#7 - American Heritage CHOCOLATE Chocolate Stick

Earlier this month, America celebrated its independence (July 4th; I seriously hope you knew that). This was an important event, of course, transferring the power from one corrupt individual far, far away to a multitude of corrupt individuals much closer to home. I think the general idea is that some corruption will cancel out other corruption, leading to a better overall result (i.e,  the "two wrongs make a right" philosophy). One important aspect to the new government was that anyone (which in those days meant "white males") could be a part of it, regardless of his background. One could even aspire to some day become president, a principle that holds true today, assuming "one" refers to a millionaire backed by one of two political parties. It was a magical time!

Anyhow, though America has had its faults over the years, there is still plenty to love about it; much of the world's best has been poured into this "melting pot" of a nation, and the American Dream is still alive and well. Many a brave soul has fought (and too many have died) to defend our freedoms, regardless of how stupidly we sometimes choose to use those freedoms. It is a sobering truth which I'll admit my consciousness does not acknowledge nearly enough. Fortunately, there are plenty of monuments and museums to keep the struggles of history from being forgotten.

Now, I do not think anyone would describe me as a history buff (though, perhaps just "buff"). I know my fair share, and maybe a little bit more, but most of my schooling in history (as far as I can remember) consisted of memorizing dates, which I am frankly terrible at. I am more interested in people than events, really, and that extends to things of the historic nature.

That being said, several weeks ago I visited Fort Meigs with my wife and her parents. You may have never heard of Fort Meigs (I know I hadn't). It was built in 1813 to protect the Maumee River (in Ohio) during the War of 1812 (Ohio was a little late to the party, I guess), and named after the governor at the time, Return J. Meigs, Jr. Yes, his name was really Return, and yes I think it's about time that name makes a return to popularity (even I'm groaning). While the fort site was a decent strategic location, it was a total disaster in terms of comfort; I have read multiple accounts of the terrible, terrible conditions. I have not heard of such a harsh environment since the Oregon Trail (I'm referring to the computer game, of course).

To be totally honest, I didn't actually step foot in the real Fort Meigs. It was torn down not long after to build a smaller fort, then torn down again, then reconstructed in the 1970s, and then again in the early 2000s. So basically, Fort Meigs refuses to stay down, which I guess is a good thing, because I otherwise would not have ended up with my latest candy, the American Heritage CHOCOLATE Chocolate Stick:

I question the authenticity of the sticker.

This little treat of yore was purchased (from the gift shop) as a surprise (to me) by my mother-in-law (who is the exact opposite of every mother-in-law stereotype you've ever heard; I really lucked out there). It is manufactured by the Historic Division of Mars, Incorporated. I wish the text had stopped at "MARS," because the idea of extraterrestrials documenting the candy of earthlings through the ages intrigues me. Alas, it was not to be.

According to the front sticker, the chocolate stick is created using an "AUTHENTIC COLONIAL Recipe." A brief internet search reveals the recipe is from 1750. I don't know if the recipe was still in use by 1812 or not, but I have learned over the years that historical site gift shops are not too particular about how closely the gifts relate to the actual period or theme of the site itself. It's much like the way ethnic grocery stores usually include items from countries or regions that are "close enough," because who's going to notice, right? Still, I like to imagine a soldier, knee deep in the mud of Fort Meigs, finding some small solace in a chocolate stick.

Overall, the front of the packaging is underwhelming, though I'm sure that's intentional. Early colonial chocolatiers probably had more important things on their minds (such as dysentery) than eye-catching stickers. But it still does not make one excited for the chocolate contained within.

I bet they'd make lovely dinner guests.

Even the two characters featured on the sticker do not seem very enthusiastic about the prospect of ingesting a chocolate stick; the woman appears to passing judgment on the consumer, and, if I had to guess, I would say that the man is worried about some bad investments he made (probably in the Historical Division of Mars, Inc.). If your spokespeople cannot muster up a fake smile, you may have a problem.

An old ship makes an appearance on the front, too, because, hey, it's historic!

Candy, moist towelette, or... ?

If the front of the package lacks appeal, the back is far worse. I do not know why, but it reminds me of litter. I do not mean cat litter (naturally), but general refuse - something you'd find discarded on the floor, maybe in a public bathroom. It just does not have a positive effect on my appetite.

I understand that the intent of the product must be kept in mind, but my brain and my salivary glands are at odds here, and I cannot see a resolution approaching in that disagreement. If this is what passed for marketing in colonial times, it's just one more reason to be grateful I live in the present (they did, too, perhaps, but that was then).

My new email password.

As you may have noticed, there is no sign of nutritional information or a "best by" date anywhere on the wrapping. I suppose with all the diseases running rampant and whatnot, Americans from colonial times had little interest in Calories or food spoilage; they were likely to die before getting too fat, after all.

I did, however, discover some secret code under the wrapper's flap. As it has no meaning to me, I've theorized it is the email password of a Mars, Incorporated employee, printed on a sticker and carelessly misplaced on the back of my candy. If this is in fact true, and you happen to be that employee, let me know, and I will send the sticker back to you at no charge.

But that's enough about the packaging; too much time has been spent on too little. What does the chocolate stick actually look like?

You are meant to put this in your mouth. I am not kidding.

It would seem that colonial chocolate bears a striking resemblance to rusted metal. Oh, joy. With each new development, I find the chocolate stick less and less inviting.

The smell was no better. It smelled more or less (mostly more) like cocoa powder. As a child, I had a traumatic experience in which I mistook the container of cocoa powder for chocolate milk mix. You can imagine how that went (sadly, I do not have to imagine it). Don't get me wrong; I have nothing against cocoa powder. It is obviously an important ingredient in much of what I eat. But I would not want to eat a spoonful of cocoa powder.

A childhood nightmare relived.

Much to my dismay, the stick tasted like it smelled. It lacked any sweetness whatsoever (not a good quality to a sweets fiend). It was also as hard as a rock (or rusty piece of metal, if you prefer). To be blunt, it was an assault on every aspect of consumption.

Early Americans had a long list of troubles to endure, what with all the battles and frigid winters, not to mention (once again) all the disease. .I would now add chocolate to that list. If this was how their candy tasted, I shudder to think what their health food was like. This was easily the worst "treat" I've been subjected to yet, and I question the lack of a warning label on the package (unless the "AUTHENTIC COLONIAL Recipe" is meant to suffice).

Still, I feel I need to rate the American Heritage CHOCOLATE Chocolate Stick a 1 for two reasons:

1. Believe it or not, I did manage to finish it.
2.  It does have some historical significance, and it made me as glad as ever to have access to a world of modern candy.

I wouldn't recommend you try it (it might make a good gift for a frenemy), but do try to keep in mind those courageous individuals who've come before us and braved such lousy candy so we wouldn't have to.

Our debt to them is immeasurable.

Here's hoping history will stop repeating itself,
The Sweets Fiend

Candy "Cat Scan." Cats should not eat chocolate, by the way. And nobody should eat this chocolate.

#6 - Fazer Kina Wafer

I am a computer nerd. There's no point in mincing words or trying to deny it. A good portion of my childhood was spent in the glow of a monitor attached to a Commodore 64, through which the foundation of my cultural consciousness (be it what it may) was laid. My first exposure to classical music was via early computer games (I guess original music had not been invented yet), a fact that my classically-trained musician of a wife is thrilled about. I think we can all agree that Beethoven, Bach, Mozart, and all the gang intended for their orchestrations to be performed via two or three glorious channels of bleeps and bloops; the technology was just not there yet!

My computer was also my introduction to national anthems and flags, through the still-marvelous Olympics extravaganza Summer Games. In addition to teaching me that Epyx was a country (it's not, by the way) as well as a game company (it no longer is, by the way), it instilled in me a sense of empathy and camaraderie among the nations of the world. The images of the flags and melodies of the anthems have (for the most part) stayed with me lo these many years, and my affinity for foreign countries remains. I am even one of those rare individuals who appreciates the It's a Small World ride at Walt Disney World, song and all (I'll spare you a link to it)!

Unfortunately, Finland was not among the available countries in the game. I say it's unfortunate because, despite its simplicity, I cannot for the life of me remember what Finland's flag looks like for more than a day or two at a time. This is in spite of me having done a report on Finland in seventh (or maybe eighth) grade, creating a copy of the flag with construction paper (at least I think I did; as I've said, there's some sort of mental block there) for a school musical (which included "It's a Small World After All," naturally), and corresponding with a friend in Finland for several years (who taught me that "burning one's sleeves" means to get all riled up; imagine a hooligan rolling up his sleeves to engage in fisticuffs and you'll get the idea).

I generally have a vivid visual memory, so I cannot explain the Finnish flag phenomenon. Perhaps one day science will provide the solution, but in the meantime I will have to offer my apologies to the fine country, especially as my next treat hails from The Land of the Thousand Lakes.

So here it is, the Fazer Kina Wafer (New!):

So many questions, yet so few answers... It is the Lost of candy bars.

Okay, let me get this out of the way: the name is an enigma to me. The lettering and conical hat (which may or may not be racially insensitive) scream "CHINA!" That would make sense, as "Kina" is the name for China in most of Scandinavia. BUT... "Kiina" is the Finnish word for China. In Finnish, "kina" refers to a quarrel or argument (or, strangely, according to Google's translator and no one else, "market"). Could it be a play on words, a political statement on the seemingly friendly Finnish-Chinese relations (in other words, is someone burning his sleeves)? Or is it pretty much just "China Wafer," which, if I may say so, is a pretty lame (not to mention nondescript) name for candy? It is a mystery to me, which, like the baffling Finnish flag conundrum, will remain unsolved for the foreseeable future.

Aside from that, the package is decent. It's colorful, the spots mimic the texture of the candy inside, and the "New!" leaves no room for questions about the newness of the Kina Wafer. I don't know how well it would stand out against competition, but it's not a failure. Or maybe it is. I'm still confused.

Is this an ingredient list? A ransom note? A binding contract? All are equally plausible.

The back of the packaging contains an ingredient list so exhaustive that I don't believe anyone has ever read the entire thing. Go ahead, try it yourself! It may be multiple languages, or it may be utter nonsense. Either way, it's too much for my simple brain to bear after the whole name thing. I have been defeated. Well played, Fazer!

But wait, what is this under the flap?

This makes a little more sense. Just a little.

It's nice of Fazer to include an English list, inconspicuous though it was. Most of the ingredients are familiar; two standouts are the horrifyingly named rapeseed and the mysterious E 500 (may be of some relation to TCR-FRESHY 5000). Other than that, it's pretty typical stuff, but I get the feeling I'd rather not know the particulars of the Kina Wafer manufacturing process.

The side of the bar contains both a "best before" date and a production date (always nice to know that).
 

The candy bar equivalent to a tombstone?

You may think that "080615" means August 6th, in which case I'm well within the time limit and there is cause for rejoicing. But you would be wrong. Like most of the world (aside from America, where we prefer to do everything our own way), Frazer is using the day/month/year format, meaning the actual date is June 8th, and I have once again failed to consume my candy in a timely manner. Oops. This also suggests that the average life of a Kina Wafer is nine months, which just happens to coincide with the average human gestation period. I am not suggesting that the two are in any way related (I certainly hope not), but it may help one to better judge just how long (or short) nine months is, minimizing the all-too-real risk of his or her candy going bad.

So much fat in such a thin bar!

The nutrition facts also hide beneath the flap, and probably with good reason: the bar is a whopping 525 Calories! It's a good-sized bar, though, so the Calorie count, while high, is not in the realm of ridiculousness. It is, however, definitely something to keep in mind while contemplating consumption (edit: my bad, the 525 Calories is for 100g; the bar is about half of that).

One thing I have not mentioned so far is that my specific bar seemed to be broken a little off from the halfway mark. Whether it happened during shipping or was intentional (a kina at the Fazer factory?), I can not ascertain; it is just one more sad statistic in the world of candy.

Opening the wrapper revealed the underbelly of the Kina Wafer with its lamentable crack:

Kina Wafer, we hardly knew ye.

I also became aware that the chocolate had melted some in the heat of the summer. Was there no end to the suffering this treat would have to endure? I resolved to put it out of its misery as quickly as possible.

The top of the bar exhibited prior melting, as well, muddling the desired look, but the bits that were less affected showed a sensible texture. Under normal circumstances, I would expect it to have a certain appeal.

Chocolate crime scene photo.

I could also see that the Kina Wafer was divided into four breakable segments, which eased my mind a little regarding the previously mentioned crack. This makes rationing the Kina Wafer more manageable and provides a convenient way to share, if one is so inclined. It also reminded me of a Kit Kat, and the similarity did not end there: it actually tasted very much like a Kit Kat, to boot! The chocolate was slightly different (and the thinness of the bar makes for a different chocolate-to-wafer ratio), but if I had been told this was a Kit Kat product, I would not have been the least bit surprised.

I enjoyed the Kina Wafer. I shared a piece with my wife, and she enjoyed it, too (though she prefers a Kit Kat). Seriously, what's not to like about a chocolate-covered wafer bar? It wouldn't normally be my first choice when seeking out candy, but if I were to purchase more than one item (or selection was limited), it could very well make the cut.

Therefore, I give the Fazer Kina Wafer a 3. It's probably at the lower end of the 3's, but that's okay. I liked it (you may very well like it, too), and that's all there is to it.

So thank you, Finland, for your crunchy (and thought-provoking) wafer bar treat. And sorry again about the flag thing. I really don't know what's up with that.

'Til we sweet again,
The Sweets Fiend

Wafer strata. I feel like a geologist!