MC Hammer

And now the post I don't want to write.  Not because I didn't introduce Dasha to something new, because I did.

You see, Psy was on some big music awards show performing his hit Gagnam Style. At about three minutes into the performance, the lights go out, and the words "It's Hammer Time!" are heard.

And then it became a mashup of Gagnam Style and 2 Legit 2 Quit.

And I realized that Dasha probably had no idea who this guy was that was dancing with Psy.  So I asked her, "Do you know who that is?"

"No."

"What about the other guy?"

"Yes. Where does he even come from? His song is awful."

So she knew who Psy was, but she'd never heard of MC Hammer. Which - in all honesty - shouldn't surprise me all that much - she wasn't even born when U Can't Touch This was a huge megahit single.

Does that make anyone else feel old?

So I did what any hateful person would do: I visited YouTube for the video linked above.  Because no-one's suffering is complete until they have seen that video.

"Did you know," she asked me after a few seconds, "That those pants are back in style? And for women, too?"

A short time later, "He sings, too?  This is awful!"

So we are in complete agreement.

I wonder if she knows Vanilla Ice ...

Chili

It was slow at work, and the weather has finally started to change to cool. So I mentioned that I was thinking of getting some chili for lunch.

Dasha rewarded me with one of her famous blank looks.

"Have you never had chili before?"

"I've never even heard of it!"

So I sent her the Wikipedia link.  "Ohhh," she said, "It's Mexican!"

It's funny: I don't think of Chili as being a Mexican food, but it is. In fact, Chili is more authentically Mexican than most of the foods we get in Mexican restaurants. It pre-dates the Spanish conquest of the new world!

For those few of you who don't know what it is, it's basically a thick soup made with tomatoes, chili peppers (usually in the form of chili powder), and meat. Many recipes add other things to the mix, with beans being one of the more common additions.

It's also one of the last things I would have expected to be blogging about here, as it's so widespread in the US. It's widespread enough that I never thought to look into its origins before today. It was just one of those foods I had growing up that I liked.

I was a little concerned - Dasha has a reputation around here for being a bit of a spice wuss.  She can't handle really hot foods. Or even moderately hot foods.  So picking a good chili for her required thought.

I finally settled on Wendy's. Not only is it pretty good chili, it's cheap. And easy to reach during my lunch break. And, because it's designed for the mass market, it's not too hot.

I told her I was getting some before heading out to lunch.

"Are you sure? It's not too expensive is it?"

I reassured her that it was only $1.50 (because I was getting a small).

"Well ... okay.  If you're sure."

I ordered the chili with onions and cheese both - chili just isn't right unless it is properly topped.  She sniffed suspiciously when I set hers in front of her.  "Why do you always serve crackers with soup? Why don't you just use bread?"

And then a tentative taste.

"It's not bad!"

Another taste.

"I can eat this. Thank you, Eric."

It hit me, then - Chili to her is an exotic food.  It's like putting Poi or Borscht in front of me - they're flavors for which I have no regular and recurring frame of reference. I've had them - rarely - but not enough that I can tell good Poi from bad.

"This," she told me, "is very different for me. But I think I like it."

Even though she didn't say anything, I do think it was still a little too spicy for her, because she ate most of her crackers.

"I can see eating this in the winter," she said, "the heat, you know?"

Then she saw my burger - "Are those any good?"

She's never had a Wendy's burger.

I'll have to remedy that.

Haribo Gold Bears

I have documented several times that Dasha has a sweet tooth. One recent afternoon, I happened to wander into a grocery store on my lunch, and found one of my favorite snacks:

Haribo Gold Bears

Now, before I get started:  I am well aware of the fact that Haribo Gold Bears are a German thing, not strictly an American thing. Sorta.  See, the ones we get here in the US are different from the German ones. So I'm claiming them. It won't be the first non-American thing featured here.

The grocery store in question had them on sale - 4 bags for $5. Not a terrible deal - and I wasn't sure if Dasha had tried them before or not. I figured that, even if she didn't like them, I did. And I can eat two bags if I have to.

As I'm sure you can tell, it's getting harder and harder to find new things to introduce her to. Thus the long gaps between posts.

I'm sure there are a few of you who are reading this and wondering what the big deal about Haribo bears is - aren't all Gummy Bears the same?  And the answer is a resounding "no."

The two biggest manufacturers of gummy bears for the US market are Trolli and Haribo.  Trolli bears are softer and sweeter, but have less flavor.  Haribo bears are a bit more expensive, are firmer, and have quite a bit more flavor.

There are people who prefer the Trolli bears - I'm just not one of them. And if I'm introducing Dasha to something new, it'll be something I like. Or the best version of something I like (I don't dislike Trolli bears - I just prefer the Haribo ones).

When I walked into the office, I had a couple of things in my hands, and I dropped one bag on her desk as I walked by.

"Um ... what's this?"

"Gold bears.  They're a kind of candy. One I really like. Have you had them before?"

"No." A tentative poke at the candy (still in the bag). "Did you mean to put these on my desk?"

"Yes. I bought two bags, and thought I'd share.  If you don't like them, I'll eat them."

"Okay."  She gave it a skeptical look.  I don't think the texture appealed to her, even before opening the bag. "It'll have to wait until after my lunch, though."

"That's fine."  And I went back to work and she headed off to lunch, leaving the candy on her desk.

When she got back, I asked her if she'd tried them,  yet.

I try not to push - I really do.  Because my pushing can change her perception of whatever it is I'm trying to introduce her to, and not in a good way, either.  Of course, she trusts me, now, too.  She eats at Taco Time more days a week than I do, and we make Arby's runs a few times a month. And that's without mentioning the Blizzards ...

So she cut them open, and pulled one out.  "Are they the same flavor?"

I explained that each one was a different flavor. That some people can't tell the difference. And no, I don't know why Green is Strawberry here in the US. Because strawberry should be pink (or red).

So she grabbed one. I didn't see which one it was, but she put it in her mouth, and chewed. Slowly.  Her face kinda scrunched up, and she got that "do not want," look on her face (so I suspect it was lemon - those do that to me, too).  "You can have the rest of these," she said. "I like candy, but mostly chocolate. Not these."

Ah, well.

More for me.

The verdict:  Fail.  She wasn't even willing to try a second bear.

Philly Cheesesteak Sandwiches

Today, as I was getting ready to go to lunch, Dasha pushed some cash on me.

"Do you want me to get you something?"

"Yes."

"But I don't even know where I'm going, yet!"

"That's okay.  Just get me something to try."

With a golden opportunity like that, I had to take advantage.

"Have you ever had a Philly?"

She hadn't.  So I went to Jersey Mike's. See, I really like their sandwiches and eat there an average of once per week. Sometimes more, if I get a craving when I'm at work. And, as an added bonus, they don't put mushrooms on their Phillies.

Why do people do that?

So the Philly: It's one of the basic hot sandwiches. You take beef and slice it thin. Then grill it, melt cheese on it, and throw it on a Hoagie roll.  Most people then add peppers and onions while it's grilling.  Generally the peppers are not hot peppers - mostly green and red bell peppers.

Sometimes it's served with au jus, as if it were a French Dip.

At Jersey Mike's, they wrap it in foil for you, which makes it easy to get back to the office with a still-hot sandwich.

I presented the sandwich to Dasha, and received one of her dubious looks. "This looks ... interesting."  She didn't sound particularly enthusiastic, either.

A few bites, then, "That's the weirdest thing I ever tried."

"Is it a good weird or a bad weird?"

"It's good.  It's like a hot dog, but not. Nothing like it.  It's weird."  I have never heard a Philly compared to a hot dog before. Especially not a good Philly. But there it is.  I even did a double-take when typing this up.

"This thing is gooooood.  It's not like heavy, it's kinda light.  I don't know how to explain it."  She actually included all of those o's, too.  You could hear them.

Now, despite her sweet tooth, Dasha tends to eat like a bird - a bit here, a bit there, a lot of leftovers.  But she finished her sandwich off.  Completely.  And then it was interrogation time:

"Where did you get this?"

"Jersey Mike's."

"Where is Jersey Mike's?"

I gave her directions - and then made sure that she knew that Phillies were one of those things that you can get nearly anywhere that does decent sandwiches.

"What kind of cheese is this?"

"I think it's provolone, but it is sometimes made with Swiss or a mixture of the two."

"What kind of meat is this?"

"It's beef, sliced thin."

"I think my husband will like this."

The last time she told me that she thought her husband would like something was way back with the Dairy Queen Blizzards. So I have a hunch she'll have another Philly or two or three this weekend.

The verdict: Win.  She liked the sandwich. A lot.

Buffalo Wings

A few weeks ago, J brought in some hot wings that she'd purchased at a local BBQ joint. I have a huge weakness for a good wing.

Since Dasha sits between us, she is - by default - involved in any conversations that J and I have.

"What," she asked after a moment, "is a Buffalo wing?"

Cue my usual moment of disconnect while I process yet another gap in Dasha's cultural knowledge. Buffalo wings are one of those rare American Things that is genuinely American.

Log cabins? Swedish. Apple pie? English, Dutch, or Swedish, depending on who you ask.

Seriously. Do your homework.

Buffalo Wings? American.

It's a wing cut into two parts, and deep-fried until crispy. Once they're crisped up, they are slathered in a vinegar-based hot sauce. It's similar to a Carolina Barbecue Sauce, only spicier.

We're lucky here in the Seattle area, as we have an excellent wing-focused chain, Wing Dome.

I know that Dasha is a bit of a spice wuss - she doesn't much like spicy food. So I decided to take it easy on her and start her at a Two Alarm. It's stronger than catsup, but not by much. I usually go for a Four Alarm. My wife goes for a Five.

Like most places, Wing Dome serves their wings with celery and blue cheese dressing.

Dasha had apparently never had celery before, either. "What is this?"

"It's celery," I explained. It's astounding to me how many things celery appears in - I, personally, tend to see it mostly as an ingredient in a variety of soups. "It's healthy," I continued. "In the US, children often have this for a snack, usually with peanut butter."

Her nose wrinkled at this. "Ooookayyyy," she said, "I will try it."

"Wait until you have a wing," I told her. "The celery will help cut the heat if it's too spicy." I had trouble keeping a straight face at this - Two Alarm isn't too spicy for anyone, is it?

"Oh. What a good idea!" She proceeded to crunch into the (really tasty-smelling) wings. Her eyes widened and her eyebrows shot up. "Mmmm! This is really good!"

I showed her how to dip the wings in the bleu cheese dressing - again, for the "heat."

"That is very tasty," she told me.

And then she tried the celery (dipped in the bleu cheese dressing). Apparently it was a fail. "This green stuff? Let me tell you I am not eating it because it is the nastiest grass I have ever tasted!"

When her meal was done, I asked her what she thought of it. "It was amazing, but my mouth is now like it's on fire."

The verdict: Win.

Peanut Brittle

I figured I'd get a few New Things in over the holidays - and I've been very lucky. I was able to introduce Dasha to a couple of things over the last few weeks.

As I'm sure you all know, I have a sweet tooth.  So does Dasha.

And the holidays are all about snacking.

One of my particular Christmas-season favorites is Peanut Brittle. I know it's available year-round, but I just don't think of it when it's not December. I blame all those rural Montana Christmases I spent as a kid.

Peanut brittle, for those two of you who don't know, is basically a hardened caramel with peanuts worked into it. For all that I don't like caramel, I do loves me some brittle.

I was actually shocked when Dasha told me she's never had it before. I keep forgetting that Peanuts are a New World food that didn't exist in Europe prior to the 15th Century.  It's one reason Dasha had such a lukewarm reaction to the chocolate peanut-butter pretzel bites - peanut butter just wasn't a standard part of her diet when she was young, and it's still partly unfamiliar to her. In fact, it wasn't popular in the US until the late 1800's - but that's beside the point.

I snapped a piece of the brittle off and offered it to her.  The first thing she did was sniff at it.  "It smells like butter." Butter is a common ingredient in peanut brittle, so this scent was not surprising. She then looked at me, and asked, "Is it like caramel?"

As discussed above, it is very much like caramel (in theory). I don't like caramel, but I love Brittle - so it's not necessarily identical (or even particularly close).

J then asked her what she thought.  "It's kinda good, but I don't know about my teeth.  They may cry afterwards."

By the time I made it back into the office after lunch, the brittle was gone.

Verdict: Win.  It won't topple the DQ Blizzard in terms of Biggest Win, but this is still a significant win.

Chocolate-Covered Macadamia Nuts

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

New Russian Thing: Candy

Dasha turned the tables on me this week. "These are Russian candy," she told me as she spilled a small handful of wrapped candies onto the desk. "I think you will like them."

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.

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.

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.

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 is a funny movie."

"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.