Scorched Rice Candy

A recent visitor to The Candy Bowl (the blog, not the candybowl) said to me "You know what ones I like? Those burnt rice ones that are supposed to taste like the rice at the bottom of the rice cooker."

Chinese call it guoba. Koreans call it nurungji. If you have a decent modern rice cooker, and use it correctly, you probably will not get it at all. But make rice in an old/cheap rice cooker, with too little water, or too much heat, or too much time, and you will get a tasty brown crust on the bottom that has flavor to die for (and I'm sure some kind of naturally occurring chemical to die from. But I digress).

This candy is meant to taste like scorched rice, and has a good approximation of that flavor. Some liken it to burnt popcorn. Not charred popcorn, but popped kernels with golden brown around the edges. Some people like it a lot, including me. Others, including a certain high-level functionary, do not like it at all.

It's a spheroid boiled sweet, with creases and lumps on the outside. But it has a nice fracture, sometimes cracking in half. It leaves a bit more residue on the molars than a candy this good ought to. But that's all the more reason to suck it. And although some think the flavor at the center is different from that on the outside, Candybowl can assure you that he has proven them wrong beyond doubt.

Despite its long tenure in the candybowl (with fresh stock added at reasonable intervals), you people have not been eating enough of this candy. Candybowl says to eat this candy. Or else.

CubyRop

This is one cute candy. Two small cubes, each of a different flavor. And the name -- CubyRop -- shimmers with Asian linguistic mystique, suggesting a malapropism that one simply can't put one's finger on. Not only that, but this bag of mixed fruit candies also promises interesting flavors -- Pasionfruit, Boysenberry, Muscat, Grapefruit and Lime.

Sadly, the fruit flavors not only are cloying and unrealistic, but also are overwhelmed by menthol notes that will be familiar to consumers of Hall's cough drops. There are five different flavor options, to be sure, but none of them taste like any fruit that Candybowl has eaten.

Moreover, considering that this candy is all about form, the number and variety of structural issues are surprising. First, the cube is rough-hewn, with rippled edges. Second, some of them have cloudy centers indicating, perhaps, that the sweet was not properly cooled, or they are damaged when they are cut into cubes. Finally, the cubes tend to stick together making many of these candies distinctly non-cubical (for these, RectangularprismRop would be a more accurate, if unwieldy, moniker).

The crunch test yielded mixed results. One cube was tough and gummy. The other disintegrated into a sandy paste, like a sugar cube. And this was two cubes from the same package!

Despite all these flaws, this is no tomato candy -- it's flavors are pleasant enough, and sweet like a sweet should be. But like so many things in life, the package makes promises that the contents can't keep.

Kanro Fruits & Milk, Fruits & Yogurt

Once again, the confectionary wizards at Kanro have delivered candies worth blogging about.

As the name implies, these are fruit candies with milk or yogurt added. The fruit flavor is realistic, although, as is common in mixed fruit candies, some (e.g. Mango) are more realistic than others (e.g., Grape).

Kanro's attention to detail extends to the candy's appearance as well. This boiled sweet has a good shape, and is two-toned, indicating that the milk/yogurt is separate from the fruit.

It releases a lot of flavor without biting, but like the tootsie-pop owl, Candybowl simply can't resist for long. The crunch is refined, fracturing nicely, and leaving just a small amount of residue on the tooth.

These sweet morsels have proven quite popular, and new supplies have been added to the candybowl. Just the thing to get the taste of Korean Red Ginseng Red Bean jelly candy out of your mouth. Try it now!

Korean Red Ginseng and Red Bean

Denizens of the candybowl will recall that the last red ginseng candy disappeared a number of months ago. The store from which they came stopped carrying them. It was therefore a pleasant surprise when Candybowl happened upon these at a local Korean superstore.

This candy overflows with flavor. From before opening the package straight through to the aftertaste, the dominant taste is fresh potting soil. All that, plus pleasant notes of musty ginseng and white lithium grease, make it a must try.

It's a jelly candy, stiffer than a gummy. Since it's quite a large piece, it's good to have a candy that holds together after one bite. Leave it behind at a crime scene, and you're bound to be identified from your bite marks (an especially stupid move if the crime itself involves bite marks).

With so much going for this candy, Candybowl finds it hard to believe anyone wouldn't finish it before fleeing from justice. So flee to the Candybowl and try one before they run out.