Thursday, July 31, 2008

"Thanks to modern science, any flavor (synthetic interpretations of natural flavor) can be duplicated": straight from the Bonne Bell horse's mouth.



My elementary-school affinity for Lip Smackers preemptively ruined my taste for artificial flavors. I’ve had a terrible habit of constantly wetting my lips since at least the first grade, when my soccer coach asked me over and over whether the red rim around my mouth was Kool-Aid. No, I told him. My lips were just dry. And so eventually I amassed dozens of brightly colored chapstick tubes in every variety imaginable: bubble gum, mint chocolate, pink lemonade, blueberry, kiwi strawberry, Dr. Pepper. I carried one with me everywhere, constantly alternating and rarely using them up since I had so many. The first time I noticed the unexpected effects of such a collection, though, was when I happened to try a piece of raspberry-flavored white chocolate. It was good, but—it tasted like my raspberry white chocolate chapstick! The thought of gnawing on one of those waxy lip balms prevented me from finishing the candy.

The phenomenon repeated itself last week when the camp that was in requested Turkish delight for dessert. They were going with a Chronicles of Narnia theme, and wanted to replicate the treat the White Witch gave to Edward. Lisa crafted a batch from scratch, and we eagerly sampled the result in the kitchen. It was good, but—it tasted like a strawberry Lip Smacker. Even though it’s been almost a decade since I owned one.

6 comments:

Daniel Nadal said...

I am of the firm believe that some chapstick brands have in them a substance that results in them being addictive: once that chapstick ceases to be used, the lips will become chapped, simply because said substance is removed.

And ... that's saddening. =(

Daniel Nadal said...

PS If I recall correctly, it's Edmund.

Kaitlin said...

Ooh, you're right. Shameful. I don't know about the addictiveness claim, though. I've heard it before, and in my case, as pictures from my first-grade birthday party would attest, it was definitely a pre-existing condition...

Grant said...

At least the Turkish Delight tasted like something edible. When my family bought it for the first time the flavor was something akin to rose scented soap.

Kaitlin said...

The recipe we used actually called for rose flavoring, but unfortunately, we didn't have any handy in the camp kitchen...

Shannon Barr said...

Firm *belief, Daniel. I dare say, how are you going to impress Kaitlin with such frightening typos. Tsk, tsk.