milk production, cows still provide the vast majority of America's dairy needs, and that includes sweets and candies. Here, one doesn't really find treats utilizing goat secretions (an appetizing description, I know) outside of specialty stores.

But again, the U.S.A. is in the minority with its anti-goat bias. Cross the national border (just be sure to remember your passport), and one never knows what one might discover. Take, for example, today's subject: Las Sevillanas Mini Oblea con Cajeta de Leche de Cabra!

This packaging is about as enticing as the phrase "goat secretions."

This would be my fourth venture into the world of Mexican (or at the very least manufactured in Mexico) candy, which has thus far proven to reliably incite strong feelings one way or another. I see no reason to suspect this time will be any different, especially when Google translates "mini oblea con cajeta de leche de cabra" to "mini wafer with goat milk caramel." On the one hand, I love caramel; I mean, it's essentially melted sugar (and maybe butter and/or cream), so what's not to like? On the other hand (the left, in my mind), I have not had good luck in my limited experience with goat dairy products; I wouldn't say that all goat cheeses are bad, but I have yet to try one that didn't fit into that category.

Anyhow, the packaging of the wafer is about as dull as I've seen, with a plain tiled title/bar code graphic that seems more suited to an industrial product than a sweet. This becomes more understandable once one realizes that the samples I was sent were not necessarily meant for individual sale (something like this makes more sense), but I still feel Las Sevillanas dropped the ball on this one; any additional bit of artwork to emphasize the edibility of the product would go a long way towards making a favorable first impression.

Something has gone terribly wrong here...

The back of the wrapping is even worse, making the Lammes Candies Texas Chewie Pecan Praline packaging seem a masterpiece by comparison. It is a horrid mess of utter chaos, reminiscent of a failed mixed media art project. It's as if they didn't care at all. Not even one tiny little bit.

Hidden within the train wreck of confusion is what appears to be a "best by" date, which I have apparently missed. So there is plenty of failure to go around today.

Aside from that, I can't quite make out anything clearly. I'm guessing there is an ingredients list in there, but I would have to open up the wrapper in its entirety to know for sure.

So that's exactly what I did.

Well, I did it to the best of my ability, anyway. I defy any mortal to attempt to remove the wafer from its wrappings without a single unintentional tear. I could not do it. My wife could not do it. And I assure you, you could not do it, either (so wipe that smug smile off your face). It causes one to question the point of printing all the information on the clear plastic when it is bound to be mangled horribly in the end. I'm just not sure how well this plan was thought through.

But I did try, and this was what I managed:

Observe a  moment of silence for those ingredients lost in The Unwrapping.

The incomplete list contains unsurprising ingredients: goat milk, corn syrup, sodium bicarbonate (baking soda), and possible traces of walnuts, to name a few. There is also contact information. It's not a bad collection of data for an individual wrapper; it's just a shame one's unlikely to see it all.

I could find no mention anywhere of nutritional content, however. That's not alarming, since it was surely on the larger package from which the individual servings were taken. Fortunately, the internet can fill in the blanks for us. As might be expected, the wafers have very little nutritional value. And while 37 Calories might not seem like a lot, the wafers are so thin I'd presume one could, if not careful, down a dozen or so without giving it much thought.

But would one want to? That's the real question...

Picture probably not to scale. Probably.

Outside its nefarious trappings, the product is much more inviting. Disregarding their texture, the slim wafers remind me of tortillas, putting me in the mood for a true Mexican treat. Meanwhile, the caramel filling oozing out the sides cries out to my sweet tooth (teeth?).

But I'm not going to lie; I still had my reservations about it all. Would one of the unnoticed ingredients sabotage the treat, leading to an ordeal I'd rather forget?

Gladly, the answer was an undeniable no! While the wafers' consistency was slightly compromised because of my overdue consumption of the snack, their flavor still paired well with the creamy caramel between them. Sure, the aftertaste was a bit off from what I'm accustomed to (I suspect the goat is the reason; goats make for great scapegoats), but it was not unpleasant, just different. I even found myself thankful to have been provided two specimens to indulge in.

And I would happily eat another, too (or "another two;" either spelling would work here). I therefore am rating Las Sevillanas Mini Oblea con Cajeta de Leche de Cabra a 3. I really liked it, and, while perhaps not on my "must have" list, I could definitely see myself purchasing an entire bag at some point in the future. I'd just have to be cautious, because, as I'd feared, they would be easy to consume quickly and recklessly (that'd be about the only thing I might do quickly).

To sum it up, I guess one could say "Sometimes you're just in the mood for Las Sevillanas Mini Oblea con Cajeta de Leche de Cabra."

Rolls right off the tongue, doesn't it?

 Always a kid at heart,
The Sweets Fiend

So thin. So tasty. So likely to be the death of me.