In the world of thrill seeking, I am a tired old man. Preferably, one who resembles an old Allan Quatermain or, for you illiterate bastards, Colonel Mustard. Same damned thing, different build. Pith helmets make people look alike, anyhow. In the heyday of my youth I'd be brash enough to protest at the very thought of venturing less than an hour to find the world's greatest hot dog; now, I can barely muster the enthusiasm of jetting down the street to try Taco Bell's newest monstrosity of spices and dog food. As my enthusiasm for the mundane wanes to a tepid aloofness, the offerings of the world go up. And now, dissatisfied with the Americas, I turn to the Orientals to keep me amused.
Sometimes, the world can be a cruel, cold place.
And other times the fates shine upon us. This is true in the case of the wasabi-flavored Kit Kat, a condiment I am often known to eschew. Only in the humid days of summer, in the sweating, balmy walls of a sushi house quietly playing Maggie May, will I consume a blob with my delicious Philadelphia roll. However ambivalent I may be toward wasabi, Keepitcoming's enthusiasm for the stuff is tenfold. We ordered this treat on a lark from napaJapan.
The consistency of this snack is the quintessential 'Kat you all know and love, but the taste hints of exoticism with a smile. Truly, this is a snack with its feet in both worlds, but a home in neither. The wasabi flavor is gentle, much like my persistent, sweetly drunken caresses in the shadows of local watering holes, paired with a natural, powerful vanilla bean cream in and outside the bar. While the wasabi is not as powerful or as nose-clearingly intense as that of the restaurant paste, it establishes its presence as a grassy heat and makes a pungent and unique dessert. This candy is not of the ilk of shock foods, whose intense ingredients merely serve the purpose of boasting rather than bolstering the quality of the overall confection. It is far more accessible than chipotle in most desserts and should replace it as the go-to spice for sweets. I found that the flavors melded together extremely well while maintaining the integrity of each component and created a unique sensation in the mouth. Candies like this rejuvenate my élan for the absurd. With wasabi flavored Kit Kats, anything can happen.
Sometimes, the world can be a cruel, cold place.
And other times the fates shine upon us. This is true in the case of the wasabi-flavored Kit Kat, a condiment I am often known to eschew. Only in the humid days of summer, in the sweating, balmy walls of a sushi house quietly playing Maggie May, will I consume a blob with my delicious Philadelphia roll. However ambivalent I may be toward wasabi, Keepitcoming's enthusiasm for the stuff is tenfold. We ordered this treat on a lark from napaJapan.
The consistency of this snack is the quintessential 'Kat you all know and love, but the taste hints of exoticism with a smile. Truly, this is a snack with its feet in both worlds, but a home in neither. The wasabi flavor is gentle, much like my persistent, sweetly drunken caresses in the shadows of local watering holes, paired with a natural, powerful vanilla bean cream in and outside the bar. While the wasabi is not as powerful or as nose-clearingly intense as that of the restaurant paste, it establishes its presence as a grassy heat and makes a pungent and unique dessert. This candy is not of the ilk of shock foods, whose intense ingredients merely serve the purpose of boasting rather than bolstering the quality of the overall confection. It is far more accessible than chipotle in most desserts and should replace it as the go-to spice for sweets. I found that the flavors melded together extremely well while maintaining the integrity of each component and created a unique sensation in the mouth. Candies like this rejuvenate my élan for the absurd. With wasabi flavored Kit Kats, anything can happen.
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