Bisca Lemon Bite Size

I like sweet things—everyone does, but I have a bit of a sweet tooth—so sometimes I pick up some kind of baked goods from the store. Today, that was a packet of Bisca Lemon Bite Size, because I was bored with the stuff I normally get.

Jesus H. Christ on a freaking pogo stick, these have to be among the most disgusting baked treats I have ever had the displeasure of putting in my mouth; not because of some peculiar and especially vile component, but because damn, these things are sweet. Overpoweringly, nauseatingly sweet, in fact.

Your experience with Bite Sizes starts when you extract them from the package. Before you are small cuboid cakes, about 2-3 cm wide, and the first hint of what's to come comes when you try to pick one up: they're sticky, very much so. They may look dry and stable, but the frosting feels almost greasy to the touch, and you may begin to regret your purchase already at this point.

Turn it over a few times. Realize that this yellow, greasy cube seems to be completely covered in a coat of frosting thicker than elephant hide. You may begin to catch a whiff of its scent, which at this distance doesn't really seem that bad, but merely slightly lemony and while not exactly pleasant, not exactly offensive either. This all changes when you move the treat to the vicinity of your mouth to take a bite, at which point the full brunt of its smell begins to assault your nostrils; a sickening odor that reminds me more of lemon-scented soap than actual lemons.

Finally, you get to bite into this wretched thing. The box cover offered a smooth core of spongecake, but there's disappointingly little actual spongecake inside this thing. It seems to be 60% frosting, at least, and as mentioned it's sickeningly sweet. It's not even naturally sweet—it tastes extremely synthetic. You might as well just be eating the frosting straight from the hose or whatever this stuff comes out of. I couldn't even finish one piece. So, in conclusion, when next you're at the store, be sure to avoid these culinary trainwrecks like the plague.

Comments

1
jolle On July 27 2007 (July 27 2007 07:52)

Thanks for the warning... although I'm almost becoming curious enough to try them.

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