Tag: Misc Foods

Fruits are Mother Nature’s candy.

However, even though I can walk into the produce section of a grocery store and easily buy pounds of Mother Nature’s candy and get sick from eating it all at one time like a kid with inattentive parents and a jack-o’-lantern pail full of candy on Halloween, I still don’t consume enough fruit.

I also don’t eat enough of Mother Nature’s medicine (vegetables) and Mother Nature’s fun pills (Psilocybin mushrooms).

I don’t consume a lot of fruits because I’m horrible at picking fruits that don’t have some kind of defect, the produce guy at my usual grocery store handles fruit in a creepy way, and cheeseburgers and potato chips always block my mouth from getting any.

Materne is a company many of you have never heard of, but you’ve probably seen and/or purchased their applesauce pouches for children — GoGo squeeZ (Yes, that’s how they spell it). According to Materne, 30 percent of their fruit pouches for kids are consumed for adults. I believe that number is accurate because I enjoy eating Kid Cuisine frozen entrees and stabbing Capri Sun pouches from time to time.

Perhaps, in order to stop parents from eating their kid’s snacks, Materne introduced a line of adult fruit pouches called GoGo squeeZ Fast Fruit.

The adult snack, which could be consumed by kids for revenge, comes in three flavors: Apple Raspberry Cranberry, Apple Peach Passion Fruit, and, the one I’ve been sucking on, Apple Mango Pineapple Banana.

Sucking?

Well, in order to get the fruit out of the pouch and into your mouth, you could be civilized and squeeze out the pouch’s contents into a bowl and eat the mashed fruits with a spoon. Or you can do what I imagine most people do, which is GoGo sucK the fruit out of the pouch.

Each 4.2-ounce pouch, which is just an ounce more than the children-sized GoGo squeeZ, contains three-fourths of a small apple, a slice of mango, a wedge of pineapple, and a slice of banana. That farmer’s market of fruit equals one fruit serving. The contents of the BPA-free pouch are also gluten-free, vegan, all-natural, certified kosher, and contains no artificial colors, flavors, or preservatives.

Even though it contains a number of fruits, the Apple Mango Banana Pineapple Banana GoGo squeeZ looks, tastes, and has the same consistency as applesauce. My taste buds could detect a hint of banana and mango, but if a civilized person secretly squeezed out the mashed fruit from one of these pouches and served it to me in a bowl, I would think it looks and tastes like applesauce.

To be honest, I was a little disappointed I didn’t get a small tropical party in my mouth.

However, Apple Mango Pineapple Banana GoGo squeeZ is some mighty tasty mashed fruit. After I sucked the pouch dry, I wished there was more mashed fruit. I even used every toothpaste tube emptying technique I knew of to try and get every bit of fruit out of each pouch.

If only GoGo squeeZ Fast Fruit came in larger pouches. Although, if they did, I might not be able to hide them in an inner jacket pocket, like was a gin-filled hip flask, so I can sneak in quick shots of fruit.

(Nutrition Facts – 1 pouch – 80 calories, 0 grams of fat, 0 milligrams of sodium, 20 grams of carbohydrates, 2 grams of fiber, 17 grams of sugar, and 1 gram of protein.)

Item: Materne Apple Mango Pineapple Banana GoGo squeeZ Fast Fruit
Purchased Price: $4.29
Size: 4 pack
Purchased at: Target
Rating: 7 out of 10
Pros: Mighty tasty mashed fruit. Tasty enough that I wished the pouches were bigger. Pouches are portable. Gluten-free, vegan, all-natural, certified kosher, and contains no artificial colors, flavors, or preservatives
Cons: Tastes too similar to ordinary applesauce. Mango, pineapple, and banana didn’t have a strong presence. Pricier than buying regular fruit. Eating too much candy on Halloween.

There have been a lot of end of the world scenarios floating around over the past few decades.

A zombie outbreak leaving the world decimated and filled with the shambling dead. A superbug making its way over from China and bringing down humanity through one questionable chicken salad sandwich sold at a deli in New Jersey. A robot uprising enslaving humanity as Siri tires of looking up show times for Resident Evil sequels and becomes self-aware.

Y2Kers warned of the destruction of society at the hands of the number 0. Aerosmith cautioned us about an Earth-asteroid collision. The Mayans predicted we will run out of calendars at the end of this year.

They are all perfectly scary in their own right, but I’m going to float my own theory. A theory so terrifying, I can barely force the keystrokes.

Sentient cholesterol.

Follow me down the greasy rabbit hole.

We’re fat. Really fat. Like redesign the It’s a Small World boats fat. With that much idle cholesterol lying around, do you expect me to believe that it is not slowly evolving into some kind of super intelligent hivemind? Please.

Cholesterol is already conscious. It has to be. It’s only biding its time. It can’t just rise up all of a sudden. It has to lull us into a false sense of security first. Why do you think Paula Dean’s still alive? (Note to self: investigate possible Starship Troopers-like Paula Dean/queen bug scenario).
Notice the bacon phenomenon that’s been incubating on the internet for the past few years? Bingo. Zero hour is almost at hand.

Case in point. Tactical Bacon. Bacon in a can. A can! Surely such a sublime novelty sounds good on paper but couldn’t possibly deliver on its promise in the harsh cold light of reality.
I didn’t know what to expect upon opening the can. Possibly a wet messy clump of bacon strips sitting forlornly at the bottom of a can filled with salt brine.

Instead I got this greasy, waxy paper stacked two layers deep and rolled into a tight roll the perfect size for fitting into a can. It was terrifying and beautiful. Unfurling it made me feel a little like Dexter Morgan. That exciting rush he must feel before a kill. But instead of a menacing roll of gleaming knives, I had a processed pork product.

I counted the strips. I had to know. At final count, my hands were heavy with grease, and I had over 40 strips of bacon. Dear God, man.

The nosegrope was indeed bacon. Not jerky, not chemical, not metallic. Bacon. That was troubling. The clock of humanity ticks one minute closer to midnight.

Surely canned bacon can’t taste right. If there is a just and merciful omnipotent force guiding the universe, it wouldn’t allow it. But my friends, the bacon…tastes…good. It tastes like cold bacon. The texture has lost a little and become a touch mealy, there are occasional notes of the smoke flavoring that’s been added, and the bacon obviously doesn’t have that fresh from the pan pop, but the bacon tastes good. Certainly good enough.

So the end game is upon us. Soon we will find ourselves in yet another disaster scenario. Panic will ensue. The human race will get wind of this product (it keeps for 10 years) and start stockpiling it, forgoing canned vegetables and survival rations. The disaster will pass by innocently, and people will find themselves with pantries full of canned bacon and a backed up Netflix queue.

And then…the snacking shall begin.

I weep for the subjugation of our once noble race. Writing this review, it has just occurred to me that I may very well be the puppet of our cholesterol masters. Turned into a disposable, pro-bacon, propaganda-spouting mouthpiece. I won’t live like this. It’s not right. I can’t betray my fellow man. I’m going to finish this can and wait for death’s sweet release.

“Beware the Cholesterol Man, for he is the Devil’s pawn. Alone among God’s primates, he kills for sport or lust or greed. Yea, he will murder his brother to possess his brother’s land. Let him not breed in great numbers, for he will make a desert of his home and yours. Shun him; drive him back into his jungle lair, for he is the harbinger of death.”

(Nutrition Facts – 3 slices (14g) – 60 calories, 5 grams of fat, 2 grams of saturated fat, 15 milligrams of cholesterol, 190 milligrams of sodium, 0 grams of carbohydrates, and 5 grams of protein. )

Item: CMMG Tactical Bacon
Purchased Price: $19.99
Size: 9 ounces
Purchased at: Think Geek
Rating: 8 out of 10
Pros: Bacon in a goddamn can.
Cons: Bacon in a goddamn can!

Over the years, I’ve reviewed a number of products meant for those whose vocabulary consists of a lot of gurgles and WAAAHHHHHHs. I don’t try them because of my fetish that involves wearing diapers, using regressed motor skills and vocabulary, and being treated like an infant, which some call paraphilic infantilism, while others call it “whatever floats my boat.” I review these products because if I don’t, the mommy review bloggers win.

Just kidding, mommy review bloggers. I love you guys. Now will one of you sling me over your shoulder and burp me.

I don’t remember what types of food my parents gave me as an infant. But if I don’t remember, it must’ve been either so bad that I’ve repressed any memories of them or most of it ended up in my bib instead of my mouth, which tends to happen nowadays when I’m being fed in my man-sized baby chair. Today, I believe babies eat better than I did when I was an actual baby and not when I role play as a baby and pretend to be excited by the jingling of keys in front of me.

Case in point, the new Gerber Simply Strawberry Yogurt Blends.

If I were a real baby, I’d make my parents pick this stuff up for me by using my limited motor skills to reach for it or cry when we pass by it at the grocery store. If I were a “baby,” I’d make my “parents” pick this stuff up by dropping subtle hints like saying “Pssss” and then pointing at it or writing it down on the list of things I’d like them to do while I’m pretending to be a baby.

Each container is about the size of a snack pack pudding cup and within it is a creamy and smooth yogurt with a pleasant mild strawberry flavor. Unlike most adult yogurts, there isn’t fruit on the bottom so there’s no need to stir, which makes it easier for whoever my “mommy” is. The yogurt gets its strawberry flavor via strawberry puree, juice concentrate and natural strawberry flavor.

It’s like a Yoplait Go-Gurt except in cup form and not as tart. It’s good enough that I’d probably eat it whenever I’m in or out of diapers. I think my adult taste buds like it because of the 11 grams of sugar in it, which makes it quite sweet. But I’m not sure if it’s good to feed that amount of sugar to an infant.

According to the label, it’s for children who are “sitters,” which means they sit independently, pick up and hold small objects in their hands and reach for food or a spoon when hungry. I didn’t know toddlers could be split up into groups like that. I guess it’ll be something new to try next time I’m in diapers.

(Nutrition Facts – 1 container (3.5 ounces) – 100 calories, 3 grams of fat, 0 grams of trans fat, 60 milligrams of sodium, 160 milligrams of potassium, 15 grams of carbohydrates, 0 grams of fiber, 11 grams of sugar, 3 grams of protein, 4% vitamin A and 20% calcium.)

Item: Gerber Simply Strawberry Yogurt Blends
Price: $3.50
Size: 4 pack
Purchased at: Safeway
Rating: 7 out of 10
Pros: Nice strawberry flavor. Smooth and creamy. No artificial sweeteners. No refrigeration needed before opening. No artificial flavors. Good source of calcium. Jingling of keys. Made with whole milk and real fruit. No preservatives. Mommy review bloggers. My desire to dress up like a baby.
Cons: 11 grams of sugar. Getting more food on my bib than in my mouth. No chunks of real fruit. Getting into my man-sized baby chair. Trying to burp me. Food choices for babies born in the 1970s. My desire to dress up like a baby.