Fun fact: SanrioDigital are hard at work on a massively multiplayer online roleplaying game, Hello Kitty Online
Recommended T.O.E.: The second time you take ecstasy in Japan

“Chalky and unpleasant.”

I bought three different flavors of Sanrio Bubble Gum for a dollar and fifty cents. I got probably two minutes of chewing in total before my mouth felt like it needed to be emptied (for those of you questioning why gum is being reviewed on a snack website, I swallowed). Gum is meant to be savored, and enjoyed even after the flavoring has worn off. A thirty-five cent pack of Juicy Fruit lasts me a week. Sanrio Bubble Gum, though, is horrible from beginning to end. The texture is chalky and the flavor’s artificial and unpleasant.

It scares me to think about the people who buy this stuff. A quick glance at the Wikipedia article titled “List of Sanrio Characters” gives us a frightening look into the world of these people. You’ll never hear me deny that Hello Kitty is a cute design, but the type of person who is interested in its and its friends’ fiction is sick. Sick.

The first flavor I tried was Cinnamoroll’s.

Cinnamoroll is a white puppy with long ears, blue eyes, and a plump and curly tail that resembles a cinnamon roll. He starred in his own anime movie which was released in Autumn 2007. Some people mistake Cinnamoroll for a rabbit because of his long ears and rabbit-like looks. Cinnamoroll was created in 2001.

It’s the worst of the bunch. I should have known from the start this stuff would be deceiving; it’s “blueberry” flavored, not cinnamon. And that thing is definitely a rabbit, I don’t care what the internet says.

The second was Frooliemew, who surprisingly is not listed on Wikipedia. Maybe Sanrio aficionados aren’t quite internet-from-the-early-00’s savvy. Fan sites, though, have taught me that “Mew,” as they call her, has a birthday. May 24. Fuck. Her gum is “strawberry” flavored, which is curious because her favorite food is blueberry scones. It tastes like cheap girls’ body wash smells.

And last, but far from least, is Chibimaru. His “kiwi fruit” gum is the only half-decent one of the bunch.

Chibimaru is a fictional puppy and one of the Sanrio characters. He was introduced to the world on February 2, 2003. He’s doing tricks as a hobby and is very curious. He spends time inside his owners bag and go to many places. He is one of three triplets, the name of his two siblings are Chidi-Maru & Chifi-Maru.

That is some terrifying shit right there.

-Zvi Finklestein

Fun fact: Biscoff’s are disgusting
Recommended T.O.E.: When you need an in-flight tongue depressor

“The packaging decals were an aesthetician’s worst nightmare.”

At 6:15 this morning, I boarded a non-stop flight to Los Angeles and took my cramped seat, bleary eyed from a solid two hour slumber. I had snacked on a stale bagel in the terminal, and was (foolishly) hoping for something more substantive on the plane.

After a half an hour, the flight attendants rolled down the aisle, their carts filled with glorious snack boxes in every color of the rainbow.

One of United’s new “Quick Picks,” this one I called “The BRED Box.”

I was just about to get my paws on a prime green-stein, when I was asked for a five dollar bill. Panicking, I asked about the fresh breakfast meals, which I was told were seven dollars. One hand rubbed my eyes as the other rubbed my stomach, and suddenly, a Biscoff appeared on my tray table, thrown by an overzealous flight attendant on his way to the back of the bird.

Confused and excited, I ripped open the package and shoved the cookies in my mouth, one in each cheek pouch. I chewed them in a zig-zag fashion (each side of my mouth alternated in chewing a cookie). Sort of like a horse chewing its cud.

The shortbread taste was there, no doubt, but the dryness and packaging decals were an aesthetician’s worst nightmare. And most importantly, I was still fucking starving when I finished them. 200 Biscoffs cost about 26 dollars, so instead of spending 52 dollars on crappy cookies for the whole plane, what about just giving everyone a quarter back? If I had had a quarter, I could have nearly afforded something more useful, like a Cosmic Brownie.

-Benjamin Bernstein

Kat Skylab, my younger sister, took the time out of her busy day to provide us with this video review of everyone’s favorite nut-fruit: Cashews. Enjoy!

-Jill Skylab

Fun fact: Candy necklaces are cheaper per candy than candy bracelets
Recommended T.O.E.: When hipsters inevitably start wearing them

“There are better options for both your candy-eating and your accesorizing needs.”

When reviewing snacks here at Snack You Silly headquarters, we try to not just review food, but completely products. Packaging, brand message, etc. are all taken into account. Candy necklaces are not just candy, they’re jewelry. So I gave my girlfriend one as a gift. (She’s not this website’s guinea pig or anything, I really thought she’d like it.) She didn’t think it was cute or funny. She hasn’t been returning my calls, actually.

Whatever.

I’ve seen kids wearing these things, every once in a while pulling the front part off their neck to their mouth and taking a bite. I tried this, and found that I got some saliva on the candies adjacent to the ones I bit off. These then rubbed against my neck, leaving some residue of artificial coloring on my skin. So after a quick trip to the sink to clean up (we’re usually playing Super Smash Bros. while we snack here, so this is a scratch in the con column), I ate the rest while not wearing it.

So the necklace part of this foodstuff is a failure. And how about the candy? It’s also a letdown. Jill Skylab, associate editor of expanded content for this website, and a women who is hard to impress both when it comes to smart-casual accessories and snack foods, said, “I kind of feel like throwing up,” and “the back of my throat burns.” They’re like SweeTarts without the tart. Or Spree without the fruit flavoring. And really, then, what’s the point? There are better options for both your candy-eating and your accesorizing needs.

-Zvi Finklestein

Fun fact: Despite tasting the same, the chocolate in M&M’s Premiums is made from a different recipe than original M&M’s’
Recommended T.O.E.: When you’re out of Grey Poupon

“I was too disgusted to hold one in my hand long enough to test, but I’m sure it would have melted.”

As everyone should know by now, you “never go full retard.” Ben Stiller, an actor playing an actor playing a role, knows that he can’t forget where he comes from, or that he’s faking, or that he’s there for entertainment.

With M&M’s new release of Mint Chocolate Premiums, however, the brand has gone full retard. In this maneuver, M&M’s have clearly forgotten where they come from, recklessly entering the gourmet chocolate market with results that stimulate neither the intellect nor the taste buds.

M&M’s are candy. They are simple, iconic, regarded with perhaps much more credit than they deserve. In an attempt to dispense with its lowly candy classification, hoping to be regarded by the public as something more, M&M’s have inadvertently dropped one of the elements that made their previous releases so great, or at least palatable: the colored candy shell.

As I said, M&M’s are candy, not chocolate, and to be sure, they are not chocolates. (The plural denoting a level of snootiness often thought out of reach for the Mars Company.) Leaving out the shell showcases what has always been one of the weaker M&M’s ingredients. Alone, the chocolate feels naked and ashamed. It’s also tasteless. The Mint Chocolate Premiums favor dark and white over the traditional milk, but the attempt to fit in with other premium chocolate brands is so shallow it makes me wish I hadn’t bought them.

Without the candy shell, the new M&M’s suffer in many ways. I was too disgusted to hold one in my hand long enough to test, but I’m sure it would have melted.

Why would M&M’s try to change their image with such an abrupt and uninspired release? This is a brand that is fully cemented in the American gum line, so much so that one of our own writers questioned the relevance of our work when addressing such a beloved product. In addition, M&M’s have never lacked relevancy. Peanut, crunchy, mini, peanut butter - each added a new flavor, or at least a new color to the mix. Even the most devoted fan will gain nothing from this version. All that stands out here is the new hourglass cardboard packaging, but as Laura Bix of the Michigan State University School of Packaging writes, “Industrial packaging machines are ‘terribly expensive.’”

We can only hope that M&M’s are left with a hefty debt, and that they’ve learned their lesson.

-Jesse Gubb

Fun fact: Stacy, Minnesota, had a population of 1,278 people at the 2000 census, 722 fewer than the year the statistic was taken in
Recommended T.O.E.: During Listerine’s tax-free weekend

“A bourgeoisie snack, but hey, who’s counting?”

Full disclaimer: My biological mother’s name is Stacey, not Stacy, and I have no relation or personal affiliations with this brand.

Stacy’s pita chips. An intimate celebration of flavor, oil, and flavor. I can remember the first time I had a Stacy’s pita chip. My mom, who is named Stacey, used her executive status to receive a free bag of Stacy’s pita chips in the mail as part of a company wide promotion. My mom, Stacey, was thrilled. Stacy’s chips were so good that Stacey and my entire family finished them in one sitting. Stacey was thrilled and even contemplated changing her name to Stacy. (She figured no one had to know but her.)

But enough about Stac(e)y. Her chips though, especially the six ounce Parm-Garlic package, remind me of summers spent in Tuscany, sampling fresh olive oil every day that had just been tapped from the tree, smooth as an A-wing in a dogfight. Stacy’s chips are so good that you might even want to email me and ask me what I really mean by that last sentence.

What I love most about Stacy’s chips, beyond even the flavor and texture, is the fact that no two chips look exactly alike. Seriously, I dare you to find two chips that would pass for even fraternal twins. Despite their non-uniformity, they do share at least one thing in common with their logical cracker counterpart, Cheez-its. Each bag is a one sitting snack.

-Benjamin Bernstein

Fun Fact: Coffee ingestion on average is about a third of that of tap water in North America and Europe
Recommended T.O.E.: Before 5pm, please

“The bathroom breaks they induce are a welcome break from the cubical.”

“Stepping into an office building is a lot like stepping into a black hole: there’s no coming back. Until 5pm.” My dad would whisper these pearls of wisdom to me every night before bed. After his passing, I continue his dream by covering the walls of my office with inspirational posters featuring words like these. This phrase also serves as a great title page for Power Point presentations for potential clients, and has given me the mindset required to climb up the corporate ladder.

Another lesson I learned at a young age was that a company runs on one thing and one thing alone: coffee. “America runs on coffee, son” is what he used to say. Now working in a corporate environment myself, I can finally understand the truth behind this phrase. (Also: note the recent lawsuit I have filed for copyright infringement against a large doughnut chain regarding this slogan).

So a company is only as good as the coffee they serve. Employees often refer to it as “liquid motivation” or “jitter juice.” When in a bind with nowhere else to go, they turn to the coffee machine. Now, I cannot disclose to you which company I am associated with, but I can tell you that it may (or may not) involve three prominent letters of a certain famous scientific formula.

This company’s brewed beverage of choice is Douwe Egberts, served with “Wholesome Farms” individual creamers. Even after the days of Mr. Pasteur, I learned that the most important aspect of dairy products is their dependence on refrigeration. These bad boys take that idea, stand it on its head, and laugh in its face. This company takes full advantage of this innovation by supplying entire mountains-worth of warm creamers.

Though convenient, upon mixing, this creamer leaves small film-sediments on the top of your freshly brewed “power punch,” which are visually unappealing. Like cheap liquor, the first cup is not very good, but the more you drink, the better it seems to get. That being said, I do not believe any number of cups of this stuff can make it enjoyable or tasty, but rather more tolerable. However, the bathroom breaks they induce are a welcome break from the cubicle.

Citizens across America are troubled with the slumping economy and wonder “What can we do about it?” I leave you with this challenge: try a cup of this coffee, look yourself in the mirror, and ask yourself this question: is the recent economic downfall a result of poor economic choices, or simply the result of bad coffee?

I think you’ll know what to do from there.

-Tim Cronin

Fun Fact: Jon Lovitz was the original voice of the red M&M
Recommended T.O.E.: The 1980’s, apparently

“As a critic, I’ve never felt more irrelevant.”

I know this is a sensitive topic. This past weekend when I walked into the office and tossed a freshly-purchased box of M&M’s onto Kevin’s desk, I was told to step back, and I believe not get “too excited.” This isn’t the kind of candy you just eat and write about as if it’s nothing. They’re to elementary school playgrounds as cigarettes are to the pen. I remember one day in fourth grade I traded Jimmy Bovino eighteen reds for his foil Blastoise.

So how do you review a snack that’s more than just a snack? Do I really need to tell you how much this candy means to so many people? The biggest moment of my entire life was in 2002 when Mars declared that purple had beaten turquoise and pink, and would be the newest addition to M&M’s already all-star lineup of colors. The following two days were the hardest I have ever, and probably will ever party.

But what if I told you that despite all this history, all this glamor, M&M’s aren’t actually that good? Does it matter at this point? If my asshole friend says that Star Wars is overrated, who gives a shit? While working on this review I’ve had to ask myself a lot of questions I’d never before considered. As a critic, I’ve never felt more irrelevant.

So, yes, M&M’s are perhaps undeserving of their fame and cultural significance. I’m not denying that they’re good, but all this hoopla over some chocolate with a candy coating? I support simplicity in cooking, but for snacks, and candy specifically, I enjoy it when chefs get a little more excited and creative. But you’ll love them anyway.

-Zvi Finklestein

Fun Fact: Ice Coffee is greater than or equal to Coffee Ice
Recommended T.O.E.: When you’re at Dunkin’ Donuts

“Best part of Double D’s ice coffee - aiming your straw at the ring of sugar at the bottom of the cup and sucking the grains through the cracks of my teeth (you read those pronouns correctly).”

“Kevin why are you looking up diarrhea?”

These words strike my ear’s floor tom and reverberate through my clothing (I’m wearing PJ pants under my work pants). My supervisor’s got bait on his breath and it’s only a matter of time before he answers for me.

“You meant to type gonorrhea.”

Phew. A lucky save, but probably the last time I’m going to get away with this shit at work.

Truth is, I’ve been doing a pretty good job as a newly self proclaimed coffee celibate. Caffeine stunts your growth (unless you’re Jackie Chan, who does his own stunts) and in general I like to put as few drugs in my body as I need to (since that mushy trip I forever associate global warming with iceberg lettuce). The worst of it - coffee is a serious diarrhetic and I prefer my poops to function as a pleasant break from my day, not a persisting hourly annoyance.

In spite of this I haven’t really been able to give up Dunkin’ D’s ice coffee. So every day I am faced with a choice - save my poop till before bedtime or play telephone tag with nature’s call (more like judgment call). Well today I relented. I love my dairy and those fucks know how to add cream to your coffee.

Best part of Double D’s ice coffee - aiming your straw at the ring of sugar at the bottom of the cup and sucking the grains through the cracks of my teeth (you read those pronouns correctly). Much more akin to coffee milk than straight up coffee which is how I like it. And you gotta drink it before the ice melts, and that happens faster than you can prepare yourself for.

So the lesson is: if you’re going to enjoy this stuff, plan your meals around it so you know what you’re getting yourself into. This stuff is a commitment, but on a hot summer day there’s not much more I can say to you.

-Kevin Khilds

“I call it a goddamn Whatchamacallit!”

Whatchamacallit is my nomination for best candy bar with the worst name. Firstly, Whatchamacallit? Where the fuck does that come from? What do I ma call it? Well, certainly not “walzendoo,” but the answer would be the same if you just asked me what I call it. My linguist friend has informed me that adding a nasal sound, such as “ma,” makes words like this easier to pronounce, but I think “Whatchacallit” would work just fine.

And secondly, and more importantly, how does it make sense for the name of a thing to ask you what you call it? I call it a goddamn Whatchamacallit! So does everybody else. Because that is its goddamn name. As stupid as it sounds, I’m in support of using this thing’s Canadian name, “Special Crisp.”

But I digress. Whatchamacallit is one of the finest candy bars available today. Usually I would chastise people for supporting Hershey products, especially the chocolate-based ones. I’ve even said they’re the Coca-Cola of candy — people buy both simply because they’re trendy without even considering the alternatives. Which are, in most cases, of higher quality.

The main problem I have with Hershey products is the quality of the chocolate. It hardly even tastes like cocoa. But Whatchamacallit defies this rule because of its low chocolate content. The thin coating is enough to stand up to the caramel and peanut-flavored crisps inside without overpowering them, whereas in something like, say, a 5th Avenue bar, the chocolate is the star of the show.

Whatchamacallits are elegant in construction and subtle in their complexity of flavor. They boast a perfect crunch level and fill you up exactly how much you want a candy bar to. So next time you’re in the candy aisle looking for something peanut-y and are feeling sick of Snickers or Reese’s anything (you should permanently by now), give one a shot.

-Zvi Finklestein