Turn 16, Eat Fish

Back again around December 1. There are things to do and things to eat between now and then. This year we might not bother with a separate Thanksgiving dessert, because a fair amount of Lilly’s birthday cake is still around. I can’t resist a half sheet when the time comes, so it always takes a while to get through it all.

As for the main ingredients of the feast — or really, just a large meal, since it won’t be boisterous enough to rise to the level of a feast — it’ll be some variety of large bird. It will not be expertly prepared raw fish. We had that for Lilly’s birthday meal.

I’m pretty sure that isn’t what I ate when I turned 16. But those were slightly different times.

Halloween ’13

I can’t remember the last time it rained on Halloween, but today we had a fair amount. It finally slacked off in the late afternoon, and children and others emerged to collect sweets. Not as many as most years, but some. Lilly was out with friends, ignoring my opinion that she’s too old for it.

I took Ann out in the immediate neighborhood while she waited for a friend of hers to show up – they were going to some kind of park district spook-tacular or boo-nanza or something. She reported having fun at that, but I’m glad I didn’t have to take her. A little Halloween goes a long way.

Mostly she collected usual-suspect candies. In no particular order: Hershey bars, Nestle Crunch, Snickers, Kit Kats, Twizzlers, M&Ms, Twix, Tootsie Rolls and Pops, Butterfingers, Milky Ways, Whoppers, Dots, Milk Duds, Dum Dums, Take 5 and Jolly Rancher. There were a few oddities, such as Sour Face Twisters Bubble Gum, product of Mexico, and three flavors of small Tootsie Roll imitators, except they’re brick-shaped rather than rolls – Wild Cherry, Blue Raspberry, and Green Apple chews, all made in Brazil “by Riclan S/A for R.L. Albert & Son.”

A modest amount of looking around tells me Riclan is a confectionery company located in Rio Claro, in São Paulo state. R.L. Albert & Son is located in Stamford, Conn., and seems to specialize in making seasonal candies – or having them made off shore. The manufacturer didn’t short the product on brightly colored food colors, that’s for sure.

We gave away Romeo and Dreemy, two Aldi brands made in Germany. Aldi sells wonderful German chocolates, and those are two: coconut and nougat bars, respectively. I also insisted on giving away Smarties, despite mocking from my offspring. “No one likes Smarties,” Lilly said. “Oh, yeah?” I shot back. “At least a quarter of the people in this house do.”

Smarties and I go back 40+ years. And I’m happy to report that they’re made by the Smarties Candy Co. (until 2011 Ce De Candy Inc.) of New Jersey, not some secretive confectionery behemoth bent on world domination (and they know who they are). The candies are made in only two places. Smarties’ web site says that “Smarties are made 24 hours a day in two candy factories located in Union, New Jersey, and Newmarket, Ontario. The company produces billions of Smarties rolls each year.”

A State-of-the-Art Coupon

Not long ago, I discovered an inflated tube of Jimmy Dean Pure Pork Sausage in the refrigerator. I’d been down that road before. This time, though, the tube wasn’t at the back of the refrigerator, forgotten past its BEST IF USED BY date. Instead, the use-by date was the next day. This time I opened it up, slightly, and some foul-smelling air hissed out.

I wrote an email to Hillshire Brands, which owns Jimmy Dean, to let them know about the product failure. An automated acknowledgement came at once, then a couple of days later, another email:

Dear Mr. Stribling, [hey, they got the gender right]

It’s Christina from Jimmy Dean.

It is always important to hear from our consumers and we are so glad you sent us an email. Thank you for your loyalty.

We take pride in ensuring our customer’s satisfaction, and exceeding expectations. I am sorry for the disappointment of our mild sausage. We take quality seriously and this is not typical of our products. I have shared your feedback with our plant quality manager. 

We truly value you and via the United States Postal Service, I am more than happy to send you a full value coupon to enjoy the Jimmy Dean product of your choice. Please enjoy and have a fabulous Autumn season!

Regards,

Christina

Two days later I got a paper letter by USPS, expressing more gratitude for my communication, and including a coupon for any Jimmy Dean product – up to a value of $8.49. Not bad. Whatever else you can say about Hillshire Brands, they’ve got a mechanism in place for dealing quickly with consumer complaints.

The coupon itself isn’t like any I’ve ever seen before. The more I looked at it, the stranger it seemed – until I realized that it sports anti-counterfeiting features more commonly found on banknotes. Then again, it is a sort of money, or at least has a monetary value, and at $8.49 max value, not something the company wants reproduced willy-nilly.

All the way across the back of the coupon is a holographic foil strip with the initials “CIC” inside circles all way across. A little digging tells me that CIC is the Coupon Information Corp., a nonprofit of “consumer product manufacturers dedicated to fighting coupon misredemption and fraud,” according to its web site.

“The CIC and its members have worked with Federal, State and local Law Enforcement officials on every significant coupon fraud case since CIC began operations in 1986,” the site continues. “As of this time, CIC has not lost a single case.” We’re Batman, extreme couponers are the Joker.

But that’s not all. There’s a faintly visible pattern everywhere on the back surface of the coupon. It took me a while to figure out that it says VOID over and over. The idea is that when you go to photocopy the thing, a standard-quality printer will blur the lines together and ta-da! VOID is now written all over the coupon in a highly visible way.

Also, there are random patterns of little yellow bubbles printed at two places on the coupon. Or so it seems. As far as I can tell, those bubbles might be a form of EURion constellation, which is “added to help imaging software detect the presence of a banknote in a digital image,” according to Wiki.

Wow. I’ve got myself a hard-core, anti-counterfeiting coupon. I’ll bet more technical prowess went into it than most banknotes produced before, say, 1990.

Oh Yes! (Sweet Potato Creme-Filled Chocolate Cakes)

There’s a new H Mart not far from where we live – a smaller version of the Korean supermarket in Niles, Ill. It took over space formerly occupied by an independent Asian grocery store (whether that was Korean, I don’t know). I visited the new H Mart over the weekend, and for a discount got some Haitai brand Oh Yes! “Premium Chocolate Coated Sweet Potatoes Filling Cake.”

Oh Yes! A good name. Catchy. Wasn’t that something Molly Bloom said?

I wondered about that sweet potato filling. But for a couple of dollars for 12 cakes, I was willing to give it go. The ingredients are simple: cocoa powder, cocoa mass, white sugar, and sweet potato cream. You get about a third of your DV in saturated fat in each cake, with none of that trans fat. There’s also some carbohydrates in them, but very little else.

Haitai is a South Korean food company, lately owned by Crown Confectionery, another Korean entity. Naturally, I had to look up Haitai’s web site, and found some other product names that I like, all of which look like confections: Baked Potato Stick, Choco Homerun Ball, Bravo Cone, and Babamba.

About Oh Yes!, the web site says (all sic): “Oh Yes! (1984) is our one and only soft chocolate cream cake, which has been on demand for many years due to its soft and delicious taste that melts in your mouth. It is proudly making monthly sales of 4 billions won.”

I liked the Homerun Ball description, too: “The idea of our snack product, Homerun ball, was originated from the Korea Baseball Organization in 1981. It’s unique name was derived from its particular baseball shaped appearance. Homerun ball contains chocolate inside every round ball, and is a easy to-go snack that is great to take out to any event. The Homerun ball is successsfully reaching monthly sales of 4.2 billions won.”

So, a few more Homerun Balls than Oh Yes! cakes sold each month. Anyway, the sweet potato favor does take a little getting used to, if you’re used to regular cream fillings. But the cakes aren’t bad.

Wisconsin Eats

On our second evening in Wisconsin, I went out to pick up our evening meal. Everyone else knew what they wanted, and so I went to those places, but I didn’t have anything in mind for myself. By chance I came across My Lee’s Egg Roll House at the corner of Franklin and Richmond in Appleton. I followed an impulse to go there, and bought a takeout meal of two large egg rolls with fried rice. I also picked up a roll – mini-loaf? piece? of “longcheng” bread with strawberry filling for snacking on the way back to the motel.

I was the only customer, so I asked the woman behind the counter if she were My Lee. She was, she said in a heavy accent, and hoped that I would enjoy my egg rolls. I learned from an article posted on the wall that she and her husband had opened up the store only last year in a former Batteries Plus location. They are Hmong, originally from Laos (I think). Whatever their back story, I’m happy to report that in Appleton, Wisconsin, in our time they make some fine egg rolls and filled bread.

Harmony Cafe is on College Blvd in Appleton’s business district, created from the joining of two narrow spaces in brick-facade buildings old enough to sport punched tin ceilings. Apparently it’s one of two locations, with the other in Green Bay. Goodwill Industries of North Central Wisconsin runs the place, and benefits from it. That by itself wouldn’t have persuaded me to visit, or even its composting of coffee and food waste or use of fair-trade coffee beans. But I happened to know from my visit last August that the joint has a tasty Cuban pork sandwich, one just about as good as the one I had in Tampa’s Ybor City. It’s still on the menu. Good eats.

On the way home, we stopped at Mars Cheese Castle on I-94 near Kenosha, purveyor of cheese, meat, baked goods, sweets and more. The place has been enlarged since I was last there, and actually looks like the kind of castle a kid would draw.

The place is a roadside institution. Sure enough, it’s in Roadside America, which says: “This mainstay of Cheesehead gastronomy has reopened in a new, more castle-like building only a few feet from its original location, which was bulldozed for an I-94 interchange (the classic sign was saved). Now with real battlements! A real drawbridge! The Castle still has its cocktail lounge, and still sells ‘cow pies’ and udder-shaped coffee mugs — and its iconic roof-mounted cheese-chomping overcaffinated-eyed giant mouse sculpture has been repainted and moved indoors so that people can now pose next to it.”

We got some cheese curds. Made in Wisconsin, of course.

Summertime Samosa

Saw the streak of a firefly over my lawn this evening. First one of the year. That and twilight at about 9 p.m. mark the coming of high summer. Even so, I can feel June slipping away. Wish this sweetest of months could linger a little longer.

Before adopting our dog, I wouldn’t have guessed how important windows were to her. She’s a tall dog when she stands on her hind legs, and can see out of some of our windows – and spends a lot of time doing just that. One of the windows she fancies is easy to see from the driveway, and sometimes as I pass that window in my car, headed for the garage, I see the glint of two canine eyes.

Impulse purchase of the week (of the month?): Regal Chowk’s Punjabi Samosa, which seems to be made by an entity called Anarkali in Pakistan. Basic searches tell of a folk heroine from Lahore called Anarkali, who’s appeared in books, plays and movies made on the subcontinent, but I’m too lazy to look into that any further right now.

Anyway, these samosa are in the frozen foods section of your neighborhood grocery store, or at least one of my nearby grocery stores, since there’s a fairly large population here in the northwest suburbs who are from, or whose parents are from, South Asia. The first place I ever had samosa was on Devon Ave. in Chicago years ago, as an appetizer, and I’ve enjoyed them now and then ever since. Fresh is going to be hard to beat, but I thought I’d give these a try. Might be surprised.

Cockta Cola

The ease that goods move around the world is a marvel of the age — an everyday marvel. No small infrastructure was necessary to bring a frosted bottle of Cockta brand soda from Central Europe to the shelf of a grocery store far inland in North America, where I bought it not long ago for a small sum.

An impulse purchase, of course. Why? Because it was bottled in Slovenia. I don’t ever remember buying anything made in Slovenia, and that was enough to sell me. The label tells me that a company called Droga Kolinska of Ljubljana makes Cockta. It is a regional food conglomerate with other brands that include Argeta, Grand Kafa and Smoki, according to this site, though a lot of the links are broken, including the Cockta one.

It’s a cola. It isn’t bad. With sugar instead of corn syrup. It reminded me a bit of the cola made in Vietnam as a domestic alternative to imperialist running-dog Coca-cola, and maybe Cockta was originally created as a Yugoslav version of such. I know from watching One, Two, Three long ago that the quest for a drinkable socialist cola was once an important concern behind the Iron Curtain.

Borodenko: We do not need you! If we want Coca-cola, we invent it ourselves!

C.R. MacNamara (James Cagney): Oh, yeah? In 1956 you flew a bottle of Coke to a secret laboratory in Sverdlosk. A dozen of your top chemists went nuts trying to analyze the ingredients. Right?

Mishkin: No comment!

C.R. MacNamara: And in 1958, you planted two undercover agents in Atlanta to steal the formula. And what happened? They both defected! And now they’re successful businessmen in Florida packaging instant borscht. Right?

Peripetchikoff: No comment!

C.R. MacNamara: Last year you put out a cockamamie imitation “Kremlin-kola!” You tried it out in the satellite countries, but even the Albanians wouldn’t drink it. They used it for sheep dip! Right?

The Flathead Lake Monster on a Bottle

The drink of the day: Flathead Lake Gourmet Soda. It’s been in the refrigerator a while, and I’ve forgotten where I bought it. But today was warm, and I needed something to drink.

The label claims it’s Montana’s Legendary Soda, and maybe it is, but I’m not up on Montana beverages. Smaller print says North American Beverage Company, Ocean City, NJ, “under license from Flathead Lake Monster Inc.” Note the label also says “Huckleberry.”

The ingredients include what every soda has, however, including carbonated water, high fructose corn syrup, critic acid and a few artificial favors and colors. As I understand it, “huckleberry” can refer to a number of different berries, none of which appear in this drink.

Still, not bad on a warm day. And I have another interesting bottle to put in the garage.

Thursday Debris

Sure enough, the snow started to melt today, when it was above freezing during the daylight hours. But there’s still a lot of ground covered, so this is going to take a while. It brings to mind the preternaturally warm March we had last year. Which was a prelude to drought, so I don’t think we want that again.

During the snow day on Tuesday, Lilly and Ann went out to build a structure in the back yard. They called it a snow couch, which they said was easier than a snowman.

Yuriko got a package of Curly’s Meaty Barbecue Baby Back Pork Ribs from a warehouse store recently, and we ate them even more recently. At least I think that was the name. I’m not going to dig the wrapping out of the trash now. Precooked, so all you do is heat them. Meaty, all right. But the sauce was too sweet, we concluded. Not enough tang. I’m sure it can be a difficult balance, but they erred on the side of sweetness. Maybe they were misled by focus groups.

Pictured on the right, fruit on custard. Yuriko didn’t bring that home, but made it not long ago, and we liked it a lot. The kiwi on it, I happened to find out, was imported from Italy. That was my new fact for the day: Italy has a kiwi crop. That’s been true for a while now, it seems. A 2008 article in the Los Angeles Times tells us: “Somewhat improbably, Italy has grown to become the world’s largest producer of the odd furry fruit, according to the National Institute of Agricultural Economics, surpassing even New Zealand, which coined the name for the fruit once known as the Chinese gooseberry.”

Deputy Marshall Ronald Reagan

Portillo’s is a (mostly) local chain specializing in hot dogs, Italian beef, burgers and the like, and across its various locations, thematic decorations from the ’20s to the ’60s. The food is good and the decorations interesting, so every few months we go to one of the locations, two of which are fairly close.

Last weekend Lilly and I visited the one on Illinois 83 in Elmhurst, a bit out of our usual orbit. Before ordering, I was waiting while Lilly was in the restroom, and taking a look at some of the items on the walls in that part of the restaurant. Off in one corner is a framed picture of Ronald Reagan in a western outfit, wearing a badge that says Deputy U.S. Marshall. My guess would be it’s a publicity shot from Law and Order (1953).

On closer inspection, I noticed that it’s autographed. I’m not familiar with Reagan’s handwriting, but I’ve no reason to think it isn’t his. “Dick” must be Dick Portillo, who founded and still owns the chain.

To Dick –

If I don’t make it acting, I’ll try the hot dog business.

Ron