The last twenty-four hours have been so tense and, because we finally convinced a landlord to trust us with his property, the reward for my success is more stress moving from a three bedroom house to a two room unit. I’ve spent hours each night exhausted but kept awake by my thoughts.
But now it’s Friday night, and I deserve a pop-tart.
Usually I leave them for The Husband. He loves them so, and I’m sure they’re just high-calorie junk. But I deserve some sugary, chemically trash tonight.
I thought I knew all the places in Sydney you could buy pop-tarts, but I’d never thought of looking in a tiny suburban IGA before! Expensive little morsels that they are, I’m glad I indulged The Husband in them. He has so few food delights!
I offer to do the toasting and he comes to take over, concerned I’ll burn them. Oh, I see, there’s two in each foil package. He pops two brown rectangles down… and spring! Less than a minute and – according to the box – now we have hot chocolate pastries.
Pastries? That’s a funny use of the word. They’re much more like crunchy chocolate biscuits oozing moist filling with some strange hard icing than pastries. Standard brown chocolate colour. Pretend sugar sprinkling.
Nibble a corner. Just the hard biscuit, no filling. Average chocolate biscuit flavour and texture.
Taste the frosting. It cracks when I snap it but I can’t actually separate its taste from the sandwich it sits on.
Okay, let’s go for the goo!
Yes, it is the best thing about the pop-tart. It’s warm and soft and tastes just like under-cooked cake batter. I like warm raw cake batter. With the filling the pop-tart begins to feel more like a brownie than just a biscuit.
It’s okay. I don’t see The Husband’s fascination, but anything warm and cocoa-flavoured is welcome during winter.
It’s not a pastry though. I feel like that’s an abuse of English to call it that. It’s a biscuit you put in the toaster. Even the icing is a bit like the top of an Arnott’s Hundreds & Thousands. Just a 200 calorie biscuit. That’s all.
Rating:
Specifics: Chocolate Fudge Pop-Tart, bought from the IGA in East Lindfield
Chocolate Fudge Pop-Tart
The last twenty-four hours have been so tense and, because we finally convinced a landlord to trust us with his property, the reward for my success is more stress moving from a three bedroom house to a two room unit. I’ve spent hours each night exhausted but kept awake by my thoughts.
But now it’s Friday night, and I deserve a pop-tart.
Usually I leave them for The Husband. He loves them so, and I’m sure they’re just high-calorie junk. But I deserve some sugary, chemically trash tonight.
I thought I knew all the places in Sydney you could buy pop-tarts, but I’d never thought of looking in a tiny suburban IGA before! Expensive little morsels that they are, I’m glad I indulged The Husband in them. He has so few food delights!
I offer to do the toasting and he comes to take over, concerned I’ll burn them. Oh, I see, there’s two in each foil package. He pops two brown rectangles down… and spring! Less than a minute and – according to the box – now we have hot chocolate pastries.
Pastries? That’s a funny use of the word. They’re much more like crunchy chocolate biscuits oozing moist filling with some strange hard icing than pastries. Standard brown chocolate colour. Pretend sugar sprinkling.
Nibble a corner. Just the hard biscuit, no filling. Average chocolate biscuit flavour and texture.
Taste the frosting. It cracks when I snap it but I can’t actually separate its taste from the sandwich it sits on.
Okay, let’s go for the goo!
Yes, it is the best thing about the pop-tart. It’s warm and soft and tastes just like under-cooked cake batter. I like warm raw cake batter. With the filling the pop-tart begins to feel more like a brownie than just a biscuit.
It’s okay. I don’t see The Husband’s fascination, but anything warm and cocoa-flavoured is welcome during winter.
It’s not a pastry though. I feel like that’s an abuse of English to call it that. It’s a biscuit you put in the toaster. Even the icing is a bit like the top of an Arnott’s Hundreds & Thousands. Just a 200 calorie biscuit. That’s all.
Rating:
Specifics: Chocolate Fudge Pop-Tart, bought from the IGA in East Lindfield