Cute Foreign Foods

I love the 17th Street Farmer’s Market . Every once in a while I manage to pry myself away from the regular grocery store grind. When I do, I make straight for this little Market.

One of the beauties of the store is the variety of food you can find there. Occasionally, you hit a real gem.Walking down the isles of the food labeled in Japanese, Chinese, and very possibly other Asian languages that I can’t read, I happened upon two awesome finds. These were better than the strange animal body parts. These are items with funky labels.

Made with real house wives!

I bring to you House Wife soy sauce. It provides you all the saltiness of regular soy sauce, but with an added 10% house wife in every bottle!

I would like to know who names this stuff. Who looks at this and goes “this would do wonderfully in an American market”? Do they even expect Americans to buy it? Are they banking on people like me to purchase the item for shits and giggles? I managed to leave this particular item on the shelf.

What I couldn’t get away without buying was a .69 cent can of Hello Boss. Nothing helps you wake up in the morning like a delicious can of iced coffee made in Taiwan. Wait… what?

Taking a closer look at this product, the ingredient list was a good sign. Naturally, my friend pointed out that in most other countries food regulations are not so strict. Every single additive in the drink may not be listed. Still, I was hopeful: Water, coffee, sugar, milk powder, natural flavor.

Good morning, employer.

Just a little below the ingredients, I ran across this frightening little disclaimer:

* Milk fat may sometimes solidify. This however will not affect the quality of your beverage.

Something between the ingredients, the warning, and the cute little title made me buy a can. I was excited to discover how terrible it was.

After two days and much hemhawing, I finally cracked open the vacuum sealed tab and took a swig. Tasty. Hello Boss tasted no different than the Starbuck’s bottled coffee. Way to be anti-climactic.

I feel as though I’m being lulled into a false sense of security. Next time I try that tasty dumpling looking thing on the shelf, I’ll regret my complacency.