What Were They Thinking?

As we come into summertime, the major food manufacturers are rolling out new and improved snack foods and drinks faster than you can count them. If Detroit came out with new cars as often as Frito-Lay rolled out new chips, we'd all be driving those Buck Rogers hovercars by now.

Here's a quick look at some new and just plain odd products you can probably find at your local mega-grocery mart. Not all of them have come out within the last month, but I'm willing to bet most of you have never heard of a lot of them.

Heat And Eat ... If You Dare

We're going to start with the product that got me thinking along this vein to begin with, one that I think I've mentioned over in the Weird Chronicles a time or two: microwaveable pork rinds.

The concept is simple enough: place the bag, which looks much like a microwave popcorn sack, into the microwave and heat it for the prescribed time. Odd pops and sizzles can be heard during the cooking time, which at one point had me thinking my trusty Kenmore had blown a fuse.

When the cooking finishes, the true gastronomic fun begins. First is the odor. It's hard to define, but I would peg it as "almost, but not completely, unlike anything resembling pork rinds." It's a sort of chemical aroma. It doesn't make me want to rip open the bag and start munching.

However, being a professional, it's my bound duty to test these products for you, loyal readers, and so I bid my gorge restrain itself for a moment and prized open the bag.

Mistake. Big mistake. The odor only intensified with the bag open, and the cats left the room in a hurry. With shaking fingers, I retrieved from the bag a whitish, somewhat pork-rindish object that, on close inspection, contained a trace amount of what looked to be a pepper-based seasoning sprinkle.

You can probably guess by now that the flavor was, shall we say, not up to gourmet standards. You'd be guessing right. I've never tried them, but I'd imagine a hearty mouthful of styrofoam peanuts would have about the same texture ... and certainly about as much flavor. 'Nuff said.

Breakfast Is FUN! *Jitter*

Cap'n Crunch has long been one of my secret indulgences. While the rest of you adults sit down to a bowl of Twigs-n-Leaves or whatever healthful hay the cereal manufacturers are shoveling at the over-30 crowd, I'm downing a bowl of Crunch Berries or, even better, Peanut Butter Crunch.

Thus it was with no small amount of excitement that I greeted the newest innovation from the Quaker people, Cap'n Crunch Choco-Donuts cereal. Calvin, of "Calvin and Hobbes," and his trademarked bowls of Chocolate-Frosted Sugar Bombs, would be right at home with such a breakfast confection.

It's a fairly straightforward product: standard O-shaped bits studded with sugar granules that remind me of the salt on a soft pretzel. The flavor, however, was something beyond your ordinary sugary goodness.

Like most chocolate cereals, the flavor is best once they've been in the milk for a couple of minutes, but once that happens, I DARE you to stop at one bowl. You'll be fighting Missy and Junior for the box.

Just for one day, put aside your notions of a "responsible adult" breakfast and dive into some Choco-Donuts. It's therapy in a bowl.

Fry, Fry Again

First it was the colored ketchup. The previously stolid, reliable red goo in a bottle took on hues from every stop along the rainbow, even in one case coming in a "Mystery Bottle" that could have contained just about any color.

The stunning success of these products, especially the green (sheer joy for little brothers everywhere), led the marketing geniuses to ponder what else they might colorize to move more tonnage. Naturally, they hit upon ketchup's favorite companions, french fries.

The colored fries I could understand. Honestly. Potatoes are just about the most pale of foodstuffs, and I can see how a bit of tint might make them more appealing to the kneebiter set.

They couldn't stop there, though. On a recent trip down the frozen food aisle, I happened across ... horror of horrors ... CHOCOLATE french fries. I swear I'm not making this up, nor had I been consuming any intoxicants.

Since there was a coupon dispenser kindly affixed to the freezer-case door, I decided to give them a try. Yes, for those of you wondering, I AM a slow learner. The pork rinds should have taught me, but there is no end of the danger I will risk on behalf of you, good friends and readers.

The instructions were straightforward enough; your basic "scatter on cookie sheet and bake until done." There were no arcane formulae to be followed or bags of sprinkles or goo to be applied. The cocoa flavor was already frozen onto the fries.

Excuse me. Did I say cocoa? I'm sorry. I misspoke. What I meant was "brown." The flavor of these fries could best be described as "brown." They weren't chocolate, although the aroma from the oven certainly promised such. They tasted nothing of potato. There wasn't even much in the way of sugar sweetness one might anticipate from such a kid-targeted product.

After sampling a handful, I without a qualm consigned the remainder of the misbegotten munchies to the trashbin, along with their uncooked brethren still in the convenient zip-seal bag.

How Dew You Dew?

For many years, since Jolt cola became hard to find, Mountain Dew has been my favorite source of that caffeine jolt so necessary to make it through most afternoons. Its lemony goodness and light carbonation make it easy to chug quickly by the liter, guaranteeing a buzz that will last until bedtime.

Periodically, the soda giants go through spasms of creativity. Sometimes, as with Vanilla Coke, they bear most marvelous fruit. Other times, as with Crystal Pepsi, the results are bewildering at best.

Thus it was with a jaded eye that I greeted the first shipment of "Code Red" Mountain Dew to hit my local convenience store chiller. Like most newly launched cola products, it was offered at some pretty monstrous discounts, so I gambled four bits and popped open a liter bottle.

For purists like myself, the flavor may be a bit odd. It's every bit as sweet as original Dew, but there's an undefinable fruity undertone that's completely unDewlike. In short, it's drinkable, but no substitute for the original.

Ben And Jerry's Joy

Every March and April, I can be seen loitering around the ice cream cases, scoping out the usually pitiful amount of shelf space given to that greatest of all premium ice creams, Ben and Jerry's.

This year, along with three totally new flavors, they've rolled out new formulations of vanilla, coffee and chocolate under the "For A Change" banner. These latter flavors are now made using products bought from small, family or village-based farms that are true to B&J's well-known environmental and social beliefs. They're just flat yummy, too.

The three completely new creations are Uncanny Cashew, Brownie Batter and Oatmeal Cookie Chunk. To my palate, by far the greatest of these is Uncanny Cashew, a mindbending blend of salty and sweet, with big chunks of roasted cashews and a caramel swirl. This may be one my Vermont idols' greatest creations ever.

If you've got an oatmeal cookie fan in the house, hie thee hence and obtain vast quantities of the Oatmeal Cookie Chunk. A spoonful of this and you'll experience a sensory disorientation ... you KNOW you're eating ice cream, but your taste buds are swearing up and down they're being fed a prime quality oatmeal cookie. The fudge chunks hit a bit of an off note, but raisins just wouldn't have worked in ice cream.

A bit less inspiring is the Brownie Batter flavor. This is territory Ben and Jerry have covered before, several times, and a good bit better. The "brownie batter" swirl is cloyingly sweet, and just lacked the fudgy edge of really good brownies.

Seen a weird or new food product you'd like reviewed? Drop me a line and let me know!