KitKat Big Little Matcha Azuki – KitKat Bigリトル 抹茶あずき

KitKat comes in many forms: standard, chunky, mini, individual fingers… but this is the only incarnation I’ve seen that strays from the traditional rectangular shape and branches into the hugely popular market of single-serving bagged chocolates such as Galbo and Crunky Popjoy. Big Little isn’t new – I tried the Kinako version last year – but it seems to appear suddenly in shops only to disappear again without warning, with a long hiatus before the release of the next variety. I get the feeling that perhaps Nestle is not yet fully committed to the product, and honestly, after considering this latest installment, I can see why.

The eight pieces contained in the packet, each about the size of a piece of cue chalk, are redolent of rich, strong green tea with a hint of sweet red bean, and have that deep olive green colour that I look for in matcha candy. Promising as that may be, I find the appearance rather disappointing. Every face of the cuboids is marked by blemishes and cracks that make them look like something you’d find in a 99p store marked under ‘factory clearance’. While this wouldn’t bother me normally, it just seems so at odds with the standard perfectly formed, cleanly embossed KitKat fingers, that this item feels unrecognisable as a part of the same range.

Never mind, the proof of the pudding is in the eating right? The thick chocolate layer is a little waxy and bland on the surface but creamy once it begins to melt. Milky and mild, the matcha flavour is pleasant, although the chocolate is over-sweetened and a touch sickly. I like that, with the altered chocolate-to-wafer ratio afforded by the new shape (wafer center is larger than usual), the secondary flavour contained in the sandwiched filling is more noticeable than in a typical KitKat. A side-effect of this is that the center is marginally less crisp than usual, being more thickly spread with cream filling. Unfortunately, despite the recognisable deep pink colour of the wafer, the azuki taste is too faint to compete with the sweet chocolate coating and languishes vaguely in the background. This was also the problem with the Azuki Sando KitKats I reviewed a while ago; the wafer center is too slim to allow for the addition of anything coarser than powdered azuki, which just doesn’t deliver on flavour.

I’m not condemning Nestle for trying something different, but the original KitKat fingers look so much more polished and recognisable, and already boast such a diverse range of flavours and sizes, that I just don’t see the need for Big Little, nor where it fits in. I’d still recommend trying it – who knows, maybe it’s the KitKat format you’ve always been waiting for – but I’ll stick to the rectangular bars I know and love.

5/10

KitKat Big Little Matcha Azuki  8pcs  190kcals

Crunky Matcha – Crunky 抹茶

While traditional bars and blocks are among the less popular forms of chocolate in Japan, Crunky, alongside Meiji Himilk and Ghana, is one of the long-standing fixtures of any candy aisle. Usually made from milk chocolate, Crunky is a lightweight rectangular bar, studded with puffed barley grains, similar to Nestle’s Crunch bar, yet slimmer and thus brittler. With spring having finally arrived (it takes a while for it to reach Hokkaido), supermarkets are awash with matcha and sakura flavoured confections, hence I came across this seasonal item at a large branch of Daiso.

Encased in a thin cardboard box and wrapped in flimsy silver foil, the bar was fresh and in near perfect condition when I opened it. The murky green hue was promising, as, although strong green tea can have a rich emerald tone, typical brews are usually a paler mossy colour. Matcha candy that is a very pale pastel green, while pleasing to the eye, is less likely to deliver on flavour, and will probably taste more like matcha au lait, i.e. extremely milky and sugary. The Lotte logo is embossed into every chunk and the smooth surface has an appealing sheen, with the malt puffs just visible beneath.

Looking at the underside reveals how thoroughly well distributed the grains are throughout the bar. There are a few air holes but not enough to affect the texture. The chocolate has a lovely toasted cereal aroma, like a cup of barley tea, but matcha is not quite detectable in the scent.

There is not as high a concentration of grain here as the illustration on the cardboard sleeve suggests, but there is still enough to provide a nice crisp bite. Every chunk contains plenty of cereal and the barley is light and toasty, not at all stale. It feels fairly solid, by which I mean that despite all the aerated puffs, it still has the dense creaminess of chocolate. The crucial matcha flavour is good – fairly bold – and works very well with the cereal, which really helps to offset the dairy and sugar in the bar and bring out the natural taste of the tea.

I thought this was a good bar, in particular the ratio of chocolate to malt puffs and the green tea flavour. While not as rich a matcha taste as Dars’ Ujimatcha or Meiji’s matcha bar, the flavour was distinctive and pleasant. I don’t think this is my favourite green tea chocolate, but it could be my favourite Crunky.

7/10

Lotte Crunky Matcha  42g   253kcals

Funawa Ankodama – 舟和 あんこ玉

This is more of a summary than a review, but these are just so pretty and photogenic that I really wanted to have them on the blog, if only as eye candy. Based in Asakusa, Tokyo, Funawa is a well established producer of traditional Japanese confections such as sweet potato youkan and the ankodama (bean paste balls) pictured here. I’ve never had the chance to visit the shop myself but can always look forward to receiving Funawa sweets as a souvenir of my husband’s business trips to the capital.

This typical selection box contains nine spherical pieces each coated in a gleaming layer of kanten, a thick gelatinous substance made from agar agar. Effectively separated and protected by the plastic tray, the surfaces of the truffle-sized orbs are so lustrous and smooth that they look more like perspex objets d’art than edibles. The four corner pieces are all simple azuki flavour while the five that form the central cross are (top to bottom, left to right) strawberry, matcha, mikan (mandarin), shiroan (white bean paste) and coffee.

Usually I find that when it comes to introducing additional flavours into anko, the sweet, nutty azuki tends to dominate almost totally, yet Funawa blends the bean flavour perfectly with the other essences: the strawberry is fruity, the green tea lightly herbal, the mikan has good citrus notes and the coffee has a gorgeous heady roasted aroma.

The thin skin of kanten is reminiscent of the aspic used in savoury terrines, though firmer and with a hint of sugariness to it, while the inner anko ball itself is perfectly formed, with no air bubbles or graininess to detract from the rich, smooth consistency (the blemishes visible in the pictured cross-section were made by the knife I sliced them with) Soft yet very dense, one or two pieces can prove unexpectedly filling, and besides you won’t want them to disappear too quickly, as they’re almost as satisfying to look at as to consume.

If you’re in Tokyo and looking a for a sweet treat that people from all over the country are stopping in to buy, then Funawa’s the place to go. Just be sure to drop in early, as, unsurprisingly, the ankodama tend to sell out.

Kracie Tounyuu Aisu (soy milk ice cream) Matcha – クラシエ 豆乳アイス ソイ・抹茶

So sorry for the hiatus! I haven’t had time to review for ages, as work has been hectic, but I finally had a moment to myself and chose to devote it to sampling another delicious dairy alternative: soy milk ice cream. This is always on sale at the Coop near my workplace, although I’ve never spotted it anywhere else, and comes in Vanilla, Chocolate, Strawberry and Matcha. Naturally I plumped for green tea, as I’m always curious to see how well this unique flavour translates into different substances such as chocolate and ice cream.

The relatively small 110ml pot stands out in the freezer cabinet thanks to the vivid green and gold of the lid. Soy milk constitutes a mere 30% of the ingredients, but I double-checked and confirmed that it doesn’t contain dairy. Not only could this cater to lactose intolerance, it is also cholesterol-free, so pretty healthy as far as frozen desserts go. I was a little unsettled by the almost radioactive hue of the ice cream depicted on the lid, so was relieved to find that the inner contents were a much more familiar and natural milky green tone.

There is no scent to speak of but the green tea flavour burst through immediately when I tried the first spoonful. As with many matcha products that have a milk base, the taste is at the mild and delicate end of the spectrum, with an understated hint of herbal, earthy tea leaves. So does it differ from ordinary ice cream? Well…not really. There is a sense that something is different, perhaps that it is less rich, but there is none of the curious aftertaste notable in un-flavoured products such as untreated soy milk or soy yoghurt. Consistency-wise it is creamy and rather soft, meaning that it begins to melt after only a few minutes. I tend to favour the much denser consistency of gelato, so found it a little on the wet and airy side for my taste, though it was thick enough that I knew I was eating ice cream and not a stiff milkshake for example. The overall sweetness is subtle so that it feels light and refreshing and probably wouldn’t be sickly at twice the size.

I enjoyed this: it’s fairly low calorie, not too sugary and the matcha flavour is recognisable. The only thing that might cause me to neglect it in favour of other products in future is the soft texture, as it’s not really the kind of dessert that you can sink your teeth into. Kracie’s soy ice cream is certainly a decent substitute for dairy cream. If you’re looking for a good ‘matcha ice cream’, however, I’d recommend going for something with a more concentrated flavour, such as Meiji’s green tea range.

6/10

Kracie Tounyuu Aisu Soy・Matcha  110ml  148kcal

Kamakuragoro Hangetsu Matcha – 鎌倉五郎 半月 抹茶風味

I don’t often get the chance to venture down south of chilly Hokkaido but luckily I have a jet-setting group of acquaintances who are constantly hopping across the sea to Japan’s main island of Honshuu, and usually don’t return empty-handed. It was one such friend who recently brought me some Hangetsu senbei (crackers), a popular souvenir item produced by Kamakura-based confectioner Kamakuragoro.

Hangetsu means ‘half moon’, which, as you can see, is reflected in the semicircular shape of this sweet cracker. Japanese folklore has it that a rabbit lives on the moon, hence the charming little bunny illustrations and the design in relief on the biscuit which also depicts a rabbit (sadly mine got broken in transit).

The senbei, which is matcha-flavoured – although azuki and black sesame versions are also available – has a rich, warm aroma of cinnamon infused with herbal green tea. Despite several days having passed between receiving this gift  and eating it, when I opened the wrapper it was still fresh and incredibly crisp. The dark golden colour, hint of burnt caramel flavour, and brittle texture reminds me strongly of the Pompadour fan wafers that you often find atop ice cream sundaes, although I’d venture to say that Hangetsu is even lighter and crisper.

While the senbei has a robust matcha flavour, the taste of the fluffy cream filling is much more watered-down and has a delicate, light sweetness like a pinch of powdered sugar. Some green tea notes are present, but more reminiscent of a milky matcha latte than an unadulterated cup of the real stuff.

Hangetsu being a traditional-style confection, for me the center was unexpected, as I felt that Kamakuragoro could have opted for a higher concentration of matcha in the filling, which would have produced a more recognisable earthy green tea hue, instead of the pale pastel colour you see here – I’m certain that the cracker itself would be sufficiently sweet to support the grassy flavour. However, the creamy paste is spread thinly and the airiness compliments the light crispness of the crackers nicely, making for a delicious snack overall, even if it is a little on the sugary side.

I was slightly disappointed to discover that a fair amount of artificial ingredients go into making these, but if that’s what it takes to preserve the excellent degree of freshness then I’m willing to overlook it and would definitely eat Hangetsu again.

7/10

Kamakuragoro Hangetsu (Matcha)  150kcal/pc

Otabe Namayatsuhashi – おたべ 生八つ橋

If you’ve ever been to Kyoto then you’ve probably seen namayatsuhashi, as nearly every souvenir shop displays row after row of boxes of the neatly packed triangular sweets, in every colour of the rainbow and more besides. A thin square of elastic dough, made using rice flour and sugar, folded over a glob of an (bean paste), namayatsuhashi would seem to belong to the mochi family of Japanese confectionery, yet in fact if you were to bake the outer skin you would get a kind of senbei, a crisp, crunchy rice cracker. The ‘nama’ refers to their being raw, and the cooked version, which is arch-shaped and traditionally flavoured of cinnamon, is known simply as yatsuhashi.

Namayatsuhashi are available in practically every flavour in the Japanese confectioner’s repertoire, from sweet potato to black sesame, persimmon to pumpkin, as well as western-inspired creations such as coffee and chocolate. What I’m reviewing today, however, are the more pedestrian green tea and red bean versions, an assortment of which I received recently from a kind neighbour.

Specifically, the flavours, produced by Otabe, are matcha and a second type of green tea called Uji Gyokuro. The two varieties are packaged in separate boxes of five pieces each, in the usual overlapping design (already ate two before photographing…)

The brand name is embossed into the underside of the plastic trays, so that it leaves a clear imprint on the soft skins of the namayatsuhashi, as you can see. The surfaces of both are dusted finely with kinako, a savoury soybean powder the colour of sawdust, which keeps them from sticking and also provides a pleasant toasty aroma.

Matcha consists of a green tea-flavoured dough filled with sweetened mashed red beans. The darkish mossy green hue reminds me of yomogi, a Japanese plant often used to colour breads and mochi, yet the flavour, although faint, is certainly matcha. The tsubuan center is slightly fruity and has a jammy consistency. Grains of unmashed beans with their shiny, smooth skins still intact glisten appealingly like little gems in the magenta-coloured paste. The contrast of gooey, sweet filling and powdery, chewy dough is highly satisfying.

The skins of the Uji Gyokuro are not spiced with the traditional cinnamon, and have no discernible flavour, other than a mild, somewhat bland sugariness and the savoury note of the kinako dusting. Being more finely pureed than the paste in the matcha, the translucent pale green filling is smooth and provides the same taste-progression that I’ve experienced in green tea candies: an initial honey-like sweetness followed by a lingering yet agreeable herbal aftertaste.

The dough of both the matcha and uji gyokuro is gorgeously soft and chewy but not at all stodgy, although I found that after a few days it began to dry out and lose its flavour, even before reaching the use-by date (though to be fair I didn’t store them in an airtight container).

When I first ate these, on the day I was given them, I found them absolutely delicious; perfectly fresh and soft. I’ve since eaten them twice more but found myself a little less satisfied each time. With namayatsuhashi texture is just as important as flavour and once the dough begins to dry out they’re almost not worth keeping. At the peak of freshness I would have given them a 7 or 8 out of 10 but on reflection I feel that for me these didn’t really surpass the level of ‘pleasant’, and thus I award them:

6/10

Dars Ujimatcha – ダース宇治抹茶

Although candy aisles are already awash with autumnal chestnut and pumpkin goods that I’m dying to try, I wanted to sample these green tea chocolates first. Like most popular Japanese chocolates, Dars regularly introduces new flavours, but the small boxes of 12 bite-size pieces are usually available in white, milk and dark. This version is made using matcha from Uji in Kyoto.

The outer chocolate has a lovely glossy, smooth surface and the center is the lush damp-moss colour of good-quality matcha, as opposed to the pale pastel green of matcha latte powder.

The sweets have a prevalent matcha aroma and the flavour is subtle yet earthy and, thanks to the generous proportioning of the green tea filling compared to the milk chocolate coating, the mild sweetness of the chocolate acts as a secondary note rather than a prominent flavour. While the texture may appear a little grainy it is perfectly smooth and has a good slow melt if sucked, allowing you to draw out the pleasure of eating each chunk.

I found that 12 pieces, eaten over the course of a day, to be a very satisfying serving size. If these come out again next year I’ll be sure to get some, but for now I’ve got a lot of Halloween candy to get to work on~!

8/10

Morinaga Dars Ujimatcha ￥148

Imuraya Yawamochi Aisu – Matcha Tsubuan Cup – 井村屋 やわもちアイス抹茶つぶあんカップ

I’d never heard of Imuraya before I spotted this ice cream in a supermarket freezer but it turns out they make all kinds of ice creams, syrups and azuki products. The mouthwatering concept image sets up high expectations for the actual product, meaning that I was a little let down upon seeing the contents; there was something so artificial about the flat, almost matte bean paste and evenly spaced mochi.

I was hoping for thick, glistening anko, studded with whole beans, like the packaging promised – not just the picture, ‘tsubuan’ by definition is unmashed azuki beans and therefore should be lumpy and gloopy, whereas the maroon substance surrounding the mochi here was closer to the more finely blended texture of tsubushian or koshian. Having seen much more authentic and aesthetically appealing tsubuan in other frozen desserts I expected more from a company that specialises in azuki.

However, I’m really not a snob when it comes to sweets and sometimes the cheap and cheerful products are tastiest. The anko was not overly sugary and the green tea ice cream was pleasant (although the matcha flavour could have been much bolder and the consistency a little denser), but the mochi were excellent. Among the possibly hundreds of mochi-based desserts I’ve eaten, this humble product had the best: incredibly soft and gooey despite being frozen, sticky yet melt-in-the-mouth, and subtly sweet in contrast to the concentrated flavour of the anko. Overall, Matcha Tsubuan Cup would be unremarkable if the delicious mochi didn’t make it worth trying at least once.

7/10

Quick update: Zero calorie tea and jelly, Apollo Matcha, Tirol Choco, Ichigo Milk Yoghurt, Matcha Oreos – ゼロカロリーティー・ゼリー、アポロ抹茶風味、チロルチョコ、いちごみるくクヨーグルト、オレオ抹茶風味

I haven’t had a chance to review anything for aaaaaages – I take the pictures but just don’t have time to write up reviews because of work. Soon it will be the summer holiday and there’ll be time to catch up but for now I’m just going to put up photos with a few notes~

Zero calorie peach and rosehip tea from Daiso (hundred yen shop) and zero calorie white peach jelly.

The tea is perfumey rather than fruity but the taste is pleasant. The jelly is absolutely delicious, it is very smooth – more like a cross between jam and fruit puree than jelly. The milky pink colour is pretty and the peach flavour is perfect. One of the best low-calorie products I’ve ever found.

Meiji Apollo Matcha (limited edition from Kansai)

The milk chocolate is not too sweet and, as you can tell from the rich colour, the matcha chocolate has a strong and earthy green tea flavour. Also the box design is ridiculously cute~

Tirol Choco Milk Daifuku, Raisin Sando, Azuki Parfait and Jersey Soft Cream

Milk Daifuku – a square of chewy mochi on a thin milk chocolate base, topped with a layer of thick sugar syrup and encased in white chocolate. This was pleasant in so much as if you like chocolate you’ll probably be satisfied, but I don’t think it’s anything special. The syrup was simply bland and sugary and it would have been nicer to have more flavours in play.

Jersey Milk Soft Cream – Buttery white chocolate with overtones of vanilla studded with fragments of crunchy biscuit. The biscuit has a similar texture and taste to Lotus biscuits, i.e. an element of dark, burnt sugar and cinnamon. A delicious new addition to the Tirol range and available as large individual pieces or a pack of eight minis.

Raisin Sando – Like the Jersey Milk Soft Cream this has a lovely butteriness and good vanilla flavour, thanks to the addition of ground vanilla beans. The picture highlights the problem that the crucial raisin element of this sweet is somewhat lacking, I’ve eaten this chocolate several times now and only get one or two small chunks of raisin in each candy. However, when you do get the raisin the flavour combination is excellent as the slight sharpness of the dried fruit is the perfect compliment to the rich dairy ingredients.

(I forgot to photograph the Azuki Parfait Tirols but they are wonderful – definitely try them if you can!)

Ichigo Milk Yoghurt

A strawberry dessert based on the popular ‘ichigo miruku’ candies. I found this product slightly confusing because the scent is sugary sweet, like the original candy, whereas the taste is actually quite tart with a subtle yoghurty sourness coming through, which doesn’t seem to match up with the sweetness of the smell. I enjoyed it as a fruity yoghurt but this will disappoint anyone hoping for a dessert that recreates the mild and milky flavour of the ichigo sweets.

Mini Matcha Oreos ~yummy~

 

Kanten-style Ujimatcha Jelly – 宇治抹茶の寒天風ゼリー（つぶあん入り）

After so enjoying 7-eleven’s matcha anmitsu I was curious when in the supermarket I came across what looked like a cheap DIY version, though I realised later that while this product contains the basic elements of anmitsu it doesn’t claim to be anything more than jelly. That said, it makes a pretty good-looking bowlful once you decant the individually packaged jelly cubes and anko.

The syrup is fruity, like the sugary juice from a tin of peaches. The jelly is not as firm as kanten but fairly solid – it has a little bite to it. The flavour is hard to identify, it certainly doesn’t resemble matcha or even tea, it simply has a vaguely sweet and artificial taste of gelatin. On the other hand, the anko is authentic and delicious: sweet and with a good proportion of whole beans to beanpaste.

The unsweetened beans in the syrup have a slight sour sharpness to them, which makes a nice contrast to the bland jelly. On the whole this dessert is nice and the quality is no less than you’d expect from a cheap supermarket product, but if you like this kind of sweet it’s worth going out to a cafe or even making it yourself to experience the real taste of
matcha and kanten.