Muffin Loaf
I'm not sure what distinguishes a "muffin loaf" from "bread," or
alternatively "cake." Probably the rising sun on the package, which
is the Hostess ideogram for "eat this at breakfast, sugar-slave."
Anyhow, this artificially fruit-flavored food brick
has the same chemical mouth-feel as the rest of the Hostess gang,
only sans filling and frosting. D
Frosted Donettes
Leaving aside the fact that the word "Donette" would logically
indicate a miniature Don, you have to admire the way Hostess
extends the shelf life of these little bakery knobs by
sending them out of the factory with the same taste and texture
one would expect from stale doughnuts. Add to that the fact
that the sell-by date doesn't have a visible year,
and you have the ultimate chocolate-swaddled mystery snack. B
Sno-Balls
These are just plain weird. Even the ones that aren't dyed
green are weird. When you observe other attempts to arrange a
common-law marriage of marshmallow and baked goods -- s'mores,
moon pies, &c. -- the unwritten law is "the marshmallow goes on
the inside," the better to protect the chewing public from the
Unheimlichkeit of fingering the marshmallow hive-mind.
Sno-balls ignore this important stricture, even going so far as
to dust the things with coconut sprinkles inevitably reminiscent
of pubic hair. Heironymous Bosch would have chorfed these things
by the armload. C
Orange Cupcakes
They're orange. They don't really taste like oranges, though. They're
vaguely citric, but not something you'd want to accuse an actual orange
of contributing to. They're very orange, though, somewhere between
"Orange Crush orange" and "Sunny Delight orange." The sort of orange you
figure could substitute for road flares in a pinch. As if they were
designed to coordinate well with a home made entirely out of
marshmallow circus peanuts. And they taste kinda that way, too. B-
Tiger Tails
Boy, that's an appetizing name! I can taste the fur already! And they
look for all the world like Twinkies that have been decorated by
third-graders! Thus we continue in the grand Hostess tradition of
minor revamps of classic treats, the better to stomp Little
Debbie back into the unfertile soil from which she was summoned. C-