Oh, my.

So it’s been a little over a month since we’ve had the official taste test of this Jones Tofurkey and Gravy soda. That’s mainly because, in the back of my mind, I’ve spent this entire time trying to come up with the adjectives to do it justice. I still haven’t fully come to terms with my experience, so please bear with me as I scrape the bottom of this barrel for the phrases necessary to convince you to never, ever try this soda.

But no matter what I say, you’re just going to try it anyhow. I know from experience: When you’re in a position to take a sip, curiosity over this trainwreck-in-a-bottle will get the best of you. But that’s OK. It’s all in good fun.

Jones dreams up these limited-edition soda flavors and sells them every year right around the holidays. A Turkey & Gravy soda made its debut in 2003, and other flavors followed almost every year after that, most notably 2004’s Mashed Potato soda and 2007’s Christmas Ham soda. I have no doubt that Tofukey & Gravy will return for Holiday 2010, because it’s got appeal to people who used to get a kick out of eating things their friends dared them to. Which is almost everybody, I think. Oh, and it’s vegan. That scores Jones some points from those who don’t partake in the holiday poultryfest.

So when you go to the Jones Web site to place your order, there are a couple of strategically placed red flags, all of which you will ignore. The first is the soda’s tagline, which reads in exaggerated sans-serif font, “Soda you can chew on.” Has anyone ever really wanted that?

The second warning is a turkey holding a sign that reads “Turkey approved.” But look closer: this turkey is absolutely terrified. If you Photoshopped a gun to its head, it would resemble a possible hostage situation. Its blue eyes are almost pleading with you to go back from whence you came. But you won’t listen. You’ll place an order, and the box will arrive on your doorstep fairly quickly. Just in time for a party, where you and your bravest friends will pass the bottles around in a circle and compare stinky faces after you take your first sips. “Ugggh,” “Whoah…eghh” and two octaves worth of gurgling noises soon follow the slightly sweet and overall rancid flavor of gravy, diluted Dimetapp and artificial sweeteners.  Hey, the turkey warned you. Sorta.

The best thing out of the whole deal was the collector’s metal lunch box the soda came with — but even then, I didn’t feel right about keeping it because it had a cute little cartoon depicting an animated wad of Tofurkey at the circus. I dislike both Tofurkey and the circus. Wait, why did I want to try this soda again?

Photo credits: Turkey and lunchbox photos are from Jonessoda.com.

Hey all:

Please forgive me for the obvious plug you’re about to read, but I just can’t contain my excitement. (Plus, a little horn-tootin’ never hurts in moderation.)

So: The California Strawberry Commission this week launched its iPhone app featuring 50 recipes from chefs and fellow bloggers. One of my recipes is included (toot!). There’s all kinds of stuff in there ranging from cocktails to desserts, and some of the recipes featured come from some of my favorite bloggers like Cookin’ Canuck, Michael Ruhlman and Ravenous Couple. It’s great to be included in a group with bloggers I personally hold in high esteem.

I hope you can check it out! Click on this link to open iTunes on your computer and download. 

Regular posting resumes next week. Good weekends to all, and thank you for reading.

There once was a Le Creuset pot,
Whose insides were blackened a lot,
When a cook disregarded
To stir constantly when prompted –
Please learn from her: stir more often than not!

You and I both know that candymaking requires way more attention than say, a casserole or whatever you cook in that Set-it-and-Forget-it Ronco thing you got for Christmas. I don’t have to tell you that. But I do have to tell me that.

It’s what I like to call Recipe Performance Fatigue. After making a recipe a dozen times, you start to get a little lazy with it. Ingredients are skipped, corners are cut. The beauty of cooking is that most of the time, your dish will still be fabulous despite the RPF tendencies you gravitated toward while making it. But candymaking doesn’t have room for all that corner-cutting. This is especially true when you’re making caramels and are dealing with sugar that boils and bubbles like the contents of an active Hawaiian volcano.

RPF is how I skipped the part about “stirring constantly,” ultimately leading to the stubborn black circle of carbon lining the bottom of my beloved enameled pot.

But I will say that the Le Creuset pot’s demise wasn’t in vain. For one, I’ve been scrubbing and soaking it for a couple of weeks and it seems to be slowly helping in lifting out the blackened mess. And to my surprise, the batch of caramels set up beautifully, glistening and cracking in all the right places when you cut them. And they were lacking any foul taste that would hint at my kitchen debacle. It was a Christmas miracle, so much so that I had to sprinkle them with fleur de sel — delicate flakes and tiny cubes that would come as close to snow as Southern California would allow. RPF, eat your heart out! Now, back to scrubbing my pot.

(Click on “Read the rest of this entry” for recipe.)

Read the rest of this entry »