Saturday, March 5, 2016

#26 - Pelon Peloneta (sandía con pepino)

The first time I attempted to pass my state's driving test, I found myself waiting patiently in a large room with other potential drivers until someone called my name and instructed me to "please follow Sgt. Butcher." That's right: the officer's name was Butcher. I don't recall much else about it (including what part Sgt. Butcher actually played in it). I do know that I ran over a traffic cone and failed the test, but surely that was only because I was rattled by the intimidating name (at least that's my excuse).

My second attempt never happened. My brake lights weren't working properly (it turned out to be one of many recurring problems with that particular car), and I was sent home sans license.

It wasn't until my third try that I managed to obtain a driver's license (clearly, I'm no Alastair Moffatt). Thus, I understand the importance of giving people (or countries) a second (or even third) try if initially unsuccessful. After all, one's first performance is not necessarily indicative of one's general performance (except in my case; if you see me behind the wheel of a vehicle, try to keep your distance).

So when a friend from Mexico told me that the Usher Twisted Bongos I had reviewed were not a fair representative of Mexican candy (she had never even heard of them and suggested that, though they were produced in Mexico, they were probably meant for an American audience), I was glad to give our southern friend another shot, especially if that meant free candy.

She was gracious enough to oblige, sending me a box full of items she assured me she would eat (and has eaten) herself. A cursory glance suggested she favors suckers and gummy types of candy, which are not in line with my favorites, but I look forward to giving each its moment nonetheless, starting with the Pelon Peloneta (sandía con pepino)!

All the lead your heart desires, now in a handy sucker form!

As far as I can tell, Pelon Peloneta is a spin-off product of Pelon Pelo Rico, which Wikipedia states loosely translates to the oxymoronic "Yummy-Hair Baldie" (it also mentions that the product was featured on a NASCAR car, driven by yet another driver much better than I). Google, however, suggests translating from Finnish, resulting in "Fear Pelo Rico." Given Pelon Pelo Rico's history of alarming lead content (Wikipedia says it is safe to eat these days, backing up the claim with a broken link), I'm going to follow Google's lead (pun intended) on this one and assume (probably incorrectly) that Pelo Rico is the name of the candy's mascot. I do fear him, as a matter of fact.

The packaging is encouragingly well done, both colorful and consistent in theme. I had never seen a sucker contained in such a wrapper before, and it was overall a pleasing sight. That is, until I took a closer look at "Rico." I believe he is meant to be a personified yellow chili pepper (with green war paint?) whose hair is composed of intestines (or sausages), which he wraps around half-eaten suckers. Kudos to Pelon Peloneta for coming up with such a disturbing concept and image. Who among us has not had the misfortune of discovering hair on his or her sucker? It is a heart-wrenching situation all of mankind can identify with. But is it really something of which to remind a prospective buyer? In my opinion, it paints the product in the worst possible light; it is pretty much everything that can go wrong with a sucker (including the possibility of lead poisoning) combined into one strangely cheerful image.

Needless to say, I was regretting not calling in TCR-FRESHY 5000 to help with this one. I began to seriously consider the possibility that my friend had sent this candy as a punishment for my having not liked the Twisted Bongos. But, despite my misgivings (and Google's blatant warning), I felt I had no choice but to continue with the review.

Somebody has trouble staying in the lines.

If I'm being totally honest, I did not expect to find a "best before" date on the package. I suppose that was needlessly pessimistic of me, because, lo and behold, it was prominently displayed on the back of the wrapper! The panel dimensions were poorly thought out, and the ink rubbed off a bit at the touch, but it was there, and that provided just the comfort (little though it was) I needed to carry on.

The date was a vague March of 2016 (no specific day mentioned), so I would presume it would be fine (relatively speaking) through all of March. If I'm wrong, so be it; I've come this far and I'm eating it regardless (as it is, I ate it just prior to March anyhow, as I am, like always, late in putting this review up).

The ingredients list and nutritional information were all together in a jumble of Spanish:

Yes, I certainly have doubts...

Despite all the time I've spent watching Dora the Explorer, none of the ingredients look familiar to me (about all it's taught me is which character is the Map). I will say that Spanish is one of the scarier languages to see in terms of ingredient lists, though a lot of the words look similar to my ignorant eyes. Fortunately, off to the side is a number to call for questions or comments (actually, if Google is to be believed, it translates more directly to "doubts or comments," which is far more applicable). If I spoke Spanish, that might be of some help to me.

The candy has a slightly high number of Calories (80) and carbohydrates (20g) for a sucker. I'd wager that it's due to Rico's lustrous, flowing intestine-hair. On the other hand, the product is devoid of fat or protein (less unusual for a sucker), which may or may not be a good sign. Let's say it's a good thing; I'll take what I can get at this point.

Removing the Pelon Peloneta from its wrapper revealed.... well, it wasn't pretty, I'll say that much.

Chicken liver on a stick?

My wife thought it looked like someone wrapped a Fruit Roll-Up around a sucker. She also mentioned it seemed to have already been inside someone's mouth. I thought even that was a very generous description. I feel it's only fair to mention that the candy had gotten stuck to the inside of the package at some point, but having looked up other photos online, I can say with confidence that it did not worsen the appearance in any way.

You might think I just chose the ugliest side to photograph. I didn't.

But how it looks wouldn't matter if the flavor was outstanding. I am sorry to say that it wasn't. Granted, its taste was very much in line with its smell (which my wife complained of from across the room). I almost did feel as if I were eating brain/intestinal hair of some peppery humanoid. And there was a definite kick to it, which I didn't mind at all, but my non-Mexican taste buds found the flavoring to be unsuitable for a candy.

On the plus side, the chewy consistency of the outside was on target (though I think Tootsie Pop has it right; the chewy part belongs in the middle to minimize tooth-chipping), and it was by no means awful. It just was not what I would want from a sweet (or edible object of any kind).

Now, one reason suckers rank low on my list of go-to candies is the commitment involved. They take a long time to finish, and when you aren't exactly thrilled with the flavor, it can become quite the ordeal. Still, I was determined to reach the hard center, hoping for a light at the end of the tunnel. Unfortunately, that too fell short of my expectations. The "sandía con pepino" would imply a watermelon and cucumber flavor, but whether the sucker's flavoring was off or my sense of taste had been numbed by the spicy outer layer, all I managed to glean was an unidentifiable generic flavor of the "green" variety. Meanwhile, the chewy coating's taste persisted to the end of my Pelon Peloneta and beyond. Also, rather than the clean two-layer interior look as shown in the packaging artwork, my sample had what can only be described as a "bloody mouth."

But the suggestion of gore did not end there. The "hair" had the effect of staining the stick, making it appear more and more blood-stained as I approached the candy's core. Needless to say, I did enjoy that aspect. There was almost something visceral in it all. And I did manage to complete the entire thing.

In the end, though,  I have to rate the Pelon Peloneta (sandía con pepino) a 1. It was, believe it or not, far superior to the previously tried chili mango Twisted Bongos, but, even so, I have no need to ever try another one, nor would I recommend it to anyone I care about. Having had far worse before is a poor testimonial for a product, and that's about all I can say about this one.

I will chalk it up to a cultural thing. It appears to have a decent following in Mexico and who knows where else, so maybe I'm missing something.

Or maybe I just haven't eaten enough lead yet (which may change as I delve deeper into my box of Mexican goodies).

Either way, better luck next time, Mexico. I'm not giving up on you yet!

With a pinch of sweetness (and a kick of chili-infused hair),
The Sweets Fiend

Is it just me, or does this remind anyone else of Little Shop of Horrors?