I know, I know. Just last week, I said we had caught up. And here I am, one week later, with another post. I did tell you we'd have sporadic updates, didn't I?
A few days ago, I brought in some chocolate-covered macadamia nuts. They'd been given to me as a gift. I don't actually like Macadamia nuts. In fact, I dislike most nuts most of the time. But that's a tale for a different blog.
So I did what I always do when someone gives me food I don't like: I brought it to work to share with the rest of the desk and/or the locusts in the warehouse (they'll eat anything).
I had no idea that Dasha had never had Macadamia nuts.
The box sat on the desk for about half an hour before I heard, "Okay, let's see what this is all about." And then there was the telltale rustling of the packaging being removed. Her usual dubious look followed, before she took a bite.
"This is really good," she said, "It's probably very expensive, huh?"
I honestly don't know - a quick check on Amazon told me that it depends on the Macadamia nuts in question. Some of them are quite pricey. In some cases, it borders on the ridiculous. Looking closely, it looks like the chocolate covering brings down the price - nuts alone are around $25/lb.
While I was typing this out, she had another comment to add:
"If you think these won't be gone in an hour, you would be wrong."
The verdict: Win.
Thursday, December 15, 2011
Thursday, December 8, 2011
Caught Up
And, with that last post, we have caught up with reality. We have introduced Dasha to a number of uniquely American things - and we hope to continue doing so, but the search for them is becoming more difficult.
New American Things now transitions from a weekly schedule to an occasional schedule.
If you have any suggestions for things that may be new to Dasha, please feel free to e-mail me or comment on this post and I'll check with Dasha to see if it's new to her or not.
As Dasha is introduced to new things, I will post them - but that will be less and less frequent.
Feel free to keep checking back, and thank you for reading to this point.
New American Things now transitions from a weekly schedule to an occasional schedule.
If you have any suggestions for things that may be new to Dasha, please feel free to e-mail me or comment on this post and I'll check with Dasha to see if it's new to her or not.
As Dasha is introduced to new things, I will post them - but that will be less and less frequent.
Feel free to keep checking back, and thank you for reading to this point.
Thursday, December 1, 2011
Chocolate Peanut Butter Banana Bread
This isn't so much an American thing as it is an Eric thing. See, my wife has this recipe for a chocolate peanut butter banana bread. And yes, you read that correctly. It's a chocolate bread which contains both peanut butter and bananas.
A few weeks back, her office had a bake-off. She didn't win (I think she was robbed), but she did bake an extra loaf for my office. And I was kind enough to share (which I usually don't do when something is that good).
As we know, peanut butter is hit-or-miss outside of North America. It just hasn't caught on. So anything with the flavor of peanut butter is a risk when sharing with Dasha.
Now, I know she has a sweet tooth. And I know she likes chocolate. So I figured the bread was a safe bet, and I cut a slice for Dasha.
She poked at it a bit. "It seems very soft." The way my wife makes it, it's very moist. It's hard not to be, when cooking with bananas. Unless you screw something up. She then sniffed at it, before breaking a small piece off and tasting it. "It's good!"
"Well of course it is," I told her, "My wife made it." My wife - for the record - is an excellent cook.
"You should tell your wife to cook more often."
I am in complete agreement with this. I should also cook more often. But that's beside the point.
A few minutes passed, and then, "Can I have the recipe?"
That was fairly easily done. I keep the recipe reasonably accessible, so I printed it out and gave it to her. "Thank you for this. I think I'm going to make it."
The verdict? WIN. Not only did she like it, but if she makes it at home, I'm likely to get more. That's a win for all concerned.
A few weeks back, her office had a bake-off. She didn't win (I think she was robbed), but she did bake an extra loaf for my office. And I was kind enough to share (which I usually don't do when something is that good).
As we know, peanut butter is hit-or-miss outside of North America. It just hasn't caught on. So anything with the flavor of peanut butter is a risk when sharing with Dasha.
Now, I know she has a sweet tooth. And I know she likes chocolate. So I figured the bread was a safe bet, and I cut a slice for Dasha.
She poked at it a bit. "It seems very soft." The way my wife makes it, it's very moist. It's hard not to be, when cooking with bananas. Unless you screw something up. She then sniffed at it, before breaking a small piece off and tasting it. "It's good!"
"Well of course it is," I told her, "My wife made it." My wife - for the record - is an excellent cook.
"You should tell your wife to cook more often."
I am in complete agreement with this. I should also cook more often. But that's beside the point.
A few minutes passed, and then, "Can I have the recipe?"
That was fairly easily done. I keep the recipe reasonably accessible, so I printed it out and gave it to her. "Thank you for this. I think I'm going to make it."
The verdict? WIN. Not only did she like it, but if she makes it at home, I'm likely to get more. That's a win for all concerned.
Thursday, November 24, 2011
Caramel Apples
A local Halloween tradition is that of the Caramel Apple. Someone at my wife's office brought some in to share, and my wife grabbed an extra.
"If you don't like it," she told me, "I'm sure you'll know someone who will."
So I did what I've been doing whenever I'm presented with something that is part my my upbringing: I brought it in to work for Dasha.
"What is this?" She held the apple up in its plastic shell, turning it left and right, examining it closely.
"It's a caramel apple. It's just an apple that's been dipped in caramel."
It bears mentioning that this was a grocery store apple. It wasn't really dipped - someone had wrapped a thin sheet of caramel around the apple and then dipped it in nuts. The caramel hadn't even been softened first, so it did look a bit sketchy. Because the best caramel apples are dipped in softened caramel. Or else the caramel sheets are softened after they are applied, which causes the caramel to harden. It's a bit harder to eat, but tastes much better.
"How do you eat it?"
"It's on a stick. You just hold it by the stick and eat the apple."
"I'm not hungry right now. I will take it home and share with my husband."
The next morning, we asked her what she though.
"I liked the apple." She put an odd emphasis on that last word.
"So you didn't like the caramel?"
"I don't know - it just didn't taste like real caramel."
I'll grant that. It just means I need to track down a good caramel apple for her at some point.
The verdict: Fail, but that may be the caramel on this particular sample.
"If you don't like it," she told me, "I'm sure you'll know someone who will."
So I did what I've been doing whenever I'm presented with something that is part my my upbringing: I brought it in to work for Dasha.
"What is this?" She held the apple up in its plastic shell, turning it left and right, examining it closely.
"It's a caramel apple. It's just an apple that's been dipped in caramel."
It bears mentioning that this was a grocery store apple. It wasn't really dipped - someone had wrapped a thin sheet of caramel around the apple and then dipped it in nuts. The caramel hadn't even been softened first, so it did look a bit sketchy. Because the best caramel apples are dipped in softened caramel. Or else the caramel sheets are softened after they are applied, which causes the caramel to harden. It's a bit harder to eat, but tastes much better.
"How do you eat it?"
"It's on a stick. You just hold it by the stick and eat the apple."
"I'm not hungry right now. I will take it home and share with my husband."
The next morning, we asked her what she though.
"I liked the apple." She put an odd emphasis on that last word.
"So you didn't like the caramel?"
"I don't know - it just didn't taste like real caramel."
I'll grant that. It just means I need to track down a good caramel apple for her at some point.
The verdict: Fail, but that may be the caramel on this particular sample.
Thursday, November 17, 2011
Chocolate-Covered Peanut Butter Pretzel Bites
I have a sweet tooth. I like junk food.
One of my favorite things is chocolate-covered peanut butter-filled pretzel bites. I don't get them very often, because I have a bad habit of eating the entire bag in one sitting.
I figured Dasha has a sweet tooth, and I would share with her. That way, I would eat fewer of them and (in general), I would be healthier.
She started with her usual question, "What is this?"
I explained that it was a pretzel that had been filled with peanut butter and then dipped in chocolate. I know that peanut butter is one of those flavors that isn't popular world-wide. In fact, my parents tell stories about how they used to give peanut butter to Greeks when we lived in Athens. Because people who haven't grown up eating it often have difficulties, it's funny to watch. "In return," my parents would tell us as part of the story, "they would give us this fruit that you're supposed to eat, rind and all. It was so bitter ... " Apparently it was funny to watch Americans trying to eat it. But that's beside the point.
I wasn't sure if Dasha had any experience with peanut butter, or what her thoughts on peanut butter were. After her reaction to Pocky, I was 90% sure she would like chocolate-dipped pretzels. She likes salty and sweet both (but I don't know if she likes them together - I'll have to find out sometime). I had no idea how the peanut butter would impact her liking of this one. It was a genuine gamble.
She took one of the bites, and tentatively poked at it. "So it's just a pretzel inside?"
"With peanut butter."
"That's it?" She bit half of one off, and then wrinkled her nose. "I don't think so," she said, "It's not for me."
At least the verdict was fast.
The verdict: FAIL.
One of my favorite things is chocolate-covered peanut butter-filled pretzel bites. I don't get them very often, because I have a bad habit of eating the entire bag in one sitting.
I figured Dasha has a sweet tooth, and I would share with her. That way, I would eat fewer of them and (in general), I would be healthier.
She started with her usual question, "What is this?"
I explained that it was a pretzel that had been filled with peanut butter and then dipped in chocolate. I know that peanut butter is one of those flavors that isn't popular world-wide. In fact, my parents tell stories about how they used to give peanut butter to Greeks when we lived in Athens. Because people who haven't grown up eating it often have difficulties, it's funny to watch. "In return," my parents would tell us as part of the story, "they would give us this fruit that you're supposed to eat, rind and all. It was so bitter ... " Apparently it was funny to watch Americans trying to eat it. But that's beside the point.
I wasn't sure if Dasha had any experience with peanut butter, or what her thoughts on peanut butter were. After her reaction to Pocky, I was 90% sure she would like chocolate-dipped pretzels. She likes salty and sweet both (but I don't know if she likes them together - I'll have to find out sometime). I had no idea how the peanut butter would impact her liking of this one. It was a genuine gamble.
She took one of the bites, and tentatively poked at it. "So it's just a pretzel inside?"
"With peanut butter."
"That's it?" She bit half of one off, and then wrinkled her nose. "I don't think so," she said, "It's not for me."
At least the verdict was fast.
The verdict: FAIL.
Thursday, November 10, 2011
Follow-Up #2: Twinkies vs. Tastykakes
I have a friend on the East Coast named Geoff. Geoff is one of my favorite people to deal with, and was one of the first people out there to find this blog (I honestly don't remember if I sent him a link or if he stumbled across it on his own).
When he saw the post on Twinkies and Ding Dongs, he asked me why I hadn't given her Tastykakes.
My e-mailed response was something along the lines of "Tastywhat?"
It was explained to me that Tastykakes are what the East Coast eats instead of Twinkies. They are apparently fresher and better than Twinkies. Or so Geoff told me - and I do tend to trust him.
"You'll see," he told me.
A few days later, I received a UPS package containing a tin. None of the three of us on the order desk had ever heard of them. So I shared with Dasha and J. And my wife. And a friend visiting from California ...
There is a lot of cake in the tin!
I really liked them. So did my wife. The peanut-butter KandyKakes especially hit the spot for me, and I tried several of the others.
Dasha tried a few different things from the tin - she liked the chocolate cupcakes, and didn't like the sponge cakes. So they came out about the same as the Twinkies and Ding Dongs.
I ... I forgot to ask J. what she thought. Ooops.
So all in all, it comes out a Win for me - I found a new snack food that I like. It was mixed for Dasha.
Thanks, Geoff. I appreciate your broadening our horizons.
When he saw the post on Twinkies and Ding Dongs, he asked me why I hadn't given her Tastykakes.
My e-mailed response was something along the lines of "Tastywhat?"
It was explained to me that Tastykakes are what the East Coast eats instead of Twinkies. They are apparently fresher and better than Twinkies. Or so Geoff told me - and I do tend to trust him.
"You'll see," he told me.
A few days later, I received a UPS package containing a tin. None of the three of us on the order desk had ever heard of them. So I shared with Dasha and J. And my wife. And a friend visiting from California ...
There is a lot of cake in the tin!
I really liked them. So did my wife. The peanut-butter KandyKakes especially hit the spot for me, and I tried several of the others.
Dasha tried a few different things from the tin - she liked the chocolate cupcakes, and didn't like the sponge cakes. So they came out about the same as the Twinkies and Ding Dongs.
I ... I forgot to ask J. what she thought. Ooops.
So all in all, it comes out a Win for me - I found a new snack food that I like. It was mixed for Dasha.
Thanks, Geoff. I appreciate your broadening our horizons.
Thursday, November 3, 2011
Arnold Palmers
I drink a lot of tea. I just like the stuff. I tend to drink it iced with sugar.
I learned recently that iced tea is very much an American thing - the rest of the world tends to only drink tea hot and the idea of iced tea is bizarre to most of them.
Occasionally, I'll drink an Arnold Palmer. Because I like a good lemonade, too. Iced tea is very American, so any drink which contains it becomes more obscure to non-Americans.
A few weeks ago, Dasha asked me if I was obsessed with tea - I think that's probably a fair question. I don't drink much soda anymore, so most of what I drink at work is tea. At the time, I had a canned Arnold Palmer in front of me.
"I may be a bit obsessed," I said, "but this one isn't just tea. Did you want to try some?"
"I don't know," she said, "What else is in it?"
"Lemonade. Do you like Lemonade?"
After a bit of hesitation, she responded in the affirmative.
It cracks me up, sometimes, because she's so very willing to try all these new-to-her things, even though we've had some definite misses. Of course, a few of the hits have been significant ...
I grabbed one of our shot-sized cups and poured a bit of my drink into it. "If you want more than this, let me know - I have more in the fridge."
She took a small sip, and it was immediately followed by the "Do Not Want" expression.
"I take it we have another miss?"
"I don't think I like it. It's weird, though. Because you can taste the lemonade at the same time as you can taste the iced tea, and I like lemonade."
She tried another sip. She actually finished off the small glass. "Now I am sure," she informed me, "I don't like this."
Like everything so far, I thanked her for trying it.
The verdict: Fail. Apparently the iced tea-ness overwhelmed the lemonadity. And yes, I know that those aren't actual words.
I learned recently that iced tea is very much an American thing - the rest of the world tends to only drink tea hot and the idea of iced tea is bizarre to most of them.
Occasionally, I'll drink an Arnold Palmer. Because I like a good lemonade, too. Iced tea is very American, so any drink which contains it becomes more obscure to non-Americans.
A few weeks ago, Dasha asked me if I was obsessed with tea - I think that's probably a fair question. I don't drink much soda anymore, so most of what I drink at work is tea. At the time, I had a canned Arnold Palmer in front of me.
"I may be a bit obsessed," I said, "but this one isn't just tea. Did you want to try some?"
"I don't know," she said, "What else is in it?"
"Lemonade. Do you like Lemonade?"
After a bit of hesitation, she responded in the affirmative.
It cracks me up, sometimes, because she's so very willing to try all these new-to-her things, even though we've had some definite misses. Of course, a few of the hits have been significant ...
I grabbed one of our shot-sized cups and poured a bit of my drink into it. "If you want more than this, let me know - I have more in the fridge."
She took a small sip, and it was immediately followed by the "Do Not Want" expression.
"I take it we have another miss?"
"I don't think I like it. It's weird, though. Because you can taste the lemonade at the same time as you can taste the iced tea, and I like lemonade."
She tried another sip. She actually finished off the small glass. "Now I am sure," she informed me, "I don't like this."
Like everything so far, I thanked her for trying it.
The verdict: Fail. Apparently the iced tea-ness overwhelmed the lemonadity. And yes, I know that those aren't actual words.
Thursday, October 27, 2011
New Russian Thing: Kvass
Following along with my sampling of a variety of Russian candies, Dasha brought in something else for us to try: Kvass.
Kvass is one of the most popular beverages on the planet. It's extremely popular in Eastern Europe, throughout the former Soviet Union, and even into parts of Northern China. Like most beverages that are so widespread, there are thousands of varieties, so when I say, "Kvass is ... " what I mean is "most kvass is ... "
Keep that in mind.
It's often compared to beer. In fact, the best kvass is apparently produced by breweries, and it's often slightly alcoholic (hovering around a three or four proof, which is 1.5-2% alcohol by volume). Kvass is actually made with bread.
Yes, really.
When making kvass, you first dehydrate some stale bread (Rye seems to be the most popular variety). Then you drop it into boiling water. Then you strain it and let it cool before adding yeast, sugar, and a bit more water. And other ingredients - mint, juice, raisins, and berries seem to be popular additions.
Then it is strained and cooled and strained and cooled. And then it sits for a few days. And then it's filtered and refrigerated and then drunk.
I was afraid I wouldn't like it - and I didn't want to waste it because it's expensive. So I poured a small amount into a glass the size of a shot glass. It was amber in color, and smelled ... like fresh bread. It was actually a bit disconcerting to smell, because I can't think of anything else that smells like bread and looks like tea.
I took a careful sip - Dasha has a sense of humor, so I wasn't sure if she was pranking me or not. My first thought was, "It tastes like bread!"
In fact, it's rather disconcertingly like drinking bread. Don't get me wrong - it's tasty - but the bread flavor just feels weird coming from a beverage. It tasted like fresh-baked bread.
I'll drink it again if it's offered, but I don't think it's something I'll purchase for myself. I guess that makes the verdict a tentative win on this one.
Kvass is one of the most popular beverages on the planet. It's extremely popular in Eastern Europe, throughout the former Soviet Union, and even into parts of Northern China. Like most beverages that are so widespread, there are thousands of varieties, so when I say, "Kvass is ... " what I mean is "most kvass is ... "
Keep that in mind.
It's often compared to beer. In fact, the best kvass is apparently produced by breweries, and it's often slightly alcoholic (hovering around a three or four proof, which is 1.5-2% alcohol by volume). Kvass is actually made with bread.
Yes, really.
When making kvass, you first dehydrate some stale bread (Rye seems to be the most popular variety). Then you drop it into boiling water. Then you strain it and let it cool before adding yeast, sugar, and a bit more water. And other ingredients - mint, juice, raisins, and berries seem to be popular additions.
Then it is strained and cooled and strained and cooled. And then it sits for a few days. And then it's filtered and refrigerated and then drunk.
I was afraid I wouldn't like it - and I didn't want to waste it because it's expensive. So I poured a small amount into a glass the size of a shot glass. It was amber in color, and smelled ... like fresh bread. It was actually a bit disconcerting to smell, because I can't think of anything else that smells like bread and looks like tea.
I took a careful sip - Dasha has a sense of humor, so I wasn't sure if she was pranking me or not. My first thought was, "It tastes like bread!"
In fact, it's rather disconcertingly like drinking bread. Don't get me wrong - it's tasty - but the bread flavor just feels weird coming from a beverage. It tasted like fresh-baked bread.
I'll drink it again if it's offered, but I don't think it's something I'll purchase for myself. I guess that makes the verdict a tentative win on this one.
Thursday, October 20, 2011
Pocky
I know, I know. Pocky is about as American as Log Cabins or Apple Pie (look it up). But it's big here in the US. Well, among geeks and those who have been introduced to it.
It's available in most grocery stores here in the greater Seattle area.
What is it? It's basically just a chocolate-dipped breadstick.
Yes. Really. But you need to try it to understand just why it's so good.
A few weeks back, I brought some into the office, and Dasha saw me crunching away. "What is that?"
The only possible answer to that is, of course, "It's Pocky. Want some?"
I handed her one of them, and she eyed it warily, "What is this?"
"Pocky. It's actually a Japanese treat, but it's easily available here and I really like it. Taste it."
She sniffed at it, and then took a tentative bite. She does that a lot - it's like she doesn't trust me or something. One wonders why.
"Is this just bread inside?"
"Basically, yes."
Another tentative bite, "It's good! I think I like this!"
Now, a box of Pocky often includes multiple plastic packages, each of which have a number of Pocky. So I just gave her the remainder of that package. "I need to get some of this for me! What is it called, again?"
And I showed her the package (which she photographed so she could find it in the stores).
Verdict? Win. I'm definitely getting better at finding things she'll like.
It's available in most grocery stores here in the greater Seattle area.
What is it? It's basically just a chocolate-dipped breadstick.
Yes. Really. But you need to try it to understand just why it's so good.
A few weeks back, I brought some into the office, and Dasha saw me crunching away. "What is that?"
The only possible answer to that is, of course, "It's Pocky. Want some?"
I handed her one of them, and she eyed it warily, "What is this?"
"Pocky. It's actually a Japanese treat, but it's easily available here and I really like it. Taste it."
She sniffed at it, and then took a tentative bite. She does that a lot - it's like she doesn't trust me or something. One wonders why.
"Is this just bread inside?"
"Basically, yes."
Another tentative bite, "It's good! I think I like this!"
Now, a box of Pocky often includes multiple plastic packages, each of which have a number of Pocky. So I just gave her the remainder of that package. "I need to get some of this for me! What is it called, again?"
And I showed her the package (which she photographed so she could find it in the stores).
Verdict? Win. I'm definitely getting better at finding things she'll like.
Thursday, October 13, 2011
Dairy Queen Blizzards
Right next door to the Arby's we occasionally visit, there is a Dairy Queen.
Now, Dasha used to work for McDonald's, so I figured she'd had a McFlurry.
"No," she said, "I never got interested in trying one."
I've learned that she is really hit-or-miss on dairy products. She doesn't like sour cream, and isn't even willing to try French Onion Dip. Ranch Dressing is hit-or-miss (usually a miss). Apparently the McFlurry looked a bit too much like sour cream.
I'm mostly kidding, of course - she does know the difference between sour cream and soft serve. I don't know why she didn't try a McFlurry, given her sweet tooth.
Either way, when we described Dairy Queen's signature item (the Blizzard), we told her that it's "kind of like a McFlurry, but better."
"Okay," she said, "I will try one the next time you go."
The next question was, of course, which flavor to get for her. DQ offers a dizzying array of them in four categories. Rather than guess (like I did with the Slurpees), I decided to let her decide.
She selected the Strawberry Cheesequake. In my opinion, it's not the strongest introduction to Blizzards, but it's not bad.
So that Friday, I headed to Arby's for lunch and grabbed Blizzards on my way back.
"It's really good," she said after a few bites. Or should that be sips? "Why didn't you show me this before?"
I figured that'd be the end of it, but, when we came in on Monday, she had something further to say to us. “So, you know that … um … that Blizzard? I tried three more this weekend. And I called my sister and I told her, and my husband tried one and he liked it and … “
Yep. We've created a monster.
Win.
Now, Dasha used to work for McDonald's, so I figured she'd had a McFlurry.
"No," she said, "I never got interested in trying one."
I've learned that she is really hit-or-miss on dairy products. She doesn't like sour cream, and isn't even willing to try French Onion Dip. Ranch Dressing is hit-or-miss (usually a miss). Apparently the McFlurry looked a bit too much like sour cream.
I'm mostly kidding, of course - she does know the difference between sour cream and soft serve. I don't know why she didn't try a McFlurry, given her sweet tooth.
Either way, when we described Dairy Queen's signature item (the Blizzard), we told her that it's "kind of like a McFlurry, but better."
"Okay," she said, "I will try one the next time you go."
The next question was, of course, which flavor to get for her. DQ offers a dizzying array of them in four categories. Rather than guess (like I did with the Slurpees), I decided to let her decide.
She selected the Strawberry Cheesequake. In my opinion, it's not the strongest introduction to Blizzards, but it's not bad.
So that Friday, I headed to Arby's for lunch and grabbed Blizzards on my way back.
"It's really good," she said after a few bites. Or should that be sips? "Why didn't you show me this before?"
I figured that'd be the end of it, but, when we came in on Monday, she had something further to say to us. “So, you know that … um … that Blizzard? I tried three more this weekend. And I called my sister and I told her, and my husband tried one and he liked it and … “
Yep. We've created a monster.
Win.
Thursday, October 6, 2011
New Russian Thing: Candy
As Ii grabbed a likely-looking first victim, I asked her, "What's this one?"
"It is sorta, um, like Honey." Now, one of my favorite candies is Bit-O-Honey. Or, more accurately, one of my favorites when I was younger was Bit-O-Honey. I was the only kid I knew who liked them.
It ... it was a less-chewy Bit-O-Honey. Much less chewy - it crumbled into my mouth as I ate it. But the taste was close.
I pointed at another one with cherries printed on the label. "What's this one? It looks like a Cherry Cordial!"
"It ... um ... it has cherry alcohol in it." Sure enough, it was a cherry cordial. And not a bad one, either - but I've never been found of cherry liquor.
"What about these - are they different flavors of the same thing?" I pointed at three with similar wrappers.
"No, these are the same flavor. Those are different," she said, pointing at a different set of three.
So, naturally, I had to know what the flavors were. "This one is almond," she said, "and this one ... it is a berry flavor. I don't think you have it." The third was milk chocolate - it translated as "Cream Chocolate" when she used her translation website of choice.
The berry turned out to be bilberry - which is reported to be similar in flavor to blueberry. As I'm not fond of blueberries (yes, I'm picky), I set that one aside for my wife to try, and I popped the almond one open.
The flavor was fine, but I wasn't fond of the texture. It was chocolate wrapped around an Almond paste - but it was almost more gelatin than paste. Somewhere between toothpaste and Jell-O.
The last one I tried had a cute picture of a cow on the cover. The candy itself was roughly football-shaped. "It's a chocolate cream," she told me. It was chocolate, all right. With a wafery-crunch that reminded me a bit of a Crunch Bar. And the filling was chocolate frosting in terms of flavor and texture.
It was really good.
All in all, I found a number things I like in the mix, and I got to try something new.
I call it a Win.
Thursday, September 29, 2011
Follow-Up #1: Slurpees
A few months back, I bought a Slurpee for Dasha, and it was too sweet. A week or two ago, I went back to 7-Eleven again.
Damn its convenient closeness!
This time, I bought for her a Coke Slurpee.
And, you know, one for myself. Because, as long as I'm there ...
"What is this?"
"It's another Slurpee. I think you'll like this one better."
A tentative sip, with that fear-filled expression I've come to expect when inflicting new things on Dasha. "You're right! I do like it! This is very good."
I'm starting to learn Dasha's preferences in terms of sweetness. I think that - if I don't run out of things to introduce to her - I'll have more Wins as time goes by.
She has, by the way, purchased several Slurpees since. All Coke.
Damn its convenient closeness!
This time, I bought for her a Coke Slurpee.
And, you know, one for myself. Because, as long as I'm there ...
"What is this?"
"It's another Slurpee. I think you'll like this one better."
A tentative sip, with that fear-filled expression I've come to expect when inflicting new things on Dasha. "You're right! I do like it! This is very good."
I'm starting to learn Dasha's preferences in terms of sweetness. I think that - if I don't run out of things to introduce to her - I'll have more Wins as time goes by.
She has, by the way, purchased several Slurpees since. All Coke.
Thursday, September 22, 2011
Root Beer and Root Beer Floats
I know I focus a lot on food, here. A large part of this is because I need to be able to demonstrate these American things here at work - and there aren't a lot of non-Food things I can easily bring in to work that she hasn't already experienced.
A few weeks back, I had mentioned that if it kept getting this warm, I would have to bring in Root Beer Floats.
I've been conditioned over the last few months - every time I mention something that is an American Institution, I glance at Dasha - just to see if she knows what it is we're talking about. And there aren't many things as American as Root Beer. Well, depending on whose version of the history you listen to.
My favorite root beer is Bulldog Root Beer, but it's too creamy to be good in a float - floats require a slightly less smooth root beer.
The two best root beers for floats (in my opinion) are A&W and Henry Weinhard's. They're both root beers with a slight edge to their flavor that is perfectly mellowed by the vanilla ice cream. Both of them are not bad for the drinking, either (even if they're not my favorites).
The first thing I did was put a bottle of Weinhard's root beer in front of her.
"Am I allowed to drink this?" Dasha isn't 21, yet. And Weinhard's comes in a dark brown bottle that looks like a beer bottle. And, of course, the word "Beer" appears prominently on the label.
"It's not alcoholic," I told her. In fact, alcoholic root beers are hard to find these days.
I cracked it open for her. She then sniffed at the bottle. "We have a medicine that smells exactly like this." A quick swig. A quick "DO NOT WANT" expression.
Then: "Does it have cinnamon in it?"
Most Root Beer these days derive the bulk of their flavor from the Sasparilla plant. In fact, the biggest difference between the various brands (so far as I can tell) is the type and ratio of vanilla that they add to the mix.
This, of course, is before you add the ice cream.
Now, I've seen people make floats with a huge variety of ice creams. It's the easiest part of the whole thing. For Dasha's introduction to floats, I just grabbed the cheapest bucket of ice cream I could find. Seriously. As long as you're using vanilla ice cream (not French Vanilla, not Vanilla Bean - just plain old boring Vanilla Ice Cream), you're golden. Seriously.
After a skeptical sip: "It's still too strong and smelly, but with ice cream, it's just perfect."
"It's really good. Very good, actually."
At the end of the day, I sent her home with some root beer so she could introduce her husband to the delight of the float.
Verdict: Win on the floats, Fail on the root beer itself.
A few weeks back, I had mentioned that if it kept getting this warm, I would have to bring in Root Beer Floats.
I've been conditioned over the last few months - every time I mention something that is an American Institution, I glance at Dasha - just to see if she knows what it is we're talking about. And there aren't many things as American as Root Beer. Well, depending on whose version of the history you listen to.
My favorite root beer is Bulldog Root Beer, but it's too creamy to be good in a float - floats require a slightly less smooth root beer.
The two best root beers for floats (in my opinion) are A&W and Henry Weinhard's. They're both root beers with a slight edge to their flavor that is perfectly mellowed by the vanilla ice cream. Both of them are not bad for the drinking, either (even if they're not my favorites).
The first thing I did was put a bottle of Weinhard's root beer in front of her.
"Am I allowed to drink this?" Dasha isn't 21, yet. And Weinhard's comes in a dark brown bottle that looks like a beer bottle. And, of course, the word "Beer" appears prominently on the label.
"It's not alcoholic," I told her. In fact, alcoholic root beers are hard to find these days.
I cracked it open for her. She then sniffed at the bottle. "We have a medicine that smells exactly like this." A quick swig. A quick "DO NOT WANT" expression.
Then: "Does it have cinnamon in it?"
Most Root Beer these days derive the bulk of their flavor from the Sasparilla plant. In fact, the biggest difference between the various brands (so far as I can tell) is the type and ratio of vanilla that they add to the mix.
This, of course, is before you add the ice cream.
Now, I've seen people make floats with a huge variety of ice creams. It's the easiest part of the whole thing. For Dasha's introduction to floats, I just grabbed the cheapest bucket of ice cream I could find. Seriously. As long as you're using vanilla ice cream (not French Vanilla, not Vanilla Bean - just plain old boring Vanilla Ice Cream), you're golden. Seriously.
After a skeptical sip: "It's still too strong and smelly, but with ice cream, it's just perfect."
"It's really good. Very good, actually."
At the end of the day, I sent her home with some root beer so she could introduce her husband to the delight of the float.
Verdict: Win on the floats, Fail on the root beer itself.
Thursday, September 15, 2011
Ghostbusters, Star Wars, Indiana Jones and the Raiders of the Lost Ark
Here at work, we have a TV. And a DVD player.
This means that we often bring in films we like and watch those. Occasionally, I have to suffer through a cheesy romantic comedy. Or a stupid comedy.
One day, however, we had three films that were a huge part of my growing up that Dasha had never even heard of. All three of these are (in part) pulp-descended. They're definitely part of any geek's outlook these days.
Here are her comments on each:
Ghostbusters:
"It's not a scary movie, is it? I don't like scary movies!"
This means that we often bring in films we like and watch those. Occasionally, I have to suffer through a cheesy romantic comedy. Or a stupid comedy.
One day, however, we had three films that were a huge part of my growing up that Dasha had never even heard of. All three of these are (in part) pulp-descended. They're definitely part of any geek's outlook these days.
Here are her comments on each:
Ghostbusters:
"It's not a scary movie, is it? I don't like scary movies!"
"It's very entertaining."
Star Wars (and by Star Wars, I mean Star Wars Episode IV: A New Hope - the original theatrical release):
"It's not the best film ever, but it is interesting."
She looked pretty bored throughout, though.
Indiana Jones and the Raiders of the Lost Ark:
"I'm not sure I understand what is happening. Why do they talk so much?" A fair question, to be perfectly honest. As pulpy as the film is, it really does have a bit too much dialogue.
"This part is very exciting." It was the chase through the market.
"Why did they kill the monkey? He was cute!"
Verdict: A very mixed bag.
Thursday, September 8, 2011
Kool-Aid
Where I work, we occasionally talk about "drinking the Kool-Aid." I suspect it's a common discussion at various workplaces.
Most workplaces, however, don't have a teammate who has never even heard of Kool-Aid.
For those two or three of you who don't know what it is, let me quote Wikipedia:
It's a small packet of powder. You take two quarts of water, one cup of sugar, and this flavoring package. Mix it all together and drink. Or chill first. Either way, it's good stuff. Depending on the flavor.
It's marginally better for you than soda, and it's a lot less expensive.
My favorite flavor is Black Cherry, so we're nearly always out of it at Chez Gamethyme. And the water here at the office is only marginally drinkable (we boil it before drinking it).
This means that introducing Dasha to Kool-Aid would require some special effort, because I'd have to bring water from elsewhere. I was early to work one morning, and so took a quick trip to the nearby (and dangerously convenient) 7-Eleven. One quart of water is about one liter (almost exactly one liter, in fact).
I'd previously brought in a 2-Quart pitcher and a cup of sugar. And a packet of Strawberry. It's not as good as Black Cherry, but it's one of the drinkable Red flavors (and everyone needs to start with Red Kool-Aid).
Once Dasha arrived, I showed her the packet, and mixed everything up. "You need," I told her, "To drink it out of an actual glass for the full effect."
Her first comment: "I don't think I like this."
But she kept trying. "It's not soda. I don't know what it is."
"It reminds me of ... you know the Jelly?"
"Jell-O?"
"Yes. With the water?"
"Yes."
All in all, she only had about half of a glass.
Result: Fail. I should probably have waited until I had Black Cherry on hand - Strawberry isn't a good starter flavor. I may have shot myself in the foot to test this, however.
Most workplaces, however, don't have a teammate who has never even heard of Kool-Aid.
For those two or three of you who don't know what it is, let me quote Wikipedia:
Kool-Aid is a brand of flavored drink mix owned by the Kraft Foods Company.Hrm. That doesn't help much, does it?
It's a small packet of powder. You take two quarts of water, one cup of sugar, and this flavoring package. Mix it all together and drink. Or chill first. Either way, it's good stuff. Depending on the flavor.
It's marginally better for you than soda, and it's a lot less expensive.
My favorite flavor is Black Cherry, so we're nearly always out of it at Chez Gamethyme. And the water here at the office is only marginally drinkable (we boil it before drinking it).
This means that introducing Dasha to Kool-Aid would require some special effort, because I'd have to bring water from elsewhere. I was early to work one morning, and so took a quick trip to the nearby (and dangerously convenient) 7-Eleven. One quart of water is about one liter (almost exactly one liter, in fact).
I'd previously brought in a 2-Quart pitcher and a cup of sugar. And a packet of Strawberry. It's not as good as Black Cherry, but it's one of the drinkable Red flavors (and everyone needs to start with Red Kool-Aid).
Once Dasha arrived, I showed her the packet, and mixed everything up. "You need," I told her, "To drink it out of an actual glass for the full effect."
Her first comment: "I don't think I like this."
But she kept trying. "It's not soda. I don't know what it is."
"It reminds me of ... you know the Jelly?"
"Jell-O?"
"Yes. With the water?"
"Yes."
All in all, she only had about half of a glass.
Result: Fail. I should probably have waited until I had Black Cherry on hand - Strawberry isn't a good starter flavor. I may have shot myself in the foot to test this, however.
Thursday, September 1, 2011
Mallo Cups
Mallo Cups are one of those things I like. A lot. More than I really should.
I have a huge weakness for marshmallows. And a good whipped marshmallow is a joy and a delight. Dip it in chocolate, and I'm half-way to Paradise.
A Mallo Cup is whipped marshmallow, topped with coconut, and then dipped in chocolate. They're pretty straightforward.
Mallo Cups are the only time I will willingly eat coconuts, as I dislike both their flavor and their texture.
They're also not readily available in the Seattle area.
My wife ordered some for me as a gift - she found them on Amazon.com.
I've spent the last four months or so working through the case I received, but I still have a small stash in my desk. And some more in the freezer at home.
I keep a lot of food in my desk - granola bars, an Alligator stick, Breakfast On The Go, some popcorn ... and, of course, some Mallo Cups. I tell every new hire that, if they get hungry, they can help themselves to any food in the drawer. Except the Mallo Cups. Those are mine.
Dasha had a case of the munchies a few days ago, and nothing in the drawer looked both familiar and good to her, so I offered her a package of Mallo Cups.
Now, there are two Mallo Cups in every package - they're sized and shaped similarly to Reese's Peanut Butter Cups. So I offered her a package.
"What is it?"
"It's chocolate-covered marshmallow."
"I like chocolate," she said.
After a bite: "This is good. It's really sweet."
I know she liked it because she ate the second one.
Verdict: Success. She hasn't had any more than that first package, though, so I'm going to mark it as a 'moderate success.'
I have a huge weakness for marshmallows. And a good whipped marshmallow is a joy and a delight. Dip it in chocolate, and I'm half-way to Paradise.
A Mallo Cup is whipped marshmallow, topped with coconut, and then dipped in chocolate. They're pretty straightforward.
Mallo Cups are the only time I will willingly eat coconuts, as I dislike both their flavor and their texture.
They're also not readily available in the Seattle area.
My wife ordered some for me as a gift - she found them on Amazon.com.
I've spent the last four months or so working through the case I received, but I still have a small stash in my desk. And some more in the freezer at home.
I keep a lot of food in my desk - granola bars, an Alligator stick, Breakfast On The Go, some popcorn ... and, of course, some Mallo Cups. I tell every new hire that, if they get hungry, they can help themselves to any food in the drawer. Except the Mallo Cups. Those are mine.
Dasha had a case of the munchies a few days ago, and nothing in the drawer looked both familiar and good to her, so I offered her a package of Mallo Cups.
Now, there are two Mallo Cups in every package - they're sized and shaped similarly to Reese's Peanut Butter Cups. So I offered her a package.
"What is it?"
"It's chocolate-covered marshmallow."
"I like chocolate," she said.
After a bite: "This is good. It's really sweet."
I know she liked it because she ate the second one.
Verdict: Success. She hasn't had any more than that first package, though, so I'm going to mark it as a 'moderate success.'
Thursday, August 25, 2011
Crisp Chicken Burritos
I used to work for a company called Taco Time. Actually, I worked for two companies by that name, but one of them is relevant, here.
See, when I say "Taco Time," most of you are thinking of Taco Time International, Inc. (unless they've changed names again ... ). And I did work for them, for about six months. I also spent nearly four years working for Accord Taco Time, Inc., which split from the other company in (IIRC) the mid-eighties. I don't know all the details, nor do I care to. Both companies have similar menus with (for the most part) similar food.
The Taco Times I'll be referencing in this post are the Accord Taco Times, because they are in Western Washington (and the other Taco Time isn't).
What you need to know is this: After working for Taco Time for as long as I did, I still crave the food. Especially certain menu items. Most notably the Crisp Chicken Burrito. Which may or may not be available at the other Taco Time (which is why the long prelude - I didn't want to get your hopes up if you live outside of Western Washington).
The burrito itself is pretty simple: You take some of Taco Time's chicken (which is good all by itself), mix it with cream cheese, some green chilis, and a couple of spices. Then wrap it in a flour tortilla and deep-fry it.
For me, it's paradise in a paper sleeve.
And there's a Taco Time about three blocks from my office.
I eat there fairly regularly, and grabbed an extra burrito. They're small enough that I figured if Dasha didn't like it, it'd be more for me.
As it turns out, she liked it a great deal.
"Mmmm! This is really good!"
A few days later, we were talking about food and she told me that she'd taken her husband to Taco Time. For the Crisp Chicken Burritos. "They were really tasty, and reminded me of something we had in Moldova."
Verdict: Success. These may even be a bigger success than the Ding Dongs ...
See, when I say "Taco Time," most of you are thinking of Taco Time International, Inc. (unless they've changed names again ... ). And I did work for them, for about six months. I also spent nearly four years working for Accord Taco Time, Inc., which split from the other company in (IIRC) the mid-eighties. I don't know all the details, nor do I care to. Both companies have similar menus with (for the most part) similar food.
The Taco Times I'll be referencing in this post are the Accord Taco Times, because they are in Western Washington (and the other Taco Time isn't).
What you need to know is this: After working for Taco Time for as long as I did, I still crave the food. Especially certain menu items. Most notably the Crisp Chicken Burrito. Which may or may not be available at the other Taco Time (which is why the long prelude - I didn't want to get your hopes up if you live outside of Western Washington).
The burrito itself is pretty simple: You take some of Taco Time's chicken (which is good all by itself), mix it with cream cheese, some green chilis, and a couple of spices. Then wrap it in a flour tortilla and deep-fry it.
For me, it's paradise in a paper sleeve.
And there's a Taco Time about three blocks from my office.
I eat there fairly regularly, and grabbed an extra burrito. They're small enough that I figured if Dasha didn't like it, it'd be more for me.
As it turns out, she liked it a great deal.
"Mmmm! This is really good!"
A few days later, we were talking about food and she told me that she'd taken her husband to Taco Time. For the Crisp Chicken Burritos. "They were really tasty, and reminded me of something we had in Moldova."
Verdict: Success. These may even be a bigger success than the Ding Dongs ...
Thursday, August 18, 2011
Twinkies and Ding Dongs
7-Eleven, at times, is too close. See, I could stand to lose some weight. And it's difficult with so much temptation so close to the office.
As you may have noticed, I have a bit of a sweet tooth. Half-way out the door one morning, I stuck my head back in and asked, "Dasha, have you ever had a Twinkie?"
"What's that?"
"What about a Ding Dong?"
"I don't know what you are talking about!"
Twinkies, for those two or three of you who don't know, are sponge cake stuffed with frosting. They're very sweet, and have a reputation for being more chemical than food. People used to regularly joke that the shelf life of a Twinkie was long enough that the cockroaches who succeeded mankind as rulers of the planet would have plenty of them to dine upon. They are invariably soft and moist and dangerously tasty.
Ding Dongs are chocolate-covered chocolate cupcakes which are filled with the same filling as Twinkies.
Neither one is particularly healthy.
That cinched it for me: This week, Dasha would try both of them. Since they're sold in convenient 2-packs, that meant one of each for me as well.
When I returned with the bounty, I suggested that she try the Twinkie first - if you're going to dislike one of them, it's usually the Twinkie. The Ding Dong is chocolate, and only a few weirdos (including my brother) dislike chocolate.
The Twinkie met with a lukewarm response. "What is this?" When she tasted it, "This would be better if it had fruit inside or something. It's too sweet. Maybe if it had some chocolate?"
For a short time, I vaguely remember that Hostess made fruit-filled Twinkies. They were good. Or, more accurately, better than the plain Twinkies.
She gave me the second Twinkie that was in the pack.
The Ding Dongs went over much better: "That's more like it." and "Mmm. This one's actually good." The Ding Dong disappeared pretty quickly - I didn't know she could move that fast!
After this reaction, I didn't expect to have the second one for myself, but she said to me, "Are you trying to make me fat?" And then forced it on me. So I had to eat it.
I had no choice.
So the final verdicts:
Twinkie: FAIL
Ding Dong: WIN. So very much win. I think it's the biggest win thus far ...
As you may have noticed, I have a bit of a sweet tooth. Half-way out the door one morning, I stuck my head back in and asked, "Dasha, have you ever had a Twinkie?"
"What's that?"
"What about a Ding Dong?"
"I don't know what you are talking about!"
Twinkies, for those two or three of you who don't know, are sponge cake stuffed with frosting. They're very sweet, and have a reputation for being more chemical than food. People used to regularly joke that the shelf life of a Twinkie was long enough that the cockroaches who succeeded mankind as rulers of the planet would have plenty of them to dine upon. They are invariably soft and moist and dangerously tasty.
Ding Dongs are chocolate-covered chocolate cupcakes which are filled with the same filling as Twinkies.
Neither one is particularly healthy.
That cinched it for me: This week, Dasha would try both of them. Since they're sold in convenient 2-packs, that meant one of each for me as well.
When I returned with the bounty, I suggested that she try the Twinkie first - if you're going to dislike one of them, it's usually the Twinkie. The Ding Dong is chocolate, and only a few weirdos (including my brother) dislike chocolate.
The Twinkie met with a lukewarm response. "What is this?" When she tasted it, "This would be better if it had fruit inside or something. It's too sweet. Maybe if it had some chocolate?"
For a short time, I vaguely remember that Hostess made fruit-filled Twinkies. They were good. Or, more accurately, better than the plain Twinkies.
She gave me the second Twinkie that was in the pack.
The Ding Dongs went over much better: "That's more like it." and "Mmm. This one's actually good." The Ding Dong disappeared pretty quickly - I didn't know she could move that fast!
After this reaction, I didn't expect to have the second one for myself, but she said to me, "Are you trying to make me fat?" And then forced it on me. So I had to eat it.
I had no choice.
So the final verdicts:
Twinkie: FAIL
Ding Dong: WIN. So very much win. I think it's the biggest win thus far ...
Thursday, August 11, 2011
Orange Julius
A mainstay in American shopping malls is Orange Julius. Their signature drink includes both orange juice and ice cream and a number of other ingredients - if you poke around online, you can find dozens of recipes for it, all with varying degrees of accuracy.
We learned that she hadn't tried these one day when J was heading to the mall and asked if we wanted anything. I was my usual decisive self.
"Pretzels! Or Teriyaki Chicken! Or a Sandwich! Or ... No ... no ... Orange Julius! I want an Orange Julius!" Yes, those exclamation points are warranted. I was a bit wired and unusually excitable that day.
"What's an Orange Julius?"
Many of these New Things are triggered for us when Dasha asks us, "What is a ... ?" And we know we have a good one when J and I both lock up for a second in surprise.
This particular lockup also settled what I would be getting from the mall that afternoon.
"J," I said, "I think I'd like an Orange Julius today. Given the warm weather, it sounds like just the thing!"
Half an hour later, there was a Julius on my desk, and one on Dasha's desk.
Dasha eyed it warily when was placed in front of her, and she took a cautious sip. Her expression then turned to that of someone who was expecting honey and had oatmeal instead.
"That's a really weird taste. It's not bad, I just have to get used to it."
After another sip, "I think I could get used to this."
A short time later, "This reminds me of something."
We discussed it for a bit - it apparently reminds her a bit of an orange Creamsicle, which I totally understand. They have very similar flavors.
Her final statement? "I wouldn't buy this on my own, but I would eat it again."
Make me think I should order a Strawberry or Straberry-Banana Julius for her ...
The Verdict: I'll call that a Marginal Win.
We learned that she hadn't tried these one day when J was heading to the mall and asked if we wanted anything. I was my usual decisive self.
"Pretzels! Or Teriyaki Chicken! Or a Sandwich! Or ... No ... no ... Orange Julius! I want an Orange Julius!" Yes, those exclamation points are warranted. I was a bit wired and unusually excitable that day.
"What's an Orange Julius?"
Many of these New Things are triggered for us when Dasha asks us, "What is a ... ?" And we know we have a good one when J and I both lock up for a second in surprise.
This particular lockup also settled what I would be getting from the mall that afternoon.
"J," I said, "I think I'd like an Orange Julius today. Given the warm weather, it sounds like just the thing!"
Half an hour later, there was a Julius on my desk, and one on Dasha's desk.
Dasha eyed it warily when was placed in front of her, and she took a cautious sip. Her expression then turned to that of someone who was expecting honey and had oatmeal instead.
"That's a really weird taste. It's not bad, I just have to get used to it."
After another sip, "I think I could get used to this."
A short time later, "This reminds me of something."
We discussed it for a bit - it apparently reminds her a bit of an orange Creamsicle, which I totally understand. They have very similar flavors.
Her final statement? "I wouldn't buy this on my own, but I would eat it again."
Make me think I should order a Strawberry or Straberry-Banana Julius for her ...
The Verdict: I'll call that a Marginal Win.
Thursday, August 4, 2011
Morning Buns
Starbucks has this thing they call a Morning Bun. It's one of my favorite breakfast components. I first discovered it in Indianapolis at GenCon a few years ago. It's like a non-glazed cinnamon roll made with croissant dough. It's on the sweet end of the spectrum without being cloyingly sweet like a lot of cinnamon rolls are. The lack of frosting certainly helps with that.
They're light, they're flaky, and they have enough actual food content to keep me going for several hours - it's not just a sugar rush.
"What is that?"
I explained that it's somewhere between a cinnamon roll and a croissant. "You've had cinnamon rolls, haven't you?"
"Yes, but they're different." There are, of course, dozens and dozens and dozens of varieties of cinnamon roll, depending on where in the world you are.
"Would you like to try a piece of mine?"
"Er ... I don't know. It looks kind of weird." So I pulled a piece off for her. She sniffed at it, gave it kind of an odd look, and then tasted. Her face immediatley contorted. She didn't spit it out, but she evidently didn't like it that much.
All of this reminds me: I need to add American-style Cinnamon Rolls to the list. Maybe I'll hit a Cinnabon.
Verdict: Fail. Not an EPIC fail, but a fail nonetheless.
They're light, they're flaky, and they have enough actual food content to keep me going for several hours - it's not just a sugar rush.
"What is that?"
I explained that it's somewhere between a cinnamon roll and a croissant. "You've had cinnamon rolls, haven't you?"
"Yes, but they're different." There are, of course, dozens and dozens and dozens of varieties of cinnamon roll, depending on where in the world you are.
"Would you like to try a piece of mine?"
"Er ... I don't know. It looks kind of weird." So I pulled a piece off for her. She sniffed at it, gave it kind of an odd look, and then tasted. Her face immediatley contorted. She didn't spit it out, but she evidently didn't like it that much.
All of this reminds me: I need to add American-style Cinnamon Rolls to the list. Maybe I'll hit a Cinnabon.
Thursday, July 28, 2011
Slurpees
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| Creative Commons Attribution, Non-Commercial, No-Derivatives photo by Heath_Bar |
And they have Slurpees.
A few weeks back, I was heading to 7-Eleven1. J (my non-Dasha co-worker) asked me to pick up a bottle of water for her. As I do, I teased her a bit. "So that's a two-liter of Dr Pepper, then?"
"Water."
"Cherry Coke?"
"Water."
"Slurpee?"
At this point, Dasha interjected, "What's a Slurpee?"
Now, I know 7-11 covers quite a bit of the Earth's surface, but I don't know if they have Slurpees everywhere they have stores. So for those few of you who don't know, a Slurpee is basically chopped ice and flavored syrup. It's more fluid than a Snow Cone, but it's not an actual liquid unless you let it sit too long. The ice is chopped finely enough that it'll fit through their straws. They come with a hybrid straw/spoon that - honestly - causes as many problems as it solves.
And if you drink them too quickly, you will suffer from the dreaded Brain Freeze.
I got the Berry Blast flavor for her first Slurpee. It's not a flavor I like (I dislike raspberries), but it's a solid introduction to Slurpees.
Her first comment was, "It's really big!" This was followed by a tentative taste. "That's really sweet," she said after her first sip.
She took it with her when she went to lunch. It didn't return when she did.
A few days later, I went to 7-Eleven again. "Did you want another Slurpee?"
"No thank you," she answered - It may be because of the slightly cooler weather, though. The next one I buy her will be Coke-flavored.
Mmmm. Coke Slurpeee.
Verdict: Unclear. More testing necessary for results.
Thursday, July 21, 2011
Seven Layer Dip
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| This image is under a creative commons non-commercial share alike attribution license. Image by Hubs. |
I brought it in for me, as I'm really fond of the stuff. Well, most of the time.
Those of you who don't know Seven Layer Dip, it's a staple for me during Football season (late summer through early spring). You start with a layer of refried beans. Over that, you add a layer of salsa, a layer of guacamole, a layer of sour cream, a layer of shredded cheese, and a layer of olives. The order of layers varies, but most of them have the olives on top.
And yes, I know, that's only six layers. Tortilla chips are the seventh layer - but you don't actually layer them in. You dip them in. I've had seven layer dip with ground beef, I've had dip with multiple layers of cheese, I've had it with lettuce, and I've had it with jalapeno peppers.
As I said: I hadn't expected to share with Dasha. I brought in enough to share, because I wanted to share with the rest of the team. So I was pretty surprised when Dasha grabbed a chip and gingerly picked at the dip.
She asked me at each layer, "What is this?"
"I don't like this green stuff," she said in regards to the guacamole.
"This is ... interesting," was her comment on the beans.
All in all, she liked the cheese layer, the olive layer, and the salsa layer. And that's it. The like of salsa was a surprise to me, given her stated dislike of Mexican food ... and her extreme dislike of spicy food.
Next time, I'll bring in just chips and salsa. Maybe some shredded cheese - we can make nachos in the microwave.
The verdict: Our first Fail. She only liked two layers of the dip.
Thursday, July 14, 2011
Arby's
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| This photo is creative commons share-alike licensed. |
"What's that?"
Those of you who don't know what Arby's is are apparently not in North America. It's a fast food chain specializing in roast beef sandwiches. The roast beef is very thinly-sliced. Their big claim to fame is their sauce, though. Arby's Sauce is weirdly delicious - and it's not really a barbecue sauce. In fact, they DO have a barbecue sauce that you can get for chicken dishes.
But who goes to Arby's for the chicken? Seriously.
They also have the best curly fries in the fast food industry.
Since it was her first taste, I selected a regular Roast Beef combo meal with the seasoned curly fries for Dasha. I also ordered a side of cheddar cheese sauce for her to dip her fries into. Dasha likes cheese. For her drink, I chose Dr. Pepper - I know she likes it, and it goes well with the Arby's menu.
When I set the food in front of her, the first thing she asked was, "What kind of meat is this?"
It's not an unreasonable question - the texture is unlike anything I've seen elsewhere.
Her next question was about the sauce: "What's this? Does it go on the sandwich or the fries?" Personally, I put it on both. And by "Both," I mean "Every single non-dessert item on the menu which is set in front of me."
She opened one of the packets and squeezed a little onto her finger. "It's good," she said - and then squeezed the rest of the packet onto her sandwich.
After a bite, she said, "This is good!"
Upon trying the fries, she said to me, "This is better than Jack in the Box fries!"
Note to self: She knows Jack in the Box. Scratch that off the list.
After she finished eating, she pointed at the logo. "If you change the last letter to a 3, it almost looks like the Russian word for ... " and she trailed off. A quick Google search later, and there was a picture of a watermelon on screen.
"Watermelon?"
"Yes. In Russian, it's Арбуз"
It was odd to me, because the Greek word for Watermelon is καρπούζι - if you check with Google Translate, you can hear similarities between the Russian and Greek words.
But that's beside the point.
Verdict for Arby's: Success. She found something new that she liked.
Thursday, July 7, 2011
Pop Rocks
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| Photo from Wikimedia Commons Creative Commons licensed by Evan-Amos |
Often, they have Pop Rocks near the registers.
Now, I'm really just a big kid. A big, sarcastic, people-hating child.
Pop Rocks are one of my favorite things. I love them. A sugary blast of fizz with every mouthful!
Dasha had never had them. So I asked her if she'd like some the next time I made a snack and beverage run. She told me she'd like to try them, so I brought some in the next day.
Now, Dasha loves junk food and sweets. A lot. So watching her with the Pop Rocks was hilarious. She mimicked me, and poured a few from her packet into her hand and then tossed the handful into her mouth.
"This is," she started - and then they started popping. "Um ... wow. Really weird."
"Do you like them?"
"They are a little too sweet, but I like them. Where do you find these?"
Verdict: Moderate success.
Thursday, June 30, 2011
My Co-Worker
I whine a lot about my job in various places, but - in all honesty - most of it's not that bad. It certainly beats the alternative.
We've had a lot of turnover in the three years I've been here, and one of our newest hires is also one of the most interesting. She's a recent immigrant - she's been in the US less than five years. Before that, she lived in Moldova.
She is one of the sharpest people I've ever dealt with. There are some very tricky components to the job, and she's managed to avoid getting tripped up by the most common pitfalls. We knew after two days that she would be a good fit in a number of ways - our only hesitation was her command of the English language. And that's a minor hesitation, honestly.
She's very self-conscious about her accent. To help with that, we make an effort to engage her in idle chit-chat when it's slow. At one point, she mentioned that she'd learned English while working at McDonald's. Not only that, but she taught herself to speak English over three years of working at McDonald's.
At one point, she made an off-handed statement. "I'd never heard of McDonald's before I came to this country," she said.
It started us wondering - if she'd never had McDonald's - the very most American of American things (like it or not, McDonald's and Coca-Cola are the biggest symbols of America to those outside the country), what else was she lacking?
So we've started gradually introducing new things to her. This blog will catalog the new things and her reaction to them.
To protect her privacy, I will call her "Dasha," which is (obviously) not her real name.
To protect her privacy, I will call her "Dasha," which is (obviously) not her real name.
It will update weekly at first - until I've worked through the (fairly short) backlog. After that, it'll update every Thursday in which something new is introduced.
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