D-Plus Hokkaido Cream Pastry Roll

Recently, I tried protein powder as a standalone product for the first time. I'm sure that I've consumed food which has had the equivalent of such supplements before, but this was my first experience with scooping it out and stirring it into a beverage in such a way that I could really taste it. Incidentally, I didn't buy it, but was given it free for review. I don't normally eat protein powder, but that's not the point I'm getting to anyway.

The protein powder had a particular familiar taste which I could not put my finger on for quite some time. I looked at the ingredients, the first of which related to peas, which I rarely eat and have an irrational dislike of because my mother tried to force-feed them to me when I was a kid, and there was nothing there to clue me in on why it should taste like some sense memory lodged deep in the memory banks of my aging brain. After giving up on pinpointing it, the answer came unbidden into my mind. It tasted like a much more intense version of the aftertaste from cheap vitamin fortified cereal, likely a Cheerios knock-off that I had in my impoverished upbringing. 

In a strange way, this made sense since I imagine one way in which cereal, which is really pretty bad for you, is "fortified" with nutrients is with vitamin powders. This protein powder had a similar taste profile. The weird thing was that the familiarity of it actually made it seem "better". It wasn't that it tasted good, nor that I had any sort of fond memory of that cereal, but just the fact that it was familiar made me like it more. Nostalgia is a potent modifier of experience.

That is a phrase that comes to mind because this Hokkaido Cream pastry roll, purchased at Daiso Japan for a modest $1.50, is all about nostalgia for me. No one, save my husband, whined more about the "bready" relatively shelf stable pastries in Japan more than me. They were not sweet enough, had too little flavor and were always composed of relatively bland white bread. However, that presentation is something which I'll always associate with living there. This roll tasted like life in Tokyo.

That is not to say that it tasted "great", but it was actually better than expected. I sampled a D-Plus Anpan previously, and found it disappointing. This was somewhat better for two reasons. First of all, the bread was fluffier and softer than the anpan version. It was suprisingly fresh in terms of the texture. That could be the nature of this sweet or I could have gotten the anpan at the end of its shelf life and the cream bread at the beginning. It's hard to say for sure, but it was actually pretty decent as far as being soft.

The "cream" part was where it really hit home as a carby slice of Japan. I thought that I'd cut it open and find a small anemic pocket of cream in the middle surrounded by a huge amount of bread. That wasn't the way it worked. If you look at the picture above, you can see dots of yellow that look like tiny bits of butter. You can also see that the cream bread is layered is sections. The cream is distributed in marginal amounts between each segment. This may account for how moist and soft the bread is since even a smattering of fatty cream filling may keep the bread from drying out.

In terms of the taste, I honestly liked it. It is ever so slightly sweet and had the barest hint of custard taste. Coupled with the fairly good texture, this was a serviceable breakfast bread or snack (and at 270 calories, it was a reasonable portion). The truth is that I'd buy this again. However, I think that this is not something I'd recommend for my readers unless they have the same nostalgia for Japan that I do. Objectively speaking, this is no great shakes and you'd be better off buying a nice bun or roll from a supermarket bakery. This was good, but only for what it is and for those who have a sense memory they'd like to relive. I'm sure that's how these D-Plus pastries remain in stock at Japanese markets. They cater to the desire of people who want the "Japanese taste" while they're not in Japan. 

Antonelli Cocoa Cream Italian Croissant

There's a multi-lingual message on the back of this package which says: "The pictures shown are pictures of a fantasy that does not represent the contents of the package itself." You have to respect that they put some truth on the package, even though I missed this message when I first purchased this and expected something a little closer to what was pictured. Absolute truth in advertising would require that this not be called a "croissant", though it is genuinely Italian.

Though these have Japanese writing on them, they are made in Italy. Though I tend to favor reviewing items actually produced in Japan, sometimes it's hard to resist an odd offering from another origin. I found these at Okashi no Marche discount snack shop for a mere 100 yen ($1.30) for a 1.76 oz./50 gram serving. If these are even halfway decent, that's a pretty good price. You can get 100 yen pastries in Japan, but most of them don't have a shelf life of about 7 months. This has an expiration date of May 26, 2012.

The "croissant" portion is really a sort of cake-like bread. It's like a slightly buttery hotdog bun. When I opened the package, I got a whiff of something vaguely familiar and the flavor also had an essence of something I'd had before. I realized that it was the same scent and taste that I'd had with some lemon chocolates a student brought me back from Italy some time ago. I thought that it was a part of the flavoring in those candies, but now I think it might be something else. It's not a bad thing, but it is very distinct.

The bread is soft, but still seems a bit dry. This is common in bread products that are prepared for long-term preservation. It tastes slightly sweet and a little rich. This is likely from the high amount of egg in it. The cocoa cream filling is dotted through it and doesn't have a very strong chocolate flavor. Mainly, it adds a fatty dollop of texture and extra sweetness. There were also lemon and strawberry versions available, and my husband sampled both of them and found them reasonably good, though not amazing.

I try to accept products for what they are rather than what I might hope them to be. These are extended shelf-life (ESL) baked goods and it's unfair to expect them to be like a fine quality fresh-baked pastry. For something which you can put in an earthquake survival kit, toss into a backpack, or just keep in a cabinet or desk drawer for just that time when you just want a bread-based breakfast but don't want to feel pressure to eat it at any given time, this is actually pretty good. The bread has a nice flavor by itself, the filling has a decent texture (though there could be more of it), and it's only about 200 calories for a good-sized bun. It's kind of a good "bad" food. And, yes, I'd buy it again.

Uchi Cafe Sweets Mochi Puyo

One of the great things about doing this blog while actually living in Japan (as opposed to buying imports) is that Japanese people will recommend or give things to you that you may  not bother to sample for yourself. I learned about this pastry secondhand via my husband, who was given one as part of a little "party" at the end of the year that his last student of 2010 "threw" for him. Of course, I don't know if you can call a small bottle of some champagne-like substance and a couple of mochi ball sweets a real party, but it was the thought that counted.

My husband is not the greatest fan of Japanese sweets, so when he tells me he has tried something like this and likes it enough to buy it again, there's a good chance it's going to be pretty darn dandy. The "Uchi Cafe" line of sweets can only be purchased at Lawson's. There are three types of Lawson's convenience stores in Japan: Lawson 100, Natrual Lawson's, and just plain old Lawson's. We found this for 150 yen at the last type and I don't know if you can get them at any of the others, but I doubt it.

Note that, though this is a Lawson's brand, it is made by Yamazaki Pan. I've done a few reviews of Yamazaki Pan sweets and had an indifferent response to those treats, but the truth is that they make some of the best pastries in Japan, particularly when you're looking at anything which is made with cream or custard. If you ever see a Yamazaki Pan package which contains two disks of chocolate cake with whipped cream between them, buy it and enjoy the goodness. It's one of my favorites, but it's also a calorie bomb that you can't indulge in often if you want to look good in your Speedos.

Each little pastry is about 6.5 cm/255 in. in diameter and 155 calories. The top ingredient is "milk flour paste, followed by shortening then eggs, and flour. Though "mochi" is pounded rice cake, rice is nowhere to be found in this. This isn't really mochi so much as a dough which bakes up with the chewy properties of mochi. I also find it odd that no sweetening agent is in the top ingredients yet these aren't low calorie and are sweet. I think the calories are coming from the heavy carbohydrate load and the sweetness from some sort of lactose configuration (but I can't know for certain).

When you open the package, the cakes smell like vanilla custard. For the cutaway picture, it was hard to cut through with a knife because it is as tough as real mochi. The outside is slightly chewy and the custard inside is slightly thin, smooth and creamy. The two textures make for an interesting contrast. The outer mochi-like cake doesn't have a strong flavor, but it does have a baked good sense and even tastes a little like rice. A Japanese person who reviewed this said they thought the outer shell was salty, but I didn't pick that up at all. The white custard has a nice rice eggy flavor along with solid sweetness levels.

I really liked this and would definitely buy it again. It's one of those all too rare treats which balances a very Japanese element (mochi) with a very European one (custard) that makes it unique and delicious. Unless you aren't a fan of chewy bread products, you will want to try this.

Plecia Raw Donut (rare cheese and strawberry)

Though these are called "donuts", they're not actually a donut in any way, so if you were hoping to satisfy your inner Homer Simpson, you're going to be disappointed. These are actually a cream-cheese/cream cheese pastry which requires refrigeration and has a short shelf-life which are ring-shaped. The beauty of a this shape of pastry is that the manufacturer can make it look bigger, but offer less substance.

These pastries are good example of how gelatin is the friend of pastry makers who want to offer the illusion of more without actually giving you more. It's also your friend if you want fewer calories. The gelatin mixed into the cream cheese mixture gives it a firmness without using fatty cream cheese for density.

This was my first experience with anything maybe by Plecia.  They're a maker of confectionery in Yokohama. It's a relatively young company, having been established in 1994 and has a line-up of pastries that seem to focus on the food not being quite cooked and have translations which should amuse. These two cakes are "raw" and another chocolate offering is "half-baked". There are also "runny" and "burned" puddings and pies. They also make mundane pound cakes.


In both cakes, the texture is super light, like a mixture of cream cheese and whipping cream. It's firmer than one might expect because of the gelatin. The cake doesn't lend much overall because it has gotten moist from contact with the topping. It doesn't add much flavor either, but makes a bland and sufficiently pleasant base.

Blueberry:

The first bite of topping is very mild in flavor. It's not very sweet until you reach one of the blobs of blueberry jam. Except in the spots with blueberry, it has a subtle, sweetened cream cheese flavor. The blueberry jam areas taste a lot like, well, blueberry jam. I really liked this, particularly since it is only 128 calories for something which is reminiscent of actual cheesecake.

Strawberry:

Because the strawberry is pureed throughout the cram cheese topping, this smells and tastes more strongly of berries. It really does taste a lot like someone has mixed a berry or two with the cream cheese mixture. This one was only 100 calories, but I wasn't fond of it. The strawberry flavor was too intense for me, but I think that was a personal preference and no slight about the cake itself.

Before writing this review, I had already bought 3 of these cakes, so clearly, I like them. I think if you're looking for a cheesecake-style treat which is light and low in calories, these can't be beat. However, if you want something really decadent and are indifferent to how much it causes your fat cells to inflate, you may find this a bit anemic for your tastes. Personally, I'd buy these again.

Yamazaki Pan Strawberry Ring Doughnut

One word that Japanese learners of English have a lot of difficulty with is "present" as a verb. They often confuse it with "give a gift", as in, "I gave her a great horned toad for her birthday and she was strangely unmoved by the gesture." They also confuse it with "make a presentation" as in "I presented my sales record to my colleagues and they all recommended that I transfer to another part of the company, such as, the mail room."


On the package containing this doughy specimen, it says, "We are proud to present this Doughnut to you." That conjures up the image of a formal ceremony where the pastry is officially handed over to me with a bowing finish. What they really mean is that they're making a presentation of their product. It still doesn't work as a proper meaning, but I can say that it certainly wasn't a gift since we paid 120 yen ($1.33) for it at the Natural Lawson's convenience store.

To be more accurate, my husband got this at Natural Lawson's and I took some bites of this huge doughnut so that I could review it. Japan's convenience store pastries are always freakishly huge. This was about 15 cm x 11 cm (6 in. x 4.3 in.) and my husband could only eat a little over half for breakfast. How do Japanese people hoover these up and stay so trim? It's a genuine mystery.

It looks a little gross inside, like it's bleeding. :-p

Though this is called a doughnut, it's actually more like a cinnamon roll type of thing with psuedo-strawberry jam filling inside and twisted into it instead of cinnamon. It smells pretty much like strawberry sweets. The texture is soft and chewy with no crispness to the outside. The icing is strangely powdery, as if it is halfway between icing and powdered sugar.

The taste is pretty weak on all fronts. There is weak sweetness, though it tends to build up as you have more bites. The strawberry flavor is also mediocre with just the barest hint of the tartness you get from real strawberries. It's quite bland all over and inoffensive, but not all that interesting.

The only thing that this has going for it is that the calorie count, at 351, is actually on the low side for a giant "conbini" pastry. Many of them of a similar size run around 500 calories. This was on the border of an "unhappy" rating for me, but my husband, who this was intended for said he regards it as indifferent. He may finish it, but he won't buy it again.