Even though Hawaii is the 13th best travel destination in the world according to “Traveleye.com” (which apparently has such an eye for travel that they ranked Orlando, Florida number on the list), I’ve never been there, partly due to the fact that I am a shut-in whose alabaster skin crisps like bacon at even the faintest hint of sunlight. Nevertheless, as a food adventurer, I’m always looking to broaden my culinary horizons and venture across the Pacific to my neighbors in the west.
I started where any typical American tourist would go: The FAQ page of the Hawaii Tourism Authority website. Continue Reading »
Meh, I ingest enough chemicals as it is.
Ah, novelty sweets – not so much about the candy but the plastic/colorized/motorized container it’s in. From the ever illustrious Ring Pop to the classic Batman spin pop (because what’s more intimidating that the Dark Knight with a giant pink lollipop whirling around above his head), you’re essentially paying for the packaging over the pop. Hence, I had no qualms over dropped 50 cents on a set of suckers that are literally supported by a plastic tube filled with glowing chemicals. Continue Reading »
I’d like to think I’m somewhat of an Andrew Zimmern of the grocery store, but instead of indulging in durian (me: done), snake penis (me: maybe) and balut (me: no way), I sample possibly expired treats, discontinued finds and occasionally unfamiliar territory. Also, Mr. Zimmern – you owe me big time for blatantly advertising your show right there.
I’m not too familiar with Hispanic candies, though I’ve browsed through popular choices like hot & spicy mango lollipops and those little tubs of flavored powder at our local market (they also sell pork rinds [chicharones] here at big as your forearm – Atkins dieters rejoice). So as something that’s previously unfamiliar to me, I’ll be using Google and Wikipedia to do some research; I’m also writing this at 5am so it’s a bit of déjà vu from my college years. Continue Reading »
One of my cherished moments as a child was the neighborhood ice cream truck. And not just the truck itself – the thrill of hearing a constant repeat of “Pop Goes the Weasel”, “Turkey in the Straw” or the classic Scott Joplin piece “The Entertainer” becoming louder and louder as the truck traveled closer to my neighborhood. Mind you, the music didn’t mean we would be going to be visited by the truck, since our neighborhood was a looped dead-end that saw the truck less often than we did a new year.
When we (my brother and I) could confirm the truck was actually headed towards us, we made the mad dash of emptying pig banks, scraping through the couch and grabbing those quarters out of conveniently placed spare change dishes. Continue Reading »