Fatalii Gourmet Naga Morich Salmiakkitoffee

It's that time of year again: gingerbread men, rum balls, eggnog, and Christmas-tree shaped sugar cookies. At least, in normal parts of the world. In Finland, December signifies the special time of year where parents torture their kids by giving extra terrible salty licorice treats.

My dear friend Matti Nikki decided that it was high time that I experience a Finnish Christmas, and sent me this early gift.

Matti suggested that I might even like it. "It's scored high on the recent Finnish Salmiakki Association's salmiakki picnic (3rd place)," he wrote, "even though the reviewers all thought the flavor of salmiakki was overpowered by the much stronger chili."

Well, I guess the facial expression featured on the wrapper is how Finns express deliciousness. I shared my thoughts for this special treat in a video:

It's not the absolute worst I've ever had, but it certainly earned a caustic rating.

Synkka Salmiakki

I can do hot. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not like one of those crazy people who rub peppers in my eyes, but I can handle the heat. Well, usually…

And of course, what you’re not seeing in the video (as it’s a solid 15 minutes after I tried these candies) is that my mouth is still on fire. These things pack some punch, much more than the hottest Tyrkisk Peber that I’ve tried so far. They’re fun, but certainly not fit for human consumption. Therefore, I must rate them caustic.


UPDATE: I shared some of the Synkka with my friends tonite. Unfortunately, I only realized it would have made a great video after it was too late. Suffice if to say, that their experience was quite a bit worse than mine; after spitting them out, they desperately tried to rid themselves of the heat with ice cubes. This will definitely make for a good social candy -- I'll try to capture some from some other suckers friends later.

Pääkallo Super Salmiakki

It's not a good sign when your salmiac is called "Super Salmiakki". But when it's shaped like a fricken skull, you know you're in trouble. In fact, if you ever come across this confectionary of salty death, I suggest you run - and run fast.

Or, if you're feeling extra sadistic, offer if to someone else. I obviously took the latter strategy, and the unfortunate "someone else" was our Japanese intern, Shun.

It's been a very interesting experience to work with someone from such a different culture, and one of the many things I've learned about the Japanese is that they are very, very polite. Unlike us westerners - who have no qualms about telling you just how much we hate something - Japanese people are generally more reserved. I figured this would be the perfect opportunity for a sociological expirment.

Clearly, this salmiac was just too strong for Shun's politeness, and he had no choice but to spit it out after experiencing a nearly intolerable amount of pain. Afterwards, he described it as "like a poison," which means that the pääkallo has earned the caustic rating.

Rainbow Tulinen Salmiakki (Eldig Salmiak)

I had a hard time identifying the maker of this particular brand of salmiak. That's usually not a good sign. Salmiak is bad enough on its own, and I can only imagine what the Pepper, M.D. of salmiak is like. I guess today's my lucky day, as I don't have to immagine anymore.

As a side note: leave it to generic salmiak to define "rainbow" as containing three colors: Green, Red, and Black. I'm pretty sure the latter is not even considered a color.

The Tulien Salmiakki started off like a normal hard candy: mostly flavorless with a touch of sweet. That's also a troubling sign for salmiac.

With a minute, I was overcome with a unique sensation, almost like that of an impending sneeze. As I continued "enjoying" this candy, a numbness started spreading throughout my mouth. That was followed by a slight tingling sensation. This is not the experience I'd expect from candy... which is yet another troubling sign.

Things went downhill quickly. My entire tongue went numb (yet, somehow started hurting), and the tingling sensation started spreading. In the exact opposite manner that menthol clears the sinuses, the Tulien led to a difficulty breathing. The numbing pain spread to my gums, teeth, and, well, just about everywhere else.

And then I bit down. Whatever unholy substance was amalgamated into this candy's outershell was in its purist form in the center. Pain doesn't even begin to describe what that sensation was like. Without bothering to look for a napkin, I expectorated this horrid concoction as quickly as possible. It took a full ten minutes for the pain to dissipate as well. Clearly, this candy earns the caustic label.

Dracula Piller

Now let's get one thing straight. Just because this is my second Salmiyuck! post this week does not mean that I'm starting enjoy it. If anything, I'm becoming more and more impressed at the things you Finns will not only voluntarily put in your mouth, but actually spend money on. Like, say, the Dracula Piller.

  

The artfully designed packaging is mostly transparent, allowing you to get a good glimpse of this candy before committing to it. Of course, I'd imagine that's to the manufacturer's detriment, as the Dracula Piller look about as appetizing as a rock.

Upon opening the package, I quickly discovered that Dracula Piller doesn't smell as bad as it looks. It smells worse. The best I could describe it: a mixture of burnt styrofoam, rotted wood, and smelling salts.

As for the taste... putting one of the candies on my tounge was just like licking a 9-volt battery, except more intense. This was the second salmiakki that proved that salt (or whatever unholy substance they have on these ones) can indeed be painful.

You'll notice the white candy to the right, which is the result of running it under water and scrubbing-off the coating. That, of course, I was able to eat... but I'm pretty sure that doesn't count. With the coating, these are clearly inedible and quite caustic.

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Update! I just returned from the Cleveland Oktoberfest, where I offered up the  Salmiac Challenge to some friends. Whoever could go the longest without spitting out the Dracula Piller would get the two-dollar bill that I laid out on the table (washed out in the picture).

About eight took up the challenge, and within seconds someone nearly vomited. "I know you said these were bad," he told me, "but I didn't think anything could be that bad!" And one after another, others dropped out and chugged their beers in hopes of killing the offensive taste.

But somehow, three people made it through the challenge: none of them Finns, but all of them women. And frankly, one thing that was particularly disturbing was that one of them was my wife! Had I known I'd married into a gene pool with such defective taste buds, perhaps I would have reconsidered. Let's just hope that broken 'buds are a recessive trait.

No matter, with the three-way tie, I forked over two more twos to the "winners". They certainly earned it.

Dragster 3000: Super Salta

I got an email form Matti Nikki yesterday demanding that I subject myself to more of this torment. "Please, please, please," he pleaded, "more salmiyuck stuff already!"

Matti is absolutely right; I have been grossly negligent in maintaining this almanac of Salmiac. But I have good reason: I’ve been on a diet! And if you don’t believe that, I’ve been working too much! And if you don’t believe that, my internet has been broken!

But no matter. It’s once again time for Salmiac, and today’s Salmiac was Dragster 3000 Super Salta. And why Dragster 3000 Super Salta, you probably aren’t asking? Well because that’s what Matti suggested.

“You'll hate them,” he wrote, “you'll hate them real bad. But I think the balance and amount of salt is perfect on them.”

What, me, hate Salmiac? Who would have thought!

As you can tell from the pictures, Dragster 3000 is not lying about being Super Salta. The enlarged image accurately captures the evil-looking texture of this piece of “candy.” It really does look like it could be a little-bitty sugared chocolate donut… or maybe a piece of debris found in a salt truck.

What the pictures do not – nor could never capture – is the taste. Interestingly enough, the Super Salta came on light with almost pleasant licorice flavor. I actually managed to make it through a half-bite of one of the “ring” pieces.

In fact, that first taste emboldened me to try more: I took the “circle” piece (filled with the salty center), placed it on a “ring” piece, and chomped down. While that, too, came on a bit weak, within moments I felt the full fury of all that is Salmiac.

If you didn’t think that you could taste pure pain, then you clearly haven’t had Super Salta. I’ve been scorched by cinnamon, burned by wasabi, scalded by hot peppers… and now assaulted by salt. It was a harrowing experience.

On or about my seventh chew, my gums felt as if they had been corroded by some horribly caustic substance… which, arguably, they had been. My tongue was not spared either and experienced a brutal stabbing sensation. Now I know what it’s like to gargle with sulfuric acid.

Tried as I might, I had to rush to the garbage can to expel this offensive “candy”, literally drawing tears as I ran. It goes without saying that the Dragster 3000 Super Salta is inedible. However, it’s the first (and hopefully one of the last) that also gets the title caustic.