Sometimes the variations are successful (M&M's have had a fairly good track record, I'd say). Generally speaking, though, the phrase "leave well enough alone" rings true; the original product is usually superior, so that the new variant becomes nothing but a disappointment by comparison (sort of like when one's second child falls short of the first's accomplishments).
But that's not necessarily a bad thing. It is the marketing equivalent of Clarence from "It's a Wonderful Life," providing a jarring yet enlightening glimpse into a world where one's favorite sweets are mere shadows of their former selves. I shudder just thinking about it (or maybe that's just a sugar rush)!
Now, if you follow my escapades with regularity (if you have trouble with regularity, try eating more fiber), you may recall I tried the Marabou Japp HazelNut bar back in August and was underwhelmed. However, that was a variant of the standard Japp bar, and I expect the unadulterated form would prove to be tastier fare, having no coattails to ride on.
It is therefore with an unhealthy optimism that I review the original and pure Marabou Japp bar!
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| "Hooked on Phonics" won't help you here. |
Right off the bat, the black of the packaging (even with its metallic sheen) is in stark contrast to the gold of the Japp HazelNut. This brings the red ribbon graphic more into the forefront. The combination seems to imply a sense of femininity and sophistication/elegance; in other words, it's everything that I'm not. It brings to mind rhythmic gymnastics (who knew Winnie the Pooh was an announcer at the 2011 Olympics?), and, while I feel fairly confident that I could pull off a rockin' ribbon routine, I have never been described as sophisticated nor elegant, nor have my tastes. So maybe the Japp bar isn't for me...
On the other hand, the font and candy bar graphic have a more casual, easy-going feel So the color scheme and artwork seem at odds with each other. And, if you've forgotten (or never knew in the first place), "Japp" (pronounced "yap") means "yep," (still a terrible name, if you ask me), which is possibly the most informal of affirmations. Perhaps the Japp bar is meant to come across as accessible, but with a less obvious, more sophisticated side. That's how it's come across to me, at least, so, if that was the intent, mission accomplished. In fact, the side of the wrapper says "Mjölkchoklad fylld med mjuk chokladmaräng och kola," which could very well mean just that! Or I could just be making stuff up. I've been known to do that now and then.
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| So... much... negative... space... |
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| No horror vacui here! |
The nutritional panel (hidden under the back flap) includes additional empty space (I'm not sure the package designers were finished when the candy went into production), as well as information for both a 100g serving and a 30g serving, neither of which the bar is, of course. That would be too convenient for the Swedes! Fortunately, it's easy to calculate 60g from 30g, so the Japp comes in at a whopping 270 Calories. It's a good-sized bar, though, even taking into account its thinness compared to other candy bars. Overall, there's nothing too shocking here; it's full of fat and sugar, like any decent sweet. Mmm, boy!
But where does all that fat and sugar come from? A look at the ingredients list should answer that (and other questions):
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| You don't have to be able to read this to know it sounds delicious. |
The list appears to be in two languages, neither of which I can actually read, but there are enough words with enough familiarity to give an idea of what the Japp bar holds in store. To begin with, one can expect milk chocolate, caramel, and nougat. Any candy based upon that trio is on the right track in my book!
At this point, things are really looking up. What could go wrong?
I opened the wrapper with increasing anticipation, and...
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| Another victim of climate change! |
Incorrect (and inconsistent) temperature was the likely culprit, but its crimes will, as always, go unpunished; temperature has diplomatic immunity or something.
The front of the bar was no better, and possibly even worse. If candy zombies were a thing (and why wouldn't they be?), I would expect them to look very much like my Japp bar. It was almost frightening to imagine what it might do to me once it had taken up residence in my body.
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| Well, isn't this appetizing? |
And, wouldn't you know it, it was!
It was very much like a Milky Way bar, but its thinner design allows for an improved caramel-to-nougat ratio. Nicely done, Marabou! It also faintly reminded me (and less than faintly reminded my wife) of a Charleston Chew.
A cross between a better Milky Way and a Charleston Chew? Sounds like a winner to me! Unfortunately, it does not quite reach the highest of echelons. The concept is sound, and the taste was pleasant enough, but something just seemed to be holding it back. My guess would be it's hidden somewhere in the incomprehensible section of the ingredients list.
I would also guess it was a conscious decision in balancing cost and quality. The Japp bar is more of a "pick up while in line at the store" than a "purchase for a special occasion" type of candy. As the wrapper suggests, the Japp's sophisticated side lurks in the background. But it's there. It's a fine candy bar, one I wouldn't mind exchanging a reasonable sum of money for.
Thus, I rate the Marabou Japp an admirable 3. If you're a fan of Milky Way chocolate bars, you'd most likely be a fan of Japp, as well. I'd suggest storing yours in a proper environment, however. Trust me.
But seriously, Marabou, I still don't understand how the name came to be (maybe that's for the best). Tasty candy bar. Stupid, stupid name.
Yep.
With that, I'm off to practice my rhythmic gymnastics routine. Keep an eye out for me in next year's Olympics (gotta dream big, right?)!
With visions of sugarplums dancing through my head (sans ribbons),
The Sweets Fiend
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| A delectable mess of milk chocolate, caramel, nougat, and... some other stuff. |
