Nestle Ujimatcha Latte KitKat

Back when I did my Regional KitKats post, I mentioned that there was no need to despair over not being able to get these supposedly limited options because many of them have been released or will be released as regular flavors. Ujimatcha is a type of green tea grown in the Uji area and is known for being intense and sweet because the amino acids are kept intact when it is prepared. I don't know if this is true, or exactly what it means, but it's supposed to be vibrantly green and more finely milled than more pedestrian types of green tea. Uji is an area in Kyoto, and this is sold as a regional flavor KitKat.

The package you're seeing pictured here is a consumer level bag of minis sold pretty much anywhere that sells them. So, you see, no matter where you live, you can get this supposedly regional flavor. So there! Okay, this isn't exactly the same as the regional one since this has a semi-sweet chocolate base paired with the white chocolate ujimatcha top and is a "latte" flavor and the regional one is all green tea.

I found this as Nijiya Japanese market for $2.19 (206 yen). It's a pack of 7 single finger mini bars that look like a fat version of half a mini bar. For the quantity, it's slightly pricey, but not ridiculous. The strange thing about this KitKat was that I couldn't locate it on Nestle Japan's web site. That doesn't mean it's not there, but it is strange that it is not featured prominently somewhere. I do check the site regularly, and the expiration date on the bag is September 2013, so it can't be so old that it is outdated. This is the sort of thing that you think about when you're me.

As for the bar itself, it is actually quite different from the regular green tea KitKat. This has a creamy flavor which balances out both the semisweet base and bitter green tea very nicely. I generally don't care for green tea mixed with fairly present chocolate flavors, but it all came together really well in this tiny little bar. It has depth of flavor, but it doesn't come across as lacking in flavor harmony. It's neither too sweet nor lacking in sweetness. I was surprised at how nice it is.

I think this is absolutely one of the nicer consumer-level chocolates you can buy and well worth a sampling if none of the component flavors are something you're averse to. I could see this particular flavor profile with a better quality chocolate being produced by a more prestigious chocolatier. That being said, I still like the adult sweetness green tea bar better, but not by a huge margin.

Tirol Egg Tart Chocolates

While I was walking around a supermarket on December 26th, the day of after Christmas sales, a woman could not get over the fact that Valentine's cards were already on display. Though it does seem a little fast, like they haven't cleared away the corpse of one holiday before putting the warm body of the next in its place, it isn't too terribly shocking. After all, it is next up on the rotation of heavily commercially exploitable holidays in the U.S.

After a visit to this thoroughly normal market, I went on to Nijiya Japanese market to see if they had anything exciting available and came across a bag of Tirol egg tart chocolates. I was surprised to see them because I had recently researched Tirol's current line-up and this particular option was nowhere to be found. Since it was only $2.49 (212 yen) and I do love real egg tarts, I picked it up without looking too carefully at the packaging.

After getting it home and inspecting it more carefully, I noticed that the motif is for Easter. This is rather bizarre for several reasons. First of all, if the Japanese are releasing Easter candy in December, they are way ahead of the game and making a shop which is already stocking Valentine's cards look like amateurs in the game of holiday gun-jumping. Second, Easter has not yet really penetrated Japan as a secular holiday. When I left last year, Baskin Robbins was the only place with a regular option showcasing things like bunnies and colored eggs. I couldn't figure out what the deal was with this candy. It just didn't fit on two fronts.

Nine candies, four package colors, one flavor. Don't let the variation fool you. It's all the same stuff. 

Of course, the Japanese have never needed an excuse to superimpose a Western motif on a place where it does not belong. There is a somewhat famous story told about a nativity scene at a big department store in Tokyo which was absolutely authentic save for the fact that jolly old St. Nick was standing there along with the wise men admiring baby Jesus. A little mix and match adds spice to life, after all, and in Japan, who knows the difference or cares? It's not like Americans don't do it all of the time as well if the way in which Japanese food is prepared here is any indication.

The answer to this little mystery was printed on the back of the bag in the expiration date. I never check such things before I buy them unless they are on sale, but this said it expires in January 2013. The most obvious conclusion is not that this is an early Easter release, but rather a really really old bag of candy. I'm not sure how this happened but I'm guessing that a case of these got lost in the shuffle or put back after it didn't sell somewhere around last March. That being said, I was still in Japan at that time, and I never saw this on the shelves. Trust me, I was looking. Whatever the case may be, I'm guessing this won't be an easy one to find unless you also have access to a Nijiya Japanese market with some pretty old stock or wait for a new re-release to show up at a more appropriate time later this spring in Tokyo. It'll likely be the same candy, but with updated graphics on the packaging.

My efforts to cut it in half for a detailed shot caused it to totally shatter.

As for the candy itself, I didn't have high hopes because this is a "regular" rather than a premium Tirol candy. These tend to have a much higher failure rate on the flavor meter because they are smaller (equivalent volume to a Hershey's Kiss with a thyroid issue) and less sophisticated. It turns out that keeping my expectations low was a good idea. The candy is comprised of three parts: a semi-sweet base (which the explanation claims is milk chocolate, but doesn't taste like it), a crunchy, a biscuit center and a "custard choco" top. Each morsel is only 34 calories, but it's also just two small bites.

The semi-sweet base dominates the candy such that you can't really get a good handle on the "custard" flavor. The crunchy little cookie gives you a nice textural contrast but otherwise doesn't contribute anything. It was only at the end that I got just a hint of the mildly eggy taste of the white chocolate top. All in all, not a bad little chocolate, but utterly unremarkable.

Chances are that I couldn't buy this again even if I were inclined to, but due to the fact that it really doesn't taste like much other than not terribly sweet semi-sweet chocolate (a good thing, to be sure), I can't see any reason to buy it again short of as a freaky Easter gift of outdated Japanese candy.

Tirol Premium Choco Banana

I thought that my days of reviewing Tirol chocolates were over when my airplane left Narita airport on March 29, 2012. I figured that, of all of the things which might be imported, these tiny little squares of 20 yen (26 cents) chocolate would not make the cut. This is because they melt easily, have a low profit margin, and they are not famous among foreigners so people wouldn't know what to make of them when they saw them in stores, unlike KitKats.

The truth is that finding KitKats hasn't exactly been easy in America either, despite the relatively high level of interest in exotic Japanese KitKat flavors. Even places that carry a lot of imported Japanese items tend to focus on sembei (rice crackers), Pocky, and various cooking ingredients rather than on candy bars. I did, however, finally make my way to a major chain of Japanese markets and discovered not only overpriced Japanese KitKats ($7 for a bag of minis), but also this flavor of Tirol candy. Of course, these cost 49 cents and were nearly double their Japan price, but I wasn't going to quibble when I wasn't the one who had to fly over  to Japan and keep the box on my lap on the way home. Also, I'm good with making an investment of about 50 cents to sample something and not so happy about $7 (548 yen, not too different from the retail price of a bag of them in Japan, but no one pays the retail price) on a KitKat flavor that is just a small step removed from what I've tried before. Incidentally, the KitKat flavors on offer were green tea, vanilla ice cream and raspberry, all of which I've had in other iterations before.

This is quite a sophisticated little piece of candy for something you buy in a plastic and foil wrapper in a market. I was impressed that it had four different layers. The outside is a very thin shell of white chocolate. Under the top surface is chocolate syrup with a small amount of banana goop under it. The bottom is a semi-sweet chocolate and the center is a marshmallow. The flavor depth on this is quite surprising. You get banana, which tastes good and as close to "real" as I've had in a such a sweet and a deep semi-sweet chocolate (very reminiscent of Hershey's syrup) which is properly balanced. This actually tastes like a real chocolate banana, but it has the added pleasures of the texture and compactness of chocolate.

Each candy is 49 calories for about a 1" (2.54 cm.) square and is well worth the sugar investment if you're a fan of chocolate-covered bananas. I found these at Nijiya Market in Mountain View, CA. Nijiya has shops in many cities in California as well as one in New York and a few in Hawaii. The package design led me to believe that it was a summer release (the fans) and Tirol's web site lists this as a current variety that one can purchase in convenience stores in Japan. Unfortunately, I know of no mail order options for this or any other Tirol candy. Nijiya has an online shop, but snacks don't tend to be listed there.

This was much more tasty than I expected, particularly since I tend to be unimpressed by banana candy. I love bananas, but find that infusing it into candy tends to be nasty. This worked and I'd definitely buy it again.

Incidentally, if you are interested in some cute wallpapers, you can download them from Tirol's web site here.

Tirol W-Goen Chocolate

Every culture produces a candy version of its money. I like to imagine this started with Hanukkah gelt, because that's the oldest religion I know of which includes an ongoing custom that offers up candy money. However, considering that chocolate is a New World crop, and that the ancient peoples who grew it drank it much like we drink coffee, I'm guessing that the true origins of things like chocolate coins will remain unverifiable. Such is the loss to humanity.

I knew when I picked up this bag of Tirol chocolate 5-yen coins that it wasn't going to be full of some unique candy that I'd be struggling to describe the flavor of. I bought this out of a sense of culturally transplanted nostalgia. That being said, I had forgotten how obnoxious relatives liked to tease me with hints that I was getting actual money then give me the chocolate stuff. They were always amused by this gag, but my sister and I were far less impressed. Nonetheless, when old sorts weren't trying to pull one over on my diminutive self, I always loved getting gold foil-covered coins at various holidays (usually Christmas) and I couldn't resist the Japanese take on this childhood favorite. Also, frankly, since most Tirol candy is sold in individual squares, I wanted to sample this unusual offering from that company.

The candy is actually quite a bit bigger than a real five-yen coin.

The packet contains 54 grams (about 2 oz.) of individually wrapped candies. Each packet is 28 calories and has two "coins", one white and one semisweet chocolate version, in it placed back to back.  Both are fairly thin and nicely crisp with a good snap. Well, at least mine were after I kept them in the refrigerator. The white chocolate one is mellow and sweet. It's actually less cloying and offensive than most offerings of the white stuff. The other one is actually quite tasty with a nice bit of bitterness and a strong chocolate flavor.

I liked these quite a lot and would be pleased to keep a bag around for a quick bite of chocolate if they were all the semisweet chocolate variety. As it is, I tolerate the white one amiably, but find it less than fulfilling as a sweet snack. Right now, my chocolate bits of choice are Crunky mini bites (which are 14 calories each), but these are a serviceable substitute for portion-controlled nibbles.

Kameda Seika Pizza Sembei

There was a period of time in my life when I was absolutely bonkers for pizza. I call that the time "when I was young and lived in the United States". Since coming to Japan, several factors have conspired to undermine my devotion to that fattening delight. First, there was the year or so when both my husband and I were working full-time and every Friday night we'd come home and be so exhausted that we'd just order a barely adequate pizza from Pizza Hut. It got to the point where I actually was so sick of pizza, any kind, that I didn't want to touch one.

The second factor, and anyone whose lived in Japan for any length of time will understand this, is that Japanese pizza blows like a gale-force wind. It's not only that they are skimpy with the cheese and meat toppings, but the crusts always fail to inspire. Unless you go to a top of the line pizza place with equally "top of the line" prices, you're going to get something between a pre-made crust and a frozen mass-produced dough. Even when you stumble across a nice-looking Italian place (of which there are approximately a gazillion in Tokyo), there's a very high chance that they're using frozen pies or bases. Trust me when I say there's a very small chance that there's some guy in the back tossing dough, even in a relatively authentic-looking place.

Despite my loss of enthusiasm for pizza, I still love it "in theory" and what better way to get your pizza on in the abstract than going for a cracker with pizza flavoring? I was compelled to buy these for a mere 120 yen ($1.56) by the illustration which shows a copious slathering of pizza seasoning on the top. It actually looks like it has more toppings than the average Japanese pizza on a relative scale.

Tearing open the foil packet, a task I always have trouble with because my puny girl muscles are fueled by years of anemic pizza, I caught a whiff of lovely Italian seasonings - Parmesan, oregano, tomato. The crackers are medium-sized (about 2/3 the size of my palm) and of the "soft" type in Japan, which is to say that they are crispy but airy instead of crispy and very thin. The seasoning was strong, but not too strong and had a nice zesty bite.

These were better than pizza, or at least better than the pizza I can get here. I loved them and gobbled down half the (decidedly small) bag in one sitting. These are a great companion to a soft drink and would also be excellent movie-watching fare. Honestly, if you want pizza and you're in Tokyo, you're probably better off with a bag of this sembei than with the real deal. You'll save money and calories and these taste better.

KitKat Semisweet

My readers may (or may not) have noticed that I haven't reviewed many Japanese KitKats as of late. There are two reasons for this. One is that Nestle Japan has slowed down their release rate a bit now that the peak studying season is over and parents might be less inclined to buy KitKats as forms of encouragement for students prepping for exams. The other is that I believe I have come down with Japanese KitKat Fatigue Syndrome (JKFS). That's when you sample so many of these bars that they all sort of run together.



It doesn't help that Nestle is starting to recycle flavors at a record pace. When my husband brought home this latest bar and plonked it on my desk, my first thought was of the Okashi no Machioka special "mild bitter" bar. That bar was a dark chocolate bar, as is this one, and was mild bittersweet chocolate. It was fine, but nothing to write home about... not that I ever actually write home anymore since I have Skype, and not that I'd ever write about KitKats. I've got other boring details of life to put my family to sleep with.

Incidentally, I love the bold design of this bar's box. At first, I thought it might be some Grand Prix-related release because the checkerboard pattern reminds me of car racing, but I didn't read about any connection between this bar and racing on the KitKat web site. There may be one, but I've missed it if that is so.


Fortunately, this bar has bigger flavor teeth than the mild bitter mini bars that I reviewed before. It has a stronger dark chocolate flavor tempered with sweetness. It smells very good in a way that shouts "chocolate" more loudly than a regular bar. It's missing the usual milkiness, but has a similar sweetness level to the regular KitKat bar. The chocolate is also slightly firmer than usual as one might expect from a bar with less milk. These are 97 calories for 2 fingers, which puts them a few calories lower than most conventional KitKats.

If you like dark chocolate, but don't like it as strongly on the bitter side, this may be very appealing to you. These bars were released on March 15, so they'll probably be around for awhile and you can get them at any of the major convenience stores for 100 yen ($1.11). I can't say that this is a "don't miss" type of bar, but it really is quite good as a variation on the standard milk chocolate KitKat. It doesn't stand as a novelty Japanese KitKat, but works well simply as a semisweet chocolate candy bar.