Mint. Flavoured. Jelly.
What have I gotten myself into this time?
AvsViews presents: Smuckers Mint Jelly, a review of the product and the sammiches it can create.
by: Joseph J. "AvsJoe" Archibald
It's a leaf!
A few of you no doubt have tried this... concoction... before. But I assume that at least *as* many of you are thinking what I thought when I first saw it: What the hell? Jelly is normally supposed to be fruit flavoured, like strawberry, raspberry, grape, peach... but mint? Mint is a plant! A tasty leaf (see Figure 1.1). How do they make jelly out of leaves anyway? Do they grind them up and add water and whatever the heck else makes jelly? Reading the ingredients doesn't help much; apparently apple juice is added somewhere during the process. Oh well, at least there isn't any artificial flavouring. The colour is artificial though...
Well, I had to find out what it tasted like, so I worked a couple of overtime shifts and cut my spending to buy this $2 jar of jam. It was difficult, very difficult, but I was able to raise the money. Now here I am, staring at two slices of bread that are positioned in a way that makes them seem like they are eager to get underway (Figure 1.2) and a miniature jar that seems to be mocking me despite its stature. I am feeling nervous at best, putting off the tasks, nay, the trials that I have set for myself:
1) Jam on bread
2) Jam on toast
3) Jam on bread with brand name peanut butter
4) Jam on bread with brand name hazlenut spread (my favourite!)
1) 250g jar of Mint jelly
2) 1kg tub of peanut butter
3) 750g tub of hazlenut spread
4) 680g loaf of "Steakhouse" brand white bread (highly recommended, very tasty)
5) small plate
6) two (2) butterknives, one for jelly and one for the others
7) 1L brand name fruit punch (just in case I need it)
8) computer and keyboard
9) little confidence
I will complete these tasks on the assumption that I don't projectile vomi-barf all over my keyboard and monitor (image not included). I doubt that'll happen since I enjoy mint flavour but it is nonetheless on my mind. Even if I do not like the jelly, I will soldier on for your entertainment (for I am your monkey; my purpose on this Earth is to make you happy. Dance, monkey, dance!).
Well, enough putzing aroung and delaying my destiny, it's time to make me a sammich, b*tch!
Ze Jello, it does nussing!
Whoa, cool! It's acting a lot more like Jell-O than jelly (Figure 1.3). You could almost say it's *fun* to spread this on the bread.
...but it smells awful...
Whelp, here goes...
*chomp* *chomp* *chomp*
Doesn't taste much better. It's not horrible, but it's not great. The expiry date isn't until January of 2012 so I guess this is what is supposed to taste like. The mint flavour is there alright; it's overpowering the bread like the metaphorical shot of Bailey's that Yahtzee mentioned once in a video of his (This one, about 2:50 in).
Well, halfway through I decide to stop with this sammich. Ctrl+E, time to edit this creation by adding a new contestant!
The brand name peanut butter tub sits uncapped, mimicking an open maw. I dig to the bottom to scrape out the remaining light brown goodness with glee. The glob I pull up sits on my butterknife, reveling in its lethargy, indifferent to the world. This, I note, is in stark contrast to the wobbly, energetic jelly I had scooped up minutes earlier. I open the sandwich, half-eaten and fully dead, and begin spreading the peanut butter as I always have: place the glob in the center and spread it towards the edges. When I finish, I notice that the village of jelly pales in comparison to the metropolis of PB so I begrudgingly decide to add more jelly to the sammich. While I had previously stated that it was "fun" to spread the jelly, the second time doing so is more of an annoyance, like attempting to swat a particularly dextrous insect ("STAY ON THE KNIFE YOU GELATINOUS BLOB!" I scream to the green, viscous substance). Finally, after many seconds of struggle, the jelly resigns and submits to my will. The spreading was easy. I note that the ratio of jam to PB has improved significantly and I proceed to press the bread slices together without incident. As I write this, I realize that my attempt to write like a Victorian-era scholar sounds pretentious as all hell (because it is) so I make the decision to stop after this moderately lengthy sentence is complete.
Mark Twain, I am not.
So, I skipped trial 2 and am now ready to proceed to 3. The smell of the peanut butter easily overpowers the once powerful mint. But enough of the chit-chat (type-type?), it's time to chow...
om nom nom nom...
I hope this makes up for the giraffe.
Much better! I am pleased to announce that, while mint jam doesn't hold up well on its own, it compliments peanut butter nicely; the mint and peanut flavours perform a wonderful ballet rather than an inexperience grind on the dance floor of the mouth (too much?). Finishing the sammich was a treat.
Now for the fourth and final step: A Hazlenut/Mint sammich!
Since I promised not to write any more pretentio-speak, I am going to write up a Coles Notes description of the sammich creation:
I grabbed two more slices of bread from the loaf and placed them on the plate.
I began pulling the knife from the PB tub but I fumbled it and got peanut butter on my white "Molson Canadian" shirt.
I hope peanut butter comes out in the wash.
I clean the knife.
I open the tub of brand name hazlenut spread.
I grab a glob and spread it on the slice.
I grab a glob of jelly and spread it on the other slice (no hassle, thankfully).
I form a sammich.
Google Image Search: providing Outside-of-the-(Orange)-Box image solutions since 2001
Well, I hope that you have enjoyed this so far (I forgive you TL;DRs out there, this was a bit lengthy) because we are about to take on:
THE FINAL BOSS!
*cue epic music*
I hope I made a choice that we can all agree on; something that isn't overplayed but still recognizable as awesome.
I forcefully grab the wild sammich and attempt to stare it down. Much to my surprise, I feel it staring back at me, peering into my very soul. I know this is impossible, but...
no, no, no! I promised. No more faux Ivy-League pretentiousness. And no Kevin Costner speeches, let's just go.
To quote Seth Rogen from Pineapple Express: "I made a mistake." This is horrid! Mint and hazlenut do not good bedfellows make. I admit to putting way too much jelly on the sammich though, that is what I assume to be the problem. BLEH! I don't think I'm gonna need to take a swig of the emergency fruit punch just yet but I certainly will after the sammich is completely devoured. Ugh, let's get this over with...
*chomp* *chomp* *chomp* *chomp* *chomp* *chomp* *chomp*
*chug* *chug* *chug*
Hey, does this mean I defeated the boss with low HP, or did the boss win? Or, did I defeat the boss and the game, but got the bad ending instead of the good one? Help, my analogy is biting me in the buttocks!
Recommendation: With moderation and a powerful dance partner, mint jelly has the power to surprise. But alone or with a weaker dance partner, it can destroy your sandwich and ruin your t-shirt. I'll recommend the more adventurous of you to try it out but to the general public I say:
Score: 2 yum-yums out of 5
Final thoughts: Nothing really. I hope you leave a comment or two and I welcome all criticism, constructive or otherwise. Any tips on how I can improve my style will be greatly appreciated. Thank you all and if I don't see you again, good afternoon, good evening, and goodnight!