Dunkin Donuts Christmas Coffee!!!111!!1

Posted on November 15, 2011 by bayoubabylon

Being on a “diet” during the Holidays FUCKING SUCKS.

It’s like a crime against nature or something. (For the record, I’m not on a “diet”, I’m on a general eating plan of “no bullshit”)

You read that right. I believe it is a part of human nature to eat themed treats and drink themed libations during the season of seasons (and that ain’t baseball). And by not doing so, I feel I am going against nature and may possibly incur the wrath of some pissed-off Holiday Treat god/Mother Nature somewhere.

It may have nothing to do with Christmas. It may just be that we are, somewhere, related to bears and that we have a need, deep down, to fatten up before winter really gets down to bidness.

Whatever the reason is, when I went into the local Swanky Grocery Store the other day and saw their elaborate holiday displays, I nearly went out of my mind while trying to resist the goodies. I had to make my escape.

I beat it outta there and when I got outside, instead of feeling like Rocky for beating my temptations into submission, I felt like I had done something wrong, and that punishment for this crime was imminent. I attribute this to the Holiday Treat gods being pissed at me.

I had to appease these gods, my own mortal soul and holiday season were at stake!

But how does a person who is watching what they eat, appease gods whose sole purpose in the universe is to tempt you with themed treats???

Christmas-Themed Coffee!!!!

I want you to know, straight away, that I’m not going to review a bunch of holiday-themed consumer goods this holiday season. If you want that, and you want it done right, I suggest you head on over to Mattdog’s site.

That’s not our bag over here at the FFDC zone (though, if it comes to it, and I’m at a loss for something to post about, I’ll write about anything. just to be clear).

Themed Coffee “fits” here because it is something that you can consume that is,

1. Holiday Themed, for the gods’ maximum pleasure.

2. Not fattening, unless you do the “add-ons”.

I don’t know how many calories are in black coffee, even flavored coffees, but it can’t be a lot. It’s just water, filtered through demolished, roasted, beans. Bean water, right? No way that can be fattnin’.

When I was a kid, I wanted to be just like my dad, just like every good boy does fine. My dad, having given up the drink and was currently in the process of giving up the smoke (dad’s been smoke-free for like 25 years now! Go dad!), dranks loads of coffee. To this day, he drinks coffee all day and all of the night. He was also a railroad man, and any railroad man worth his weight in spikes drinks coffee like Juan Valdez is going to burn all the coffee plantations tomorrow.

Being as I wanted to be just like him, I wanted to drink coffee. He gave me a cup of coffee, and I went to put cream and sugar in it…

“No, no, boy. Your mother does that.”

This was a clear indication that only girls put cream and sugar in coffee. Not big manly men like us!

And that was that. I’ve been drinking my coffee black ever since and, as my dad has said many times, “If you drink your coffee black, you can drink coffee anywhere.” Which I have found to be true in my many travels throughout the years.

So I like coffee. I like it black. And, normally, I don’t like it “flavored”. Not because I don’t think it’s manly, but most of the time, the flavors don’t really stand out too much and just plain taste bad, to me.

Remember that as you read these two reviews of my compromise on the Holiday Treats: Dunkin Donuts Holiday Coffees.

Here are the coffees in question (there may be other Xmas blends out there, I don’t know):

This is the bag of Mocha Mint Dunkin Donuts coffee:

Dunkin Donuts Mocha Mint

 

This is what it looks like brewed:

Dunkin Donuts Mocha Mint

 

This is the bag of Dunkin Donuts Vanilla Nut Coffee:

Dunkin Donuts Vanilla Nut

 

And this is what it looks like brewed:

Dunkin Donuts Vanilla Nut

 

Let me say a quick word about Dunkin Donuts: fuck ’em. Fuck em up and down and in their face.

Why? Because this is die hard Krispy Kreme Country, bitch!!!!! Dunkin Donuts are yankee donuts, no doubt about it. Sorta like when someone told me that Moon Pies were “Whoopie” Pies. Whoopie deez nutzzzz. They’re Moon Pies.

And while I definitely do not hate the Double D (I make sure to visit a location at least once while in the Northeast) as much as I made it sound like for a second there, I definitely feel a bit of loyalty to the Double K. If you’ve never been to the Northeast, let me tell you that the Double D is freakin everywhere. You think you have a lot of Starbucks? You haven’t seen shit until you’ve seen FOUR Dunkins in ONE square block. I’m not kidding. I have seen that.

Suffice it to say, if KK had a Christmas line of coffees, I’d be reviewing them here, not DD. No offense, DD. (although if you are a big DD fan/employee, you probably quit reading midway through the “eff em up and down and in their face” line)

Mocha Mint:

This is the first of the two that I bought, because it was on sale at Target (and if you just pronounced that in your head “the French way”, you know what I mean, then go shoot yourself now and do us all a favor). On sale, this stuff was right around $7. My usual brand, Maxwell House Original, goes for about $5, when it’s not on sale for less. I noticed that, normally, the DD coffee is around $10. Outrageous. Yankee prices for yankee coffee, I guess.

This one is better than the Vanilla Nut, I’ll give it that. In fact, this one, like almost all coffees (as Johnny Tremain found out) smells like heaven, but tastes like well…. not hell, exactly… but vaguely minty regular coffee. I honestly could not taste any mocha (that’s chocolate right? why can’t they just call it “chocolate mint”? I guess the DD is gettin all uppity on us, forgetting that they have locations inside gas stations).

It smelled really good when I opened the bag, and while brewing, but in the cup it just tastes… I dunno. Not worth $10/bag, that’s for damn sure. Locally, we have “Community” coffee. It is better and a bit cheaper, especially their “coffee & chicory” blend. But like I said earlier, I don’t normally go for the flavored coffees anyway, but how was I supposed to resist that cheery snowman on the front??? There was no resisting that. I don’t want to type that it was futile, but I guess I just did.

Vanilla Nut:

This is actually what I’m drinking right now.

“What’s the deal with Grape Nuts? No grapes, no nuts, what’s the deal???”

Sorta like that. No vanilla, no nuts, what’s the deal.

This stuff smelled good in the bag (once again, I haven’t found a coffee yet that didn’t smell totally cowabunga when you opened the bag), but not really too much like what I would picture “Vanilla Nut” to smell like.

I guess DD is following the “Chock Full o Nuts” business model of: “say nuts in the title, but it’s just regular coffee.”

The flavor of Vanilla Nut doesn’t really shine through like I want it to. I love Vanilla, it’s probably my favorite flavor, because I’m kind of a boring sort of guy, but I’m wondering what kind of “nut” flavor I’m s’posed to be experiencing here. Cashew nut? Wall Nut? Pecan Nut? Pea Nut? Macadamia Nut? Ok, I’ll quit naming nuts.

In Summation:

I haven’t really changed my mind that I don’t care for flavored coffees, but I feel like the Holiday Theme gods have been satisfied and can go back to resting on their holly thrones (ouch!) and leave me the eff alone.

I guess that, maybe, you’re not supposed to drink these coffees “black”. But if you hafta add “vanilla flavoring” to “Vanilla Nut” coffee, doesn’t that kinda defeat the purpose? If the flavors do not come out on their own, then the coffee (or Scotch or whatever) has failed, in my mind.

But maybe my palate is not refined enough to appreciate good coffee, which is really a good thing because this shit is ‘spensive.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Posted in About Fitness, About Me, General dorky shit | 9 Comments

During Pics for November, Beard Shaving, etc.

Posted on November 14, 2011 by bayoubabylon

290 Days Until Dragon*Con 2012….

Well, to hell with Movember, I shaved my beard off. My mighty beard, which I had started while in Ireland, finally got on my nerves so much that it now resides in a plastic sack in the bathroom rubbish bin. Why would a person, who is lucky enough to be in a profession where it doesn’t really matter what you look like, and who has a keen interest in Fantasy, Dwarves, and Norse mythology, shave their beard off?

Friends, you like lists because they are easy to read, and I like lists because they are easy to write, so here is one. One list. One list about why I shaved my badass, heavy metal, dwarven, viking, beard off. In order of top reasons. Contrary to logic and suspense, I’ll start with number one and go from there:

1. Felt weird/bad. In the mornings, when I would wake up, the beard always felt crusty or something. Gross. I don’t know if I drool a lot in my sleep (I’ve suffered from terrible sinus problems since childhood, which would lead to sleeping with your mouth open, which would finish with excessive drooling. I attribute these sinus problems to living in a place with 100% humidity EVERY FRACKIN DAY. This town consistently has the 2nd highest amount of precipitation in the USA, next to Seattle, and we even beat them sometimes. Couple that with extreme heat, bugs, and all the golden rod and fungus and spores that you can shake a stick at, and you get an allergy nightmare…. from which you never awaken, bwa ha ha!)

Ahem. Where was I?

Right. Crusty beard. Beard felt gross.

The thing is, I never could get that gross feeling out. I tried washing it every day, putting conditioner on it (which sometimes helped, but most times just made it feel slick and slimy), and even putting wax/gloss on it. None of this ever helped it not feel disgusting (I think I once compared it to roadkill, which wasn’t too far off the mark).

Also, sometimes it would itch and hair would get in my mouth. I tried waxing my moustache, but that only got some of the hairs out of my mouth, not all. Speaking of, you may think that the moustache wax reviews are now over, but I tried numerous waxes while I had my beard/stache, so there will be more reviews coming eventually.

2. Wife hates it. This is both a reason to keep the beard, and eventually, a reason to shave it off. You can ask any guy with a beard and he’ll tell you, “Yep, wife hates it. I love it.” Clearly, there was no way I could have listed this as the number one reason for shaving, else my Dood credentials be permanently revoked.

A wife claims that the beard scratches her face during kissy moments and that the hairs get in her mouth, which I can admit would be a turn off.

Being as I’m a red-blooded dude, around the age of 12 or 13 years old, “Gettin Some” supplanted Christmas for top spot in my brain and has ruled with an Iron Fist ever since. So the beard has got to go.

3. The beard was way more trouble than any other part of my body. As in, it took a lot of “fixin'”. Several times a day, I would put a little wax on the stache, brush the beard, comb the beard, examine it for parasites, and, in general, try my best to remain looking like a well-groomed gentleman… with a big burly beard.

I would always see these guys in the store: giant beards, but still looked well-groomed and “together”. I look the opposite of “together”. I look “apart”. All the time. I don’t know why I thought I could pull off the well-groomed beard look, but I did. I don’t know how those guys do it. Their beards are always neat, never fro’d-out like mine, and the hair lays straight and looks soft. My beard looked like I had a tumbleweed glued to my face, no matter how much product I smeared into it.

I would share some pics of myself sans-beard, but since I try to remain anonymous on the ‘net (useless, I know, but at least I feel better about myself if I make an attempt, however futile), there are no pics on here of me with a beard, so pics of me sans-beard would be pointless and have no frame of reference.

Speaking of pics, yesterday was the two-month anniversary of FFDC.com, and as you know, this means pictures of my progress towards playing Conan in the next Conan movie, which will be titled “Conan: the Flabby and Half- Blind” and feature me, as Conan, beating a rowdy tribe of feral senior citizens to a pulp.

"I am NOT DRINKING MERLOT!!!!"

dia de los muertos

I’m not gonna lie. These pictures are disappointing. You can’t really tell that I’ve lost any of my beer gut over the past month. I feel like I have, and my britches are fitting looser, and I feel a lot better in general, but the pictures don’t lie, and I still look like a tubby piece of shit. Fuck pictures.

Have I been forgoing beer and Christmas treats for this??? To look exactly the same after a month of going to the JFZ regularly and eating only twigs and berries and protein??? GODDAM IT.

I swear, it’s photos like these that make me want to burn down the JFZ while eating a potato sack full of buffalo wings and drinking a 5 gallon bucketful of Guinness.

le rage!!!!!

le sigh.

At my age, you can’t stay mad too long before you get tired and burnt out on it. I think that’s why my musical productivity has taken a nosedive over the past 5 years or so. As they say, comfort is the enemy of creativity.

Maybe I need to step it up a notch or something. But I can go ahead and tell yall, I’m not going to spend all day in the frackin JFZ, or working out any-f’n-where. There has got to be time for playing Warhammer Online, LoTRO, and watching Tales from the Darkside dvds. So what to do? Can’t starve myself, can’t spend all day fitnessing.

Any suggestions would be appreciated, but don’t get all preachy on me or I’m liable to throw my computer out the window… then you gotta explain that one to my wife. How you made me do it, you devil you.

Posted in About Fitness, About Media, General dorky shit | 6 Comments

Methods, Goals, and Some Hard Truths: “Are We Not Entertained?”

Posted on November 10, 2011 by bayoubabylon

by Guest Blogger “Jonathon Cabot”

Civilized people are strange creatures. This was something someone wiser than myself once related, and expounded on this fair assessment of us by stating that we as sentient beings have a pretty much infinite capability to both absorb knowledge and communicate. Yet this boundless gift is used as much, if not more so, for pure amusement and fantasy as it is for relevant information and survival. Just for the sake of instance, let’s take vampires and bears.

The bear is a real beast, with several varieties indigenous to North America. They tend to be large, formidable, and at least somewhat familiar to most of the population in the free world thanks to the efforts of The Discovery Channel or perhaps the occasional visit to the zoo. But what do we actually know about them? Are they purely carnivorous, or are they also the foraging kind? Do they live in groups, or wander alone? What would it take to bring one down if it comes to that? If the list of fatal bear attacks a quick Google pull showed are any indication, a whole lot of folks found out way too late how little they really knew (just as an FYI, DO NOT engage in sexual activities when camping in bear country, for the same reason it’s ill-advised to fill your Sailor Moon Underoos with honey dipped salmon in the same neighborhood–the juices we make during those intimate moments smell positively delicious to those of the ursine persuasion). This tends to be a universal issue for us. What is it we “know” about bears, or any number or wild animals that we could conceivably encounter in our own backyard? Is any of it true? I frankly have no idea. It’s genuinely unsettling how precious little we know, let alone know with any confidence, about these creatures that truly exist, and are without question dangerous.

Now then, let’s consider the vampire. While I’m not sure when exactly the myth of the undead bloodsucker started, it seems that many cultures had their own versions of this legend, and over the miles, time, and by word of mouth, the “reality” of them ultimately morphed into the modern conceptualization we have. While it may seem trifling (and not without good reason), this process has been so successful that pretty much everyone who has ever watched a TV with any frequency knows that vamps can only come out at night, disintegrate in sunlight, bite necks to drink blood, shy away from garlic/holy water/the sign of the cross, an oak stake into the heart would really ruin their weekend, ad absurdum. Yes, we all know these “facts” about vampires, but there is only one fact that really matters–the vampire as we imagine it is just that–imaginary.

The bloodsucking undead, at least as we think of them, are not real, yet we know so much about them (my apologies to Twilight fans, please forward your hate mail directly to the round bin). Bears are legit threats, and yet with the exception of a handful of genuine experts, we know comparatively nada.

Where was it exactly I was going with this? Glad you asked. While it might be a fair comment to say that I’ve probably been overthinking these matters, I truly believe there exists a parallel with our peculiar human mental idiosyncrasies and the fitness modalities civilized society tends to favor. Of course, when I speak of such things, I’m referring to the select few in this soft, spoiled culture of ours that make any sort of effort at all for such endeavors. While fitness-ing admittedly may not have been what John Steinbeck had in mind when he penned this warning to his American readers: “We now face the danger, which in the past has been the most destructive to the humans: Success, plenty, comfort, and ever-increasing leisure. No dynamic people has ever survived these dangers”, one can easily draw a connection between these chilling words and the contemporary lifestyle of the domesticated human animal; with or without the tough economic times.

To paraphrase John DuCane of Dragon Door publishing (so succinct, I doubt I could’ve put it better if I tried, so I won’t), most Americans that exercise do so more out of a sense of pride or vanity (i.e., the desire to “look good nekkid”) rather than from an absolute need to survive in a hostile world. The man is definitely onto something. Going back to my earlier ramblings about bears and bloodsuckers, this observation of his may shed light on some of the reasons behind the three decade deluge of wacky late night infomercial “fitness” equipment; “guaranteed” to fry our fat, blast our buns, and balance the deficit or-your-$$$-back(TM), and the mind boggling assortment of machines and devices found in the standard commercial gym. Once again, it seems we seek entertainment over all else, even when it comes to corporeal upkeep, by engaging in multitudes of bizarre exercises of dubious value–the “Shakeweight,” anyone?–and all the while drifting from one method to another with all the focus and attention span of a ferret hopped up on a double espresso. At least until boredom inevitably sets in.

In short, we have a tendency to be preoccupied with the fluff, and it comes at the expense of downplaying or utterly neglecting what is genuinely productive for what we seek. While deep down most of us probably do realize this fact, let’s spell it out right now: the best training methodologies for whatever your stated fitness goals may be have already been invented, and chances are have been in use for quite a long time. It’s simply a matter of acknowledging this, and grabbing ourselves by the bootstraps. Contrary to what the multibillion dollar fitness industry wants us to come to terms with, achieving these goals doesn’t really require much in the way of equipment nor monetary investment. Not an expensive gym full of shiny toys, nor the latest greatest 500-calorie recovery shake, and certainly not any of the magical pills they’ve been peddling. What it does require are a handful of attributes that any number of well-meaning folks have tried to pass along to us in the past–hard work, dedication, and being able to discern/distill what is useful, and discard what is not. Believe you me, it makes my eyes roll wetly in their sockets just like yours when I hear that one hauled out for the umpteenth time, but some things you just can’t get around.

Despite the unabashed bemusement that I have been expressing, I genuinely do sympathize with those who feel lost on this path, and how daunting it can be when everyone and everything is trying to shove a different map in your face. And the irony is not lost on me that by virtue of contributing to this blog, I may well end up being nothing more than just another pontificating jackass on the internet muddying the waters. Best I can do is declare upfront that my word isn’t even on the same planet as gospel, and that there never has been, nor likely ever will be a one-size-fits-all approach to these matters (and let the record show that I am never too proud to admit when I just don’t know). If you enjoy the chop suey I’ll be shucking here and you’re able to incorporate even a bit into your day to day, I’ll do what I can to keep the good stuff coming–the hard lessons “learned in the trenches” of what does and doesn’t work that I’ve gathered over the last two decades of training myself and coaching others.

(Thanks for the soapbox and the kind words, dood.)

Let’s be careful out there.

((((Editor’s Note: As a way of, somehow, being a contributor to this amazing post, I will now include a doodle of Mr. Cabot’s worst nightmare: a Vampire Bear. Done on MS Paint, which I honestly think I am getting better at. Thanks a million, Jonathon, for such a really great article!!!!)))

 

Posted in About Fitness, About Media, Uncategorized | 9 Comments

Tomorrow: Guest Speaker

Posted on November 9, 2011 by bayoubabylon

295 Days Until Dragon*Con 2012…

I’ve said it a million times, but it occasionally needs repeating, that I am no fitness expert, or gym rat, or lion, or anything else that resembles being knowledgeable, at all, about fitnessing. I’m just a regular joe-shmo wildebeest, trying to lose weight so I can fit into some badass costume for Dragon*Con next year. Though what that costume may be, I have no idea. More on that some other time, of course.

Over the course of this blog so far, I have attempted to use this to my advantage. Posts like the “Fitness Jeopardy for Dummies” stuff, and the JFZ Savanna Wildlife Fund stuff, are all intended to convey that I’m just a regular doofus trying to make it, and attempt to be humorous and perfectly honest at the same time.

But I have a feeling that there are those of you out there who desire some real content about fitnessing. Some good, honest, information that you can take and use to make your fitnessing all that it can possibly be, and more.

To this end, I have decided to bring in the Big Guns.

Believe it or not, I actually have friends that are real hardasses, but yet still possess a certain “geek” (for lack of a better word) sensibility that makes them a really great fit here at FFDC.com.

In case you didn’t guess by the title of today’s post, tomorrow (and every following Thursday, if I can talk him into it) will feature a guest blogger who shall, for now, remain anonymous, but you may call him Johnathon Cabot.

This guy is one of my all-time fitnessing heroes. He specializes in kettlebell (something that was a regular fixture on Thursdays, if you’ll remember correctly) and in working out at home… without any equipment. And I think he may have been raised by wolves.

He’s an RKC-certified kettlebell instructor and gubment-certified badass, and he will be here tomorrow to whip our flabby asses into shape!!!

So stay tuned tomorrow as we welcome a very special guest blogger to FFDC.com, and learn the errors that we have been making in our fitnessing regimens.

 

Posted in About Fitness, Uncategorized | 2 Comments

King Oscar Mediterranean Style Sardines

Posted on November 8, 2011 by bayoubabylon

296 Days Until Dragon*Con 2012…

We have already established that eating sardines is both healthy and tasty, so I’ll dispense with the obligatory “sardines are good for you and you should eat them because…” stuff.

Yesterday I promised a full review of the King Oscar Mediterranean Style Sardines, so here it is:

To start with, King Oscars are from Norway. I thought they were from Germany, but I am an idiot, so my opinion of where they may be from is completely irrelevant. I don’t really know why, I guess Oscar sounds like a Prussian sort of name, and the guy on the front of the label looks like he’d be King of Germany.

Recently, Norway has edged ahead of France in my list of “countries I want to visit, but have not yet”. To be perfectly honest, this is due, in no small part, to my recently-intensified interest in several things:

viking metal music, growing out a giant beard, dwarves in games and literature.

These things lead to an interest in Norse folk music, vikings in general, Norse mythology and spirituality, etc. Basically, anything I can tie to beards and fantasy, which for now means Vikings and Norway.

So King Oscar already has points with me, just by being from Norway, “By Special Royal Permission”.

Also, check out King Oscar’s facial hair situation:

King Oscar II, Sardinery Magnate

 

I swiped this pic from the internet, but it was worth it so you can get a real good look at King Oscar’s facial hair. A full beard, complete with a nothing-less-than-epic handlebar moustache!  Almost the exact look that Jobby had, and almost the exact look that I am currently striving to achieve.

And this guy is a King!!!! At some point, it became unfashionable to sport a proud and mighty beard like this, and I believe it must have been at that point that Western Civilization began to crumble. From now on, whenever I get looks from the rednecks around here, eyeballing my beard, I’ll just telepathically remind them that King Oscar had a beard and, even though he is dead as a wedge now, his beard and sardine traditions live on in the form of canned fish.

King Oscar Finest Brisling

 

I know I showed this picture yesterday, but here it is again. I wanted to point out the full name of these sardines as being, “King Oscar, by Special Royal Permission, Finest Brisling Sardines Mediterranean Style”.

What does “brisling” mean? I have no effing idea. But I’m sure it is a good thing to be considered the “finest” brisling. Maybe I’ll look it up on the internet:

Ok, so brisling is just a type of sardine. One that is, apparently, the best sort of sardine, offering “a delicate texture and full aroma”. It’s the “full aroma” part that should have you worried, because unless your family really enjoys the smell of semi-raw fish that have been in a can for, possibly, months, then they may violently protest when you crack open a can of these puppies. It’s funny because the wife, upon catching a whiff of the King Oscars, remarked that they were the worst-smelling yet. I don’t mind the smell of sardines, but I can see how it would be an offensive odor to many people.

In other words, it is entirely possible that King Oscar was a bachelor.

These sardines have some Mediterranean Style which I was hoping meant that they come decked out in colorful scarves and coin skirts. But alas, it just means that they are having a soak in extra virgin olive oil and coated with “herbs of provence” (whatever that is), red bell pepper, and black olives.

Let’s see here…. herbs of provence….

Aha!

“Herbes de Provence is a mixture of dried herbs typical of Provence. Formerly simply a descriptive term referring to herbs typical of Provence, in the 1970s, commercial blends started to be sold under this name.[1]

The standard mixture typically contains savory, fennel, basil, thyme, and lavender flowers and other herbs, though lavender was not used in traditional southern French cooking.”

So yeah, herbs from France. Which are tasty.

Sadly, the lovely red label on these sardines is merely a plastic dust jacket for a very plain can of sardines:

It has the “pull tab” variety of sardine can opening method, which is pretty much all you’re going to get these days. I have always preferred the “key and roll back” method, but I haven’t seen that in a very long time. These cans you would have a little key that had a hole in it. The lip of the can would fit into the hole, then you would turn the key and the top of the can would sort of “roll up” onto the key as you journeyed across the top of the can. I think these new pull tabs are considered both safer and easier to open. Here’s a pic I stole from the internet of a “key and roll back” sardine can:

Apologies to whomever I swiped this pic from, but so many of my “Sleepy Hollow” screencaps have showed up on the web that I don’t really feel bad. Share and share alike. I guess I am a bit of a Communist when it comes to internet picturery.

Once opened, the sardines/can looks like this:

I know that it doesn’t look appetizing, but I promise that this is the tastiest sardines straight-from-the-can that you will find. I honestly can feel comfortable recommending them to people who don’t think they like sardines because, along with the herbs and oil and olives, you’re not going to get a really intense fishy flavor with these, as you would with most other sardines.

As I mentioned before, these brisling sardines (check out that usage! I am learning something every day!) have a very delicate texture, and they’re also very small, a fact I pointed out when I reviewed King Oscar sardines before. I didn’t care for it then, but now that the internet has told me that this delicate texture is a sign of top-notch sardines, I love it. They really just fall apart just from a glance at your fork (although these sardines are headless and can do no glancing, there are sardines out there that, once you open them, their heads and little glassy eyes will be looking right back at you in an accusatory glare.)

The flavor is really good, but I don’t know if I would necessarily say “Mediterranean”. Maybe “Mediterranean-inspired” would fit better. I get the impression that sardines are quite popular in other parts of the world, maybe even in Mediterranea, so perhaps this is true and my American palate is just not refined enough to recognize it. This could easily be the case, since I find Miller Lite to be quite tasty, while my beer-snob friends look down their noses at me. If you’re eating King Oscars, maybe you can look down your nose at someone eating Beach Cliffs or Brunswicks. Or maybe, since you are eating sardines, you don’t really have any room to look down your nose at anyone.

I don’t really know what else to say about the flavor, other than that they taste like good sardines with stuff on them, which makes them very palatable straight out of the can.

If you are rushing out your door right now to go buy a can of King Oscar, By Royal Appointment, Finest Brisling Sardines Mediterranean Style right now, you better bring your wallet because each can is about $2.50 – $3.00. I know this doesn’t sound like a lot, but considering Beach Cliffs are about $1, these are some lavish canned fish.

The Cadillac of Sardines: King Oscar, By Royal Appointment, Finest Brisling Sardines Mediterranean Style.

 

 

 

Posted in About Me, General dorky shit, Uncategorized | 3 Comments