I think by now, if you’re reading this, you know I have a bit of a sweet-tooth.
And by ‘a bit’ I mean ‘a lot’.
So when my local store brings out some new spread that tastes like goddamn honest-to-god biscuits (or cookies, for you Americans and web developers), well, what’s a boy to do but slap down $5 of my hard-earned cash to perform some sweet, sweet, biscuitty science?
STRAIGHT OUT OF THE JAR
Well fuck my asshole and call me Riley Reid, this shit tastes like a pack of Milk Arrowroots just came in my mouth. The consistency can be described as the lovechild between Nutella and peanut butter. Gooey, but you couldn’t sculpt a circus tent out of it or anything.
I got whatever bread was lying around. I’m not spending $2 on some punk-ass white bread just to justify an article. 5 Grains it is.
Then I got stuck.
“It’s a sweet spread.” I thought to myself. “So I don’t need butter on it.”
“But I use butter with jam. Hell, sometimes I’ll eat buttered toast like a savage.”
I decided to throw caution to the wind and try both.
Without butter, it was… a bit much. I may as well have just eaten it out of the jar for all the difference the bread made. It turned into paste into my mouth, but it wasn’t like peanut butter where it stays there for 10 years and everything you eat after that somehow tastes like peanuts.
With butter? Now there’s some fine eating. The savouriness of the butter cut through the biscuit and sugar and made the sweetness of the whole ordeal bearable. My grandparents used to feed me and my brother milk arrowroots with butter. This was that in bread form.
I have come to the conclusion that Biscoff is pretty fucking rad and I recommend you try it.
DISCLAIMER: It goes downhill from here. If my girlfriend and close friends are reading this, please judge me as the man you know me as, not the one writing this blog entry.
ON A PB+J SANDWICH
Biscoff already tastes like goddamn diabetes. So adding it to a Peanut Butter and Jam sandwich tastes like how a diabetic coma must feel.
This shit conspired with the jam (Blackberry, if you care enough) and overpowered anything savoury about this whole experience.
Peanut butter? Nonexistant.
Butter? I Can’t Believe it Went Bye-Bye!
Granted, I slathered the Biscoff on like it was peanut butter, so perhaps a different mix is required to complement everything. I however, do not get my hopes up that the experience will be any different.
ON A PULLED CHICKEN SANDWICH
I am not a seasoned chef, nor am I a foodie. I can cook for sustenance, but if you’re looking for a gourmet meal, we’re going out.
Okay, fine. We’re ordering in the cheapest pizza I can find and adding as many coupons as I can.
This, along with an apparent subconscious yearning to drastically shorten my life expectancy, has led to me trying some weird shit.
I think I’ve hit my limit with this disasterpiece.
I made a chicken sandwich as I normally would: Chicken, some sort of greenery, cheese, aioli, and -learning from my experience from the PB+J, added “just enough” Biscoff to complement the dish.
If I could associate the taste with a moment in my life, it was like seeing Tony Hawk skate for the first time on TV after hearing how great of a skater he was, and watching him eat shit on the first run.
It was like coming to the realisation that the Jennifer Lopez movie ‘The Cell’ was less a thought-provoking police procedural and more a big pile of set-piece whoring wank.
It was like realising that I’m literally trying to poison myself for a few clicks on a blog nobody reads.
My life flashed before my eyes, is basically what I’m getting at.
My first mistake was adding Aioli. I love the shit, but it pretty much killed the whole thing.
My second mistake was adding a sweet spread to a savoury sandwich.
It was just gross. Lesson learned.
Not to be deterred to find a diamond in the rough. I had a bag of plain Doritos from a games night I ran a few months back. Originally I was gonna buy some corn relish, but that day my stomach sung a different tune.
Okay, it pretty much made a noise approximating a frustrated sigh and let me get on with trying to send myself into the hospital.
Recovering from the dubious mix of Aioli and Biscoff, I just dipped a corn chip straight into the jar. Realising it wasn’t corn relish, the chip promptly broke and I had to dig the rest out with a spoon.
Science isn’t always easy.
Unlike the other concoctions I tried, this one turned out a bit of alright! Much like that sweet and salty popcorn you can buy, both flavours complimented eachother rather well.
I wouldn’t replace it for salsa on Nachos, or for my heroin-like addiction to corn relish, but hey, a win’s a win.
I think after the chicken sandwich, I’ve seen all there is to see. I was contemplating sausages, or steak or something akin to a home-cooked meal, but that would just be not only re-creating the sweet + savoury combo found in the dorito experiment, but it’d be a waste of a perfectly good cheap meal.
I hypothesize, however, it would make a decent accompaniment to say, ice cream, or apple pie or something. Not so much a topping, but a side-piece akin to custard, or waffles or something.
But this is science for another day. Until then, I have to go get my stomach pumped and check my insulin levels.
Till next time…