#53 - Schuttelaar Banaapies

If the world were to hold a popularity contest for fruit, which fruit do you suppose would take home the grand prize? If you're thinking "tomato," you know your science. You also know your trivia (this specific bit of which I would wager you considered useless up to this point), because tomatoes are indeed the world's most popular fruit.

But the tomato's win would be short-lived, because the banana (the obvious runner-up) would no doubt challenge whether the tomato is actually a fruit and would (if the contest were to be held in the United States, which it probably would, being the home to this blog and all) simply cite Nix v. Hedden and claim its victory (amid great controversy) after the tomato's inevitable disqualification.

That's just the way contests go sometimes.

Anyhow, the point I'm getting at is this: people like bananas. They remove the peel and eat them au naturel. They make them into pies. They make them into pudding. They make them into bread. They put them in cereal and ice cream. They freeze them, put them on a stick, and cover them with chocolate (and who knows what else). The list goes on and on. But when I say "people like bananas," I use the term "people" in the most general sense, because there will of course be the odd individual who is not a fan of the world's most popular (according to the Supreme Court of the United States of America) fruit. In fact, I am one of those individuals (just one more instance of me failing to catch a ride on the popularity train).

Perhaps it has something to do with one of the multiple (I'm a slow learner) instances in my childhood wherein I endeavored to consume a banana that was not yet ripe, unaware that my unpeeling had left a thin, almost transparent portion of the peel still attached (it was nature's version of the wretched "second wrapper," which faithful readers of my blog know has always been a sore spot for me).

Or maybe it's just that I don't find the taste all that great. I mean, there are a lot of delightful fruits out there, and I'm not sure bananas are deserving of their preeminent position (regardless of what Justice Gray and his bunch (pun intended) might have said; but to be fair, I'm not entirely sold on tomatoes, either).

So you can hopefully understand my lack of excitement when I was presented with the subject of today's review: Schuttelaar Banaapies!

Monkeys go bananas for Schuttelaar!

Schuttelaar (as the logo states) began producing confectioneries (in the Netherlands) in 1918, though the brand was taken over by Concorp (whose Schuttelaar page proudly states, if Google Translate is to be believed, "What we feel with the heart, we make with the hands.") in 2001. My research was sadly fruitless (pun intended) regarding the date Banaapies originated. I did discover that real bananas made their real commercial debut in the United States in 1870, selling for a dime apiece (about $1.96 today, though estimates vary).

I also learned that "banaapies" apparently translates to  (not too hard to puzzle this one out) "banana pies," which is a tad bizarre, considering that the candies look remarkably like bananas and not the least bit like banana pies. The description below, though, translates to "soft meringues with banana flavor," which makes more sense.

The package design is good, though not exceptional. The color scheme, font choice, and artwork all work harmoniously to provide a consistent and wacky feel, letting the consumer know that this is not a candy to take too seriously; this is a fun, casual sort of treat. The monkeys, who embrace the sweet's lack of formality with gusto, sport caps matching the color of the Schuttelaar logo, possibly indicating that they are members of some sort of Schuttelaar fan club (I'd like to learn more about their daily lives, to be honest). One detail I really appreciate (and which the less casual observer would be sure to overlook) is that they are opening their bananas the proper way (you've been doing it wrong all along, haven't you?), from the "bottom," signifying that they are no dopes, just bright little monkeys who like to let loose once in a while with a banana (or two; I suppose it's possible bananas are the most popular fruit in the monkey world, as well).

Overall, it's a very successful job. I guess you could say it's got appeal (sorry). And the window into the bag showing the actual candies is a nice touch, too; I'd otherwise have expected little banana pies or something (thanks, Google).

So far, no slip-ups on Schuttelaar's side. I just wish I could say the same of myself, because when I looked for the "best before" date, I saw this:

Well, I've certainly not made the mistake of opening them before they were ripe...

Since I knew this candy was purchased semi-locally, I initially figured the date was listed in the American format, which would mean I had about a month to spare. But that was rather silly of me, wasn't it? Clearly the bag had been imported from the Netherlands, meaning that I was nearly six months too late.

Oh, dear.

Still, I chose to continue the review, as the dates are really more of a suggestion than a commandment. I would just need to keep my blunder in mind throughout the process.

I hoped a look at the ingredients list would lift my spirits:

Schuttelaar: 2, Sweets Fiend: 0

Although the print on the label was starting to fade (reinforcing the fact that I had neglected the candy for far too long), I could see that Banaapies contain a short list of pretty recognizable ingredients. In fact, when compared to the chemical makeup of a natural banana, the banana-flavored meringues seem much healthier, if one subscribes to the "fewer ingredients and nothing I can't pronounce" mentality. Plus, I doubt Banaapies are radioactive, which is more than I can say for regular bananas.

So I was rather interested in what the nutritional information would tell me.

Actually, I wasn't. I wasn't even slightly interested, which is why I failed to notice that the ingredients list label was slapped over the nutritional data section (to my shame, that is clearly visible in the picture above), and I continued to not notice until the bag was disposed of. Very clever and very effective deception.

It's been a while since I've done one of these reviews, and it shows. Sloppy, sloppy, sloppy. For that, I apologize. In lieu of a shot of the nutritional information (which you can always try to find online), I present you with another ingredients list image, this time in Dutch (and with a very satisfied monkey, sans tail for some reason; these monkeys get more and more fascinating with each passing moment):

Classic post-meal drowsiness.

In the unlikely case that you don't read Dutch, this one mentions that the product is made in a facility that also processes gluten. Just one more factoid that the Americanization process left behind. Frankly, I don't think the importers are giving Schuttelaar the respect they deserve (and I suppose I haven't up to this point, either). It's been a rough ride, as scandalous and disgraceful as any "fruits of the world" popularity contest.

In an effort to save face, I pushed on, tearing into the bag with all the dignity and class of a Schuttelaar monkey:

Look, banana pies!

I was met with a strong, fruity fragrance which mimicked the scent of real bananas far more than I had anticipated. This both intrigued and worried me. They couldn't taste like real bananas, could they? After all, artificial banana flavoring (which, in America, strangely enough predates actual bananas) never tastes like real bananas.

Granted, I've never been much of a fan of artificial banana flavoring, either, with the exception of Circus Peanuts (Melster's being my favorite brand, due to the clown on the package, who manages to evoke feelings of pity and fear in equal measure), which I love; I think that's in large part due to the fact that I had been eating Circus Peanuts for years before learning they were banana flavored (again, I'm a slow learner, but, in my defense, why should peanuts be expected to taste like bananas?).

Regardless, I was obligated to consume one, or more likely several, of the fruity meringues for the sake of my devoted reader(s). And so I did.

I liked it. I liked it a lot. And the more I ate, the more I liked them. Flavor-wise, Banaapies are a dead ringer for Circus Peanuts. I could definitely tell they were a bit past their prime in terms of consistency, but I didn't mind that; I often prefer my Circus Peanuts to have been aged a little anyway, and the flavor was fully intact. Seriously, if you've had Circus Peanuts, you know what you're getting with Banaapies.

So I liked them. I struggled with the rating, however; I would definitely buy another bag, but I found the size and shape to give a slightly inferior culinary (I use that term loosely) experience to that of a Circus Peanut. Given the choice between the two, I'd pick the Circus Peanuts (if Banaapies has a problem with that, they can tell it to the Supreme Court, who would probably side with the curved yellow fruit (orange you glad I didn't say banana?)).

In the end, I decided to give Schuttelaar Banaapies a solid 3. They are a frivolous, yummy candy, sure to bring joy to any banana-flavored-meringue aficionado. Sure, I may prefer a different (and more nonsensical) form factor, but Schuttelaar does not disappoint in the least. Try a bag yourself and see if you don't agree!

Bravo! Heartily recommended.

Gotta split,
The Sweets Fiend

Day-o!