Ribbon candy. We take it for granted. We've never understood it, but then, we've never really tried. It's just there; endlessly zapping Christmas cheer to the mouths of all with healthy teeth, it's just there. Categorizing something like ribbon candy is no easy task -- there's no other sweet quite like it, at least in texture if not taste. Sharp, brittle yet with a rocklike consistency and with only vaguely defined flavors, ribbon candy lives on as the most mysterious of the holiday staples. Some people like to eat mysteries, but today, I'd like to solve one. What's ribbon candy all about, yo?
The start of any great unraveling usually entails buying candy, and who am I to break tradition? Made by Sevigny's, this box of "thin ribbon candy" makes me wonder if Sevigny's also sells "thick ribbon candy." A quick glance at the nutrition fact label proves ribbon candy to be one of the healthiest treats on the Christmas market. No fat, no sodium, and just a few minor rumblings of carbs and calories. Now I understand why I've never particularly liked ribbon candy -- it's got none of the good stuff. Just loads of corn syrup, Yellow #5, Yellow #6, Blue #1, Red #3, Red #40 and YES...these are really on the ingredients list. There should be some kind of condensed code-word for those. "Various Prettifiers" or something.
Check out the teaser, printed in festive green on the boxback: "Ribbon Candy is spun into a delicious, thin, delicate and fragile ribbon. For this reason we cannot guarantee this product against breakage." Man, what a stupid thing to openly admit. First of all, if someone was ballsy enough to return broken ribbon candy, it'd be to the store they bought it at. Nobody was going to prepare a UPS package for Sevigny's, much less locate their criminally hidden secret underground lab address. And it's not like we go taking back boxes of Ritz crackers when they're all crushed up. 99.9999% of the world just deals with things like that. Stupid Sevigny's.
The teaser then trails off into various suggestions, noting that you should NEVER NOT EVER refrigerate the candy. They seem particularly incensed about that; one must wonder what happens to Sevigny's Ribbon Candy when placed in a refrigerator. Does it explode? No, no fridges. Instead, they tell you to keep the candy in a "covered glass dish" or "tightly covered cake tin." See, the glass dish can just be sorta covered. Use a cake tin, and you better have that shit padlocked.
Now let's be honest -- ribbon candy doesn't taste all that great. It's also incredibly hard to bite and chew, and while brittle to the touch, it's like granite in your mouth. How such an edible survives on these traits is debatable, but a lot of it surely has to do with how handsome it is. If shitty food looks good, we'll usually try it. If shitty food looks like an alien swirly gemstone from Mars VI, how are we supposed to resist? Some colored ribbons seemed more desirable than others, and yes, there were faint differences in each chunk's flavor. Herein lied the key to our mystery. If I wanted to understand ribbon candy, I first had to separate each sliver by flavor. Aesthetics will only take us so far. Anyone can say "ooh I want the red one!" No, we needed more.
So, I sat there, biting away. Chewing, slowly chewing. Making inquisitive nose wiggles and tongue gestures. Some of the ribbons had very clear and easily identifiable tastes; with others, it was like trying to assign fruit flavors to different brands of liquid soap. As the strips shown above are the most typical color combinations and styles of ribbon candy, I felt it was my duty to....name those tastes.
There's my findings. My penmanship was only so bad 'cause my hands were so sticky, I swear. Here's my assessment of each newly crowned ribbon candy flavor:
Lemon Yellow: Inoffensive, if a bit waxy. Light Cinnamon: Yummy. Not too spicy, but hot enough to make me say WOW. Chocolate: Yeah, the white one was chocolate. I wasn't a fan.
Mint: One of the two-tone ribbons; adequate good taste. Orange Julius: IT'S LIKE A PICASSO IN MY MOUTH! Candy Cane: One of my favorites. This is how ribbon candy should be. Blue Lavender: Ick. It's like tonguing Grandma. Wax Lips: The beautiful crimson ribbon only tasted like a pair of wax lips, but it's still my favorite of the lot.
What have we learned? Well, this is one of those rare times that even I'm going to have to come out and admit that we've learned absolutely nothing. I don't feel any "closer" to ribbon candy having performed this experiment, unless you're asking if I feel closer in a literal sense. Definitely literally -- this shit's a part of my teeth now. Still, knowing the flavors doesn't mean we know the beast. I'd like to know the beast.
Coca-Cola's "I'd like to teach the world to sing!" commercials are fondly remembered by millions. The song seems pretty heavy-handed for something like soda, but it's catchy. I've seen a couple of Coke's commercials that use the jingle and play out more like really slow music videos, but this one is easily the best. With a Christmas motif, we start off with the usual shot of wacky kids and adults singing Coke's battle cry. As the camera pans out a bit, we notice something peculiar. It's not just wacky kids and adults. It's wacky kids, wacky adults and Mickey Mouse.
Disney has an impressive wealth of Christmas inspired toons, and as anyone who's visited the theme parks in December can tell you, they never skimp on the holiday cheer. Likewise, the costumed characters seen in this commercial, ranging from Mickey to Donald to Chip and Dale, are all seen decorating Christmas Trees and kissing each other under strands of mistletoe. It's definitely a feel-good ad; you don't have to even like Disney to siphon off some of the massive joy seen here. Coke itself has virtually no role in the commercial, so it's not boggled down with the requisite shots of Daisy Duck drinking a can or Pluto hanging up a big "COKE = CHRISTMAS" banner. Take off the soda part, and you're just left with this awesome, cheesy spectacle where man and beast join together to sing and dance and not wear jackets even though it's really cold out. Yeah.
Boy, Mickey's never looked happier. The trees and ornaments kinda obscure the view of his lower regions, so maybe something a lot filthier than the birth of Christ was going on. Oh, why did I have to do that. It's a great commercial -- actually, it's considered one of the best ever. I've seen tribute sites devoted entirely to this one ad, and while you probably won't follow suit in that gesture, I promise -- watching it will make you smile. Might make you want a Coke, too.
(click to enlarge)
12/3: EVIL CROW!
Well, we were hoping that Playmobil would give Mista Snowman a new pal, and I guess, technically, we got our wish.
The giftbox for December 4th included this very strange and decidedly evil crow. While only around the length of a quarter, the bird actually came in three pieces that had to be assembled first. Don't complain -- this is actually a good thing. It's up for you to decide what kind of evil crow you have. A fully functional one, or an evil crow that's been killed and dismembered. For Mista Snowman's sake, I've kept the bird alive and in one piece. Don't they look happy together?
Surely, this evil crow will play a much larger part in our story as more creatures emerge from Playmobil's silly calendar. If he's going to be a star player, I think he needs a name. "Evil Crow" has style, but it's just too impersonal. From now until Christmas, this flighty little beast shall be known as "Bird, the Evil Crow." What adventures await Mista Snowman and Bird? Perhaps we'll find out soon. Perhaps tomorrow.
