Yaokin Ebi Mayo and Chicken Curry Umai Bo

You can probably tell that the one on the left is the chicken curry since there's a picture of a chicken on the package, but I'm going to tell you anyway because I'm pedantic like that.

Today's items come to you (and me) courtesy of Skoshbox. These were part of the monthly goodie box that they sent me a free sample of and reviewed last week. 

When I was a kid, growing up in a run-down rural area of Western Pennsylvania, my parents used to "go out" in the only manner in which someone could in the area in which we lived. The only type of social experience that one could have there was at one of several little watering holes. There weren't any restaurants in the town, at least not at that time. You could go out and eat frozen, deep-fried food out of a plastic basket lined with paper and have a beer, you could stay home, or you could drive about a half hour to an hour away and look for something marginally better. 

My sister and I were too young to go out with our parents, and I imagine it would have been a colossal bore if we had; no kid wants to sit around a dark, dank, smoky room while a bunch of men and a handful of women get either quietly or noisily drunk. The highlight of my parents going out was that they'd often placate us for sitting at home with a babysitter who we hated (and we hated all of them) by bringing back tiny bags of Wise potato chips. I remember being happy when my mother would hand over 1 oz. bags of barbecue chips, and annoyed when she'd pony up plain ones.

For me, Wise brand potato chips are indelibly linked to my childhood. It's not only because they were something that I only ate as a kid, but also that they are associated with the region I grew up in. You can't get them in California. I'm guessing that, similarly, Japanese kids might connect their youth with Yaokin's umai bo. It's a salty snack "stick" which is made of puffed corn, comes in a variety of flavors and costs about 10-20 yen a stick, depending on whether you buy them individually or as part of multi-packs.

The fact that these are designed for kids is clear based on the colorful cartoon designs on the outside as well as the fact that no calorie or nutrition data is included. Kids, after all, do not have to worry about calories, right? That doesn't mean they aren't good for adults, though. It's not like there aren't people of all ages out there who are still eating Cap'n Crunch. 

Sorry for the blue cast. My photo taking situation is a bit odd at present.

The ebi mayo (shrimp mayonnaise) stick was the one I started with because I am not a fan of shrimp and I wanted to get the one I was least likely to enjoy out of the way first. I gave it a sniff, twice, and my suspicion that this was going to be very "fishy", or perhaps more accurately, "seafoody" was confirmed. I was encouraged, however, by the large amount of red powder on the outside. I associate that with "hot" and "spicy", but, on second thought, I figured that it is also a color that may be associated with, well, shrimp.

Though this smelled incredibly strongly of shrimp, the actual flavor was more balanced than I expected. The mayonnaise aspect was much more present than the shrimp. It had a nice savory undertone and was ever so slightly sweet as well as salty. Even though I hate shrimp, I really didn't have a problem with this. While I wouldn't seek it out, I wouldn't turn my nose up at it either.

The chicken curry was something I was actually looking forward to as I love both flavors. Just as was the case with the shrimp mayo version, the animal product portion of this was muted next to the other flavoring. Curry is definitely the dominant flavor. In fact, this tasted very much like Japanese curry roux. That is not to be confused in any way with Indian curry, but it is a nice flavor. This has curry flavor on top with a savory undertone and a little sweetness. 

The "umai bo" series of snacks is not meant for adults, but is marketed toward children. To that end, these are not snacks with serious flavor depth or intense or strong flavors. They are still very, very tasty and have a nice, almost fresh, corn flavor with good crunch. I like how airy these types of snacks are. They're giving you texture and the illusion of volume, but are not especially filling. 

I like these, even the shrimp one, and I hate shrimp. This is the sort of thing which I will always associate with life in Japan and a childhood there which I didn't actually experience. They're light, tasty, crispy, and portion-controlled. They're pure junk, of course, but a little junk now and then is unlikely to send anyone to an early grave.

Kameda Seika Togarashi Mayonnaise Rice Snack

Since I was a psychology major and continue to study psychology of my own volition to this day, I often run across various studies and theories about human behavior. One of them is that choice is good for people, but too much choice is very stressful for them. Having three types of chip to choose from is good. Having 20 is just going to make you stand in the aisle biting your nails trying to decide what to buy.

Apparently, most American manufacturers don't know about such studies as there are eleventy-billion (that's an "imaginary number" in every sense of the term) varieties of everything back home. How fortunate for me that I live in Japan where the only thing they saturate me with choice about are fish, tofu, panty fetish items and anime characters, none of which is of any particular interest to me. While there may be a ton of Kit-Kat flavors, more than three are rarely offered at once. These "Okome Kitchen" ("Rice Kitchen"), a brand made by my favorite sembei maker Kameda Seika, snacks come in three varieties, too. I found these on the shelf at a little market near my house for 100 yen ($1.24) per bag and had my pick from among red pepper and mayo, garlic and black pepper, and wasabi and salt. I choose the mayo because I figured it'd be the hardest child to love in this little snack family.

A good whiff of the freshly opened bag gives you the familiar scent of mayonnaise, as should be expected. The first bite, as is so often the case, is the best because you get the depth of flavor most acutely with a clean palate. The flavor of Japanese mayonnaise with it's eggy and rich taste comes through potently, but not overwhelmingly followed by a nice spicy hit of red pepper. The blending of these two components is damn near perfect as the mayonnaise taste is cleaved beautifully by the pepper's heat. There are also some savory flavors added in to provide a better backdrop including cheese, vinegar, pepper, chicken and seafood. These components don't come through as individual tastes, but as a melange of seasoning. This blending of savory spices with hot pepper stops this from tasting like you're sucking on a tube of mayonnaise.

The chips are light and cripsy and have the feel of being baked rather than fried, though vegetable oil is the third ingredient after rice and rice flour. This is like a cross between sembei (rice cracker) and a processed potato snack, but in a good way. They're a bit on the smallish side, at about half the size of a standard chip,  so it's easy to find yourself popping two or three in your mouth at once. Fortunately, the entire 60 gram (about 2 oz.) bag is only around 300 calories so you can indulge fairly freely without paying too heavy a price.

I was surprised that I really enjoyed these. I think mayonnaise flavoring is something which is quite easy to overdo and get very wrong, but felt this was well-balanced. While I can't say I was over-the-moon about these such that I'd be buying them again and again until they're taken off the market (and ultimately, they won't be around because that's the way it is in Japan), but I'd definitely buy them again.

Pringles Mayonnaise Potato

I've never "got" the appeal of Pringles. If you are so incredibly anal retentive or compulsive that you'd rather eat a processed pressed foodstuff that has the consistency of sawdust held together with potato starch, then maybe you should consider whether or not salted snacks are simply too unpredictable for your nature. Perhaps you'd prefer some nice, perfectly shaped Anafranil tablets.

I can't recall ever buying a can of Pringles of my own volition, but I got this small (40 gram/1.41 oz.) can of mayonnaise potato Pringles from my Okashi no Machioka "lucky bag". Note that they have to say these are  "potato flavored" because they know these aren't real potato chips. I imagine that if one were inclined to buy these, they'd cost about 100 yen ($1.22) for a can.

Though Pringles are usually stacked fairly evenly, this can is only partially filled so they are turned over on their side. I guess they wouldn't do for really compulsive sorts, but they're okay for someone like me who is indifferent to them in any form. After regarding the contents with mild disdain, I gave them a try. They smell like normal Pringles. It's that cooked processed potato substance scent. There's also a slight hint of what I'm sure passes for mayonnaise.

The salt from the first chip hit an irritated spot on my throat and sent me into a coughing fit, but I didn't hold that against it. No, I held the fact that it had a very strong and spicy mayonnaise flavor against it. The first chip really came across as bordering on overbearing. By the second chip though, the mayonnaise flavor mellowed out. Clearly taste buds become acclimated rapidly to faux mayonnaise flavors. After that, they tasted like slightly spicy Pringles. The ingredients include whey powder (yum, yum), garlic, butter, cheese, and corn syrup. Mayonnaise is nowhere in the list.

These aren't horrendous or anything. I just don't like Pringles and the mayonnaise flavoring does nothing to make these more appealing, and spending 206 calories on this small portion of them isn't something I'd choose to do. My guess is that their future is to sit in my basket of partially consumed snacks for a couple of months. I'll eat a chip or two once in awhile and then remember that I didn't especially care for them in the first place. Eventually, they'll go stale and I'll throw the rest out. Such will be my utter indifference to them.

Random Weekend Picture 14

There are many mobile food seller carts in Tokyo, especially in the summer. This one is selling takoyaki or octopus dumplings (often waggishly referred to as "octopus balls"). There are a variety of ways to make them, and you can read some of the ingredients at the linked Wikipedia page. Special pans and kitchen gadgets are sold to make takoyaki at home, but most people buy it from supermarket delis or these sorts of stalls. Notice that there are 3 mayonnaise tubes sitting on the prep area (one nearly empty on the far side of the table, and two new ones in the foreground). The Japanese do love their mayonnaise. Oddly, I have never tried takoyaki, but it is one of those things I really should get around to trying.

My husband took this picture at a shrine on New Year's Eve several years ago. He loved catching a shot of the guy slumbering in the background, particularly since this picture was taken in the mid-morning.

Calbee Jaga Rico Tuna Mayo

When I was working in an office, I used to pick up plain Jaga Rico potato sticks as a substitute for potato chips. I'm not sure why I felt they were better for me than chips, but I believe that eating a whole cup of these tends to set you back about 290 calories (for 58 grams/2 oz.) whereas a bag of chips is about 450. I'm guessing it was pure portion control rather than any actual reduction in calories that made these less calorically dense. These sticks are hollow, so you get the illusion of eating more of them while consuming less volume.

This line of products by Calbee portrays a cartoon giraffe as its mascot. If you go to their web site, you can see various permutations of their cute long-necked buddy. I'm guessing they chose a giraffe because the long neck on it is reminiscent of the long, straw-like potato snacks.


Previously, I reviewed the umeboshi (sour plum) jaga rico potato sticks and was unimpressed. It wasn't that there was anything wrong with them, but rather that the flavor was so weak that I could barely taste the sour plum. I found this tuna mayonnaise flavor at a local supermarket for 128 yen ($1.44). There seemed to be quite a bloom in flavors, but this was the one I was most attracted to because I love tuna salad.

An illustration on the cup says that the tuna flavor has been enhanced on this, but you can't smell it when you give it a sniff. At first, I tasted the same sort of greasy flavor that comes along with the plain jaga rico flavor, then a mayonnaise flavor. The tuna comes through only at the very end as a faint aftertaste. I'm not sure how much they enhanced the tuna taste, but it wasn't enough. These are super crunchy, and not too salty.

They're not bad, but just like the umeboshi potato sticks of the same brand, these just don't carry enough flavor. That greasy taste that is carried at the start is a bit off-putting as well. I didn't hate these by a long shot, but I didn't love them. I'll certainly slowly make my way through the foil-lined cup of these sticks, but I wouldn't buy them again.

Baked Mayonnaise Arare Sembei

When I reviewed the Mayo Mania corn snack, I talked about the fact that Japanese people adore mayonnaise to an almost scary extent. Lest you think that weird mayo snack was an anomaly, I bring you mayonnaise-flavored sembei from the fine folks at Kameda Seika. In fact, I had quite a snack spending spree at the market when I picked these up. It was like the new fall flavors for everyone were out and I had so much new stuff to try that I ended up loading up on new junk food.


Of course, part of the reason new flavors are out is that autumn is on our doorstep and that means chestnut and sweet potato treats will be out in full force. I'm not sure how mayonnaise figures into the fall equation, but maybe it has to do with getting fattened up for colder weather... not that the Japanese seem to get any fatter no matter what they eat. I don't know what the secret is, but let's say that I'm glad that this bag of sembei came in 6 (15 gram/.5 oz.) snack-size packets containing only 71 calories each. I do not have the Japanese metabolism for mayonnaise consumption.


Unfortunately, a half ounce really isn't much. The amount you see pictured above is the contents of one packet. The longest piece is about 4 cm. (1.5 in.) long and there are only about 6 of them per bag. Since these are "arare" type sembei, they are craggy and quite crunchy. The texture of these is very satisfying and they certainly do not feel baked in any way. They're greasy and left a residue on the tissue that I put them on for picture taking.

These smell like mayonnaise, though the scent isn't overwhelming. The first bite reveals the highest concentration of mayonnaise flavor, but these aren't like the Mayo Mania rings because those tasted like eating right out of the condiment jar. This is more of a mixed flavor and the mayonnaise taste becomes less prominent the more you eat. By the end of my packet, I was noticing the other seasonings and the familiar taste of sembei more than the mayo. These are nicely savory and include the flavors of parsley, cheese, and vinegar.

I really liked these, and had to resist opening up another packet. That being said, I can't give these a "very happy" rating because I think that mayonnaise is a flavor which I can't quite get that excited about. I also think that, while I'd buy these again, I wouldn't do so often because I could only see turning to these if I was in a particular mood. If you adore mayonnaise though, these are certainly going to please you. If you like it, you might want to sample these once for fun. You'll almost certainly like them unless you hate mayo.

Mayo Mania Corn Snacks

When you think of big mayonnaise eaters, my guess is that the majority of people are not thinking of all the trim Japanese people walking around in their smart business clothes or even the tiny geisha in their kimono. I'm guessing the only Japanese people most Western folks envision scarfing down the mayonnaise are sumo wrestlers. The truth is so much more disturbing than most people realize.

The Japanese love mayonnaise. There is even a fan club called "We Love Mayo!" If you look at the bag pictured above, you see a graphic of someone pouring a tube of mayo right into his mouth. On the back of the bag (not pictured), there's another graphic of a man squirting two tubes of mayo into his mouth. This actually is an attractive notion to some Japanese people. Personally, I would find having to eat mayo straight from the bottle/tube a form of torture. That's not to say that I don't like mayo. I do like to put a bit of light mayonnaise on some types of sandwiches, but my appreciation ends there. It's a condiment, not a meal and I'd no sooner pour it straight into my mouth than I'd drink from a ketchup bottle.

In the interest of snack food testing, and because I can't resist some weird ass foods, I bought this Mayo Mania corn snack at a Family Mart convenience store. It cost about 120 yen ($1.22) for 60 grams (2.1 oz.). The whole bag is 319 calories. This is the regular mayo flavor, but there is also a version with a blue bag which is "tuna mayo" that was not in stock.


The rings look a lot like Funyuns. They also have a similar light crispy texture to those same processed onion rings. Since both Mayo Mania and Funyuns are made by Frito Lay, this is no surprise. Opening the bag is a bit like huffing a jar or mayonnaise, the smell hits you pretty clearly though the smell isn't nearly as potent as the taste. These taste like eating a spoon full of mayonnaise with a spicy chaser at the end. The front of the bag proudly boasts that the flavor has been doubled in intensity, and boy howdy, do I believe it.

I ate these along with a chicken sandwich (which I intentionally left the mayonnaise off of) in order to dilute the experience and it was still pretty overwhelming. These are good. The saltiness, crunch, and added spicy heat are nice, but the mayo flavor is so strong that I couldn't see trying them again nor wold I recommend them to any but the most ardent lovers of mayonnaise.