#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!