Hey, not bad. You'd think that American candy would have covered all reasonable permutations this side of fudge-dipped yak nougat, but they've somehow overlooked "Choc-coated marshmallow filled wafer," more's the pity. "Choc" in this case refers to something listed on the ingredient label as "compounded chocolate," which sounds like something you'd earn at the First Bank of Snackville but which is actually a combination of chocolate and things you normally would specifically request to be kept out of your chocolate. But hey, it's Pollywaffle! B+
More "choc," this time in the form of "choc-orange in a crisp shell." I couldn't figure out what made the orange aspect of this candy so odd until I realized that it tastes more or less like real oranges, which is a rarity in the world of snack foods. Anyway, the back of the package claims that if you laid all the Jaffas sold in one year end to end, "you'd eat your way from Darwin to Hobart." I can only assume these are the names of a lovable pair of talking dachshunds from a children's television show. C+
One of the least disturbing of the items shipped to me, these are chocolate biscuits ("biscuits" being the Australian term for what we call "empty calories") coated in chocolate with some sort of chocolatey substance between them. Like most of these items, they seem to contain some sort of secret mega-sweet ingredient that makes my pancreas throb. I think it's called "cane sugar." Heaven knows I'm used to sweet stuff, but a few bites of these and I feel like I've been mugged by an Oompa-Loompa. B
Whoa, hey! These are great! These are mint-chocolate cookies and -- I'm bordering on treason here -- they're better than the Thin Mints the Girl Scouts hawk. This is because they've managed to coax the minty goop from Junior Mints into immoral cohabitation with a cookie in a disreputable hotel of chocolate. I'd love to see what the people responsible for these things could do with Do-Si-Dos. A
As if the words "Cherry Ripe" in big yellow lettering weren't enough, the package also explains that this candy bar contains "Ripe Juicy Cherries." I don't know if there was some scandal involving underripe cherry treats in Australia's history or if we're just supposed to admire their patience, but comes across as overcompensation either way. C-
I was relieved to find out that this contains neither fried chicken nor potato salad. To the contrary, it's actually a pretty reasonable log o'candy, somewhat reminiscent of a 100 Grand Bar, except without being conveniently halved. More package fun: a suggestion that you "please dispose of empty package thoughtfully," which puts me in the mind of considering the motif of duality in the works of Gabriel Garcia Marquez while tossing the wrapper over your shoulder. B-
Thanks to Contessa Choculum for her contribution to the Cause.