Brunberg Lakritsi Alku

What better way to start the new year than with salmiac? Actually, that was a rhetorical question. Technically, it's impossible to answer since it would encompass every known and unknown activity in the entire universe.

The salmiac I opted for today was the Alku Lakritsi from Brunberg. It was one of those tar-textured ones I've become so un-fond of.

Expecting the worst, I carefully nibbled on the bite-sized piece, making sure not to get the gooey tar embedded in my teeth. I was surprised to find a dark caramely taste with a strong hint of liquorice. The texture and taste reminded me of a circus peanut, though not nearly as sweet – and there was little, if any, salt to be found.

It was a fairly pleasant taste... though after the last one, I suppose anything would be. I had a few other pieces before reminding myself that one of my new years resolutions was learning portion control, and so I stopped. And I suppose that was a good thing – the salt found its way back a few minutes later.

None the less, the Lakritsi Alku earns the coveted halfway-decent rating.

Katjes Lakrtiz Batzen

I was at a German store a little while back in search of some good candy like Kinder Bueno, Hanuta, and of course, Brause-Stäbchen. But as I browsed the confections, I was surprised to see my least-favorite Finnish export. Then again, I suppose it makes sense with Katjes being a German company and all.

   

The spongy texture of the Lakritz Batzen seemed welcoming, while the crusty white particulate was daunting. Sugar or salt was the question on my mind as I popped a couple candies in my mouth… and to my delight, it was mostly sugar. In fact, I’m not even sure where the salt was; it was subtle, at best. So much so that I had to double check the ingredients on the back of the package.

The listing confirmed that it was, indeed, officially salmiac, and despite this I still rate the Lakrtiz Batzen as halfway decent.

Apteekkarin Pehmeä Salmiakkipastilli

A font can say a lot of things about your brand. If you choose Comic Sans, you’re basically saying I don’t even take myself seriously. Papyrus, on the other hand, tells people that you’re doing the old-age/new-age thing, and that you might be Asian, Egyptian, or even African.

On the same note, Apteekkarin’s choice of a Blackletter/Gothic font (along with an illustration of the grand inquisitor himself) says one thing very loudly: the contents of this package were originally designed as a medieval torture device.

Despite this scary looking design and bright red warning ("VAIN APTEEKISTA", which translates to "DO NOT EAT"), I opened up the package.

Never sure of whether I'll find sugar or salt, I popped one of the jelly-textured drops in my mouth and prepared for the worst. Surprisingly, I didn't gag or even immediately spit these out. The mild licorice taste slowly transitioned to a menthol flavor, and after a chewing for about a minute, a subtle salty flavor cropped up. It wasn't too bad at all.

I had another, and then another... and next thing I knew, the bag was empty! That's an extremely rare occurrence here on Salmiyuck and, as such, earns this Salmiakkipastilli the halfway-decent rating. Keep in mind that I'm fairly tolerable of menthol flavors, so you may find these much worse than I did.

Salmiakkikossu

Several weeks ago, I ruined a perfectly good bottle of Grey Goose vodka and turned it into Salmiakkikossu.

I'm not going to lie. The thing scared me. It sat in the office freezer, taunting me every time I walked by. Drink me, it would call, dddrrrriiinnnnnkkkkk meeeee, I dare you to.

There were a few days I felt up to the challenge, but when I opened up the bottle, the smell of burnt liquorice and the thick, syrupy texture made me change my mind. I'll do it tomorrow, I'd tell myself as I corked the bottle of black death and hid it away in the freezer.

Well the time has finally come, and you can once again thank my dear friend Matti Nikki. Well, "friend" is a bit strong of a word... perhaps enabler or wisher-of-serious-pain-and-bodily-harm is a more apt descriptor. Matti encouraged me to go for the goose, and this is what he was referring to.

I felt this taste test called for two trials: sipping Salmiakkikossu while sober, and then drinking it while drunk. After all, nothing makes things taste better than a healthy state of inebration.

I learned some good lessons that night.

1. Scotch and Salmiakkikossu don't pair very well
2. Salmiakkikossu causes severe - and I mean severe - feeling of dehydration
3. When sleeping on the conference room floor, it's best to lay under the table; it's hard for the cleaning staff to vacuum around you otherwise
4. Laying face-down on the cheap, commercial-grade carpet causes a severe case of carpet-face that takes two full days to clear up

As for the Salmiakkikossu, it wasn't that bad... and it got better the more I drank it. The homemade variety wasn't as good, but both had a sweet and spicy flavor, not unlike sambuca or ouzo. The salt comes in much later, and it comes in fury.

Overall, it deserves a conditional halfway-decent rating: drink only while already sufficiently liquored-up.

Katjes Salty Fish

It's been a rough couple weeks. I've come to learn firsthand that crushed-up Turkin Pippuri is incredibly toxic, and causes the unavoidable side-effect of not wanting anything to do with Salmiac. But I'm over that now, and am ready for another step in this salty sojurn.

Katjes Salty Fish seemed like the ideal re-introduction to Salmiac. "Wanna enjoy the real sea side feeling?" the back of the package read, "Then get yourself blown away by these little liquorice fish! They come with tis special portion of salmiak salt and are a unique liqorice experience... sooo salty!"

Seeing something covered with that much salt is troubling. If my Dragster Super Salta experience taught me anything, it's that salt can be painful... nay, torturous. Tasting one of these fish was not something I looked forward to.

Nonetheless, I dived straight in the deep in popped one in. Expecting to last two, maybe three seconds, I was surprised to find that, not only did I not spit it out, but I started chewing it. And I kept going. And then I had another. And another. In fact, I ate the entire pile of pictured fish -- that's seven in total.

I don't know what to say, and quite frankly, I'm a bit scared. The salmiac dust must have mutated my DNA and permanently perverted my palate. And as a result of this, the Katjes Salty Fish earned the highest rating given to date on Salmiyuck!: halfway decent.

Jenkki Frozn

I am surprised. Nay, I'm astonished. No, no... flabbergasted! Err, actually...  there's not a word in the English language that describes my sentiment after trying the Jenkki Frozn salmiac.

Brace your self, dear readers: the Jenkki Frozn salmiac gum is not only edible, but I'm still chewing on it as I type this very message.



And just to be clear, I have not yet intentionally seared my tongue in a desperate attempt to save pain on my quest for salmiakki. My sinuses are not blocked and I can smell scents as well as ever. And so far as I can tell, I still have functioning tastebuds.

When I opened the bag of Frozn gum, I was assaulted with the unmistakable aroma of menthol. If there was any doubt that my sinuses were clogged, a whiff of Frozn would have cleared them out. Like any other Finnish candy, I was a little hesitant to bite down on the gum, but decided to go all in. I chomped down on two of the square pieces and began to chew.

Within moments, my whole being was infused with menthol, almost as if I had taken a swim in a lake filled with Halls Coughdrops. But it wasn't unpleasant - it was actually soothing. Any hint of that dreaded salt flavor that accompanies Salmiac was overpowered by the intense menthol flavor.

And as far as gum goes, this one holds its flavor; I'm still chewing it and, while it doesn't have the same methol kick, the flavor is still there.

This rates as edible and halfway-decent!