#22 - Gemini Food Corporation Popping Candy (strawberry flavor)

With the new year in its infancy and the Chinese New Year still awaiting its arrival, I am reminded of fireworks, and of the fact that such recreational explosives were invented by the Chinese. That's the general consensus, anyhow. Wikipedia places the earliest documentation of fireworks in the time of the Tang Dynasty, during which the usual favored tea was overtaken by a powdered fruit drink (I might have made up that last bit). To this day, China is (unsurprisingly) the largest producer of fireworks in the world. The country is also the most populous in the world (between China and India, over a third of the world's population is accounted for). Combine that with a corrupt government (and thus dirt-cheap labor), and you end up with a nation that manufactures a significant portion of the world's goods.

China is often associated with subpar products, which isn't exactly fair; while plenty of terrible knockoffs originate there, so do a lot of fine items that consumers are willing to pay a premium for (like the cell phone or computer you're using at this moment, most likely).

But there are definite quality control issues (sometimes meaning neither quality nor control) in the less reputable brands, and that extends (of course) to candy and sweets.

Fireworks? Cheap knockoff candies? Is there some kind of connection there?

Why, yes, yes there is: Gemini Food Corporation's Popping Candy!

All kinds of awesome. And bombs. So many bombs.

Gemini Food Corporation was brought to life by Taiwanese immigrant Chiun Mau Tong, and all it took was a garage and $200 (because nothing brings credibility to Chinese products like being sold out of a garage). It just goes to show that hard work and dreams can go a long way.

Popping Candy is my first review of a Chinese candy (though it seems to be made for an American audience), and it's a doozy! It is an obvious ripoff of Pop Rocks, but I think we can all agree that its packaging is way, way, WAY cooler than Pop Rocks packaging could ever hope to be (sorry, Pop Rocks). Just take a look at the wicked mad bomber of a feline (that IS a cat, right?) lobbing his strawberry bombs (as opposed to cherry bombs; all roads lead back to fireworks!) with reckless abandon! Whether he terrifies or excites you, he refuses to go unnoticed! Maybe his teeth are made of gold. Maybe they've just yellowed through a life of foolish dietary choices. It doesn't matter: regardless of his dental situation, this cat is going to grab your attention.

The package quality surpassed my expectations by a fair margin. The material was lustrous and luxurious, displaying the artwork cleanly in rich, vibrant color, and there is not the slightest bit of confusion as to what sort of candy lurks within. A+ work, all around.

Oh, and it stood a menacing nine to ten inches tall, which is understandable, considering the promise/warning of twenty pouches inside.

Did I mention I liked the packaging?

Whew, glad that's been cleared up!

The back side had relatively little information, given the size of the packet, but it provided all of the necessities.

The "best before" date was pleasantly conspicuous, right under the bar code (and "Made in China" notice, in case you thought I was making that up). The section also contains the handy date format below, for those who might mistake "Nov" for a day (or worse yet, a year).

Gemini Food Corporation could not be faulted if someone were to consume a package of Popping Candy beyond its expiration date. I am fortunately well within the ideal enjoyment period, so my twenty pouches should be ripe with POP!

A look at the nutrition facts panel would provide yet another surprise.

Maybe the pouches are empty?

There is almost nothing to Popping Candy. Seriously. I mean, I thought it might be a low Calorie treat (possibly 20 Calories or so), but FIVE Calories is well below anything my imagination had come up with.

There is one gram of carbohydrates and one gram of sugar. That's it. Nothing more. You might as well just be swallowing air.

Naturally, all of the 0% markings in the "daily value" column are not to be taken at face value. They are just rounded down. But, given a 2,000-Calorie-a-day diet, one could eat 400 pouches of Popping Candy before reaching the limit (keep in mind that I am in no way endorsing such a diet, nor is that how the recommended daily values system works; as usual, my legal team is adamant about that).

Still, if you are on a strict diet, an occasional dose of Popping Candy shouldn't throw you off track (except for maybe in the literal sense if the popping is as extreme as the character on the front of the package). It's rare to find a candy that meets that qualification with such ease, so bonus points are to be awarded to Gemini Food Corp. (à la Dumbledore).

As one might expect, the ingredients list is short and sweet. It even clarifies that lactose is a milk product, in case somehow the consumer was ignorant of that fact (you did know that, right?).

Count Dracula approves.

Really, the only two ingredients of note are malic acid, which may sound scary to the unlearned, and carbon dioxide (may also sound scary to you; I don't know what irrational fears you may have), but both are produced by the human body every day, so there's nothing to worry about, right?

Perhaps the most alarming datum in the section is the "Avoid direct sunlight" warning. It sounds like something straight out of a Gremlins movie. What happens if Popping Candy is exposed to sunlight? My own irrational fears (and concern for humanity) prevent me from finding out. Gemini Food Corporation has thus far not done me any wrong, and I will have to trust that they have very good reasons for their instructions.

Then again, the advice may be aimed at me rather than the candy. As I am roughly the shade of chalk, I do sunburn easily, so avoiding direct sunlight is in my best interest. I appreciate the thoughtfulness, Mr. Chiun Mau Tong!

With the formalities being taken care of, it was time to rip into the Popping Candy package and see what what was inside...

Unfortunately, I hit my first snag. There was no easy way of opening or tearing the industrial-strength material. How could Gemini Food Corp., who had up to this point been so thorough, not supply a means by which an eager consumer could get at the twenty pouches without frustration? It might have been a test of some sort (only the worthy can enjoy Popping Candy), or I might just be an idiot. Either way, I imagine if one were to be stranded on a desert island with nothing to eat but Popping Candy, one would no doubt curse the packaging and its unobtainable contents (I suppose five Calorie pouches would hardly do one much good in such a case anyhow).

In the end, I resorted to scissors, carefully selecting the appropriate cutting location in pretense that I was performing brain surgery on the explosives-wielding cat.

Turns out his head was filled with pouches of Popping Candy. Imagine that.

The individual pouches are of a decent quality, perhaps not quite up to the standards set by the outer packaging, but superior to Pop Rocks, at any rate. They even have a tiny notch to aid in the opening (I guess if you've made it that far your worthiness has already been established). They were smaller than I'd have presumed, but, after all, they are only five Calories each, so my presumption was devoid of logic.

Instant mouth party!

Tearing open a pouch and peeking in revealed the Popping Candy itself (at last!).

They were itty-bitty crystals of sugary goodness, which very well could have been harvested from a candy mine by some mythical, magical creatures of miniature proportions (to the best of my knowledge, though, they were not).

As there was no mention of actual strawberries in the ingredients list, I knew to expect the artificial strawberry flavor candies invariably offer. That, and a physical attack on my tongue and mouth with a fury only carbon dioxide could provide.

Once again, Gemini Food Corporation proved to be a worthy adversary in the world of sweets! The Popping Candy was bursting with flavor (sweet, sweet artificial strawberry flavor; reminded me slightly of spoonfuls of Strawberry Quik, but don't ask how I know that), and the popping action was flawless, if a little startling at first (I hadn't had such a product in years). The candy was an absolute success, overtaking the more familiar Pop Rocks in every conceivable way.

Unfortunately, despite its accomplishments, I feel I have no choice but to rate the Popping Candy a 2. I could find no fault on the part of the candy itself, but it is more a novelty to me than anything, and I do not expect to buy another package for myself (at least not for a long while).

Generally speaking, my rating scale is a great help in giving a score to a particular sweet (I normally have tremendous trouble rating things), but this is one of those rare cases where it might have failed me. The Popping Candy triumphs in all it sets out to do, so, much like equating Chinese products with inferior quality, awarding an average score hardly seems fair. Nevertheless, I must stick to the guidelines I have set up, lest this whole process becomes even more meaningless than it already is.

So, if you're looking for a better alternative to Pop Rocks, I highly recommend Gemini Food Corporation's offering. Popping Candy would make for great party favors at a child's birthday party or unique treats for trick-or-treaters on Halloween, or provide a quick, low-Calorie sugar fix for a sweets fiend on a diet.

In short, this is an excellent candy, whose only shortcoming is providing a solution to a problem I don't have. But don't let the mediocre score fool you: Popping Candy is the undisputed champion of fizzing candies!

Cheap knockoff? Not in the least!

Feeling a bit carbonated myself,
The Sweets Fiend

Note: This picture was not taken in direct sunlight. Safety first!