Friday, July 18, 2014

Bite-Sized Reviews: Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles Gummy Turtle Power Candy Pizza

That might seriously be the longest name for a candy I've ever seen, unless they did a Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King candy bar.

I can also already imagine this is going to be the worst thing I've put in my mouth in a long, long time.

Let's talk packaging.  It's nice that the packaging uses the nickelodeon show for its basis for a candy instead of trying to cash in on the upcoming Michael Bay film.

(Unrelated note, why is it I'm already seeing toys for that movie but nothing for Guardians of the Galaxy?)

On the nutrition information, it says that a serving size is four of these little pizzas, and that amounts to 130 calories.  There's 20 mg of sodium, 30g of carbs, 18g of which is sugar, and three grams of protein.  Looking at the list of ingredients, I'm amazed any child would want to eat these.  

Here's the list: glucose syrup, sugar, gelatin (beef), pectin, citric acid, malic acid, sodium citrate, artificial flavors, artificial colors (yellow 6, red 40, titanium dioxide), palm oil.

"Mommy, why is there beef in my gummy pizza?"

Also, since when is "titanium dioxide" a color?

I do like that each little pizza is individually wrapped.  There's also a firm plastic inside the package that holds the shape of the pizza so it doesn't get mangled during transport.  Giant gummy Life Savers, you could learn something from that.

Opening the package, I want to say the first thing I smell is...something citric.  There's that powerful standard "gummy" smell, of course, but I almost sense undertones of orange or something else acidic.  It has the same effect as the scent (or just thinking about) of lemons, where I suppose it makes the mouth water to help you taste it.

Removing the pizza from the container, I can say it doesn't feel like anything someone should eat.  It has a somewhat rubbery texture, especially on the bottom, that isn't very pleasant.  The "toppings", on the other hand, still have that standard gummy softness, but overall the whole thing feels like a gummy bear that's been sitting out for several weeks.

The colors are also completely unappetizing.  While the top does have the look of pizza sauce (and I suppose the toppings could be tomatoes or pepperoni or something else red), the "dough" portion looks radioactive.  ...which might be appropriate considering these are apparently eaten by mutants.

The color seems almost identical to one of the flavors of 5 gum after I chewed it for twenty minutes, and if the pizza was a bit stickier, it'd have the same texture.  That should not be what I think of when I'm about to eat something.  "Hey, this reminds me of pre-chewed gum!"

And now, a lick.

Again, there's that undertone of citric that makes the mouth want to water.  It's got this heavy sense of "tropical" running throughout it that makes me really wonder what flavor they were going for.  And eat.

The pizza even chews like an old piece of gum.  My mouth is refusing to swallow because my brain keeps thinking it recognizes what I put in my mouth.  After that initial burst of citrus, there really isn't any other remarkable flavor that comes out. After a few seconds of chewing, it comes apart a bit easier and feels more like food, but still not like something "gummy."  

There's an aftertaste after I swallow it.  That same tang remains in my mouth, keeping my mouth watered which I suppose it supposed to make me think I'm still hungry for another.  My mouth also feels significantly drier than before.  

I have to give this candy a solid "no."  A thumbs down.  One and a half out of five stars.  It wasn't aggressively hostile to the senses, but it left my mouth in a worse shape after I ate it than before.  Also, that texture was extremely unpleasant, and now I'm afraid to chew any gum in case my brain gets confused and tells my mouth to swallow that as well.

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