Isolated for centuries, the Asian continent and its islands in the Pacific have long been a mysterious, exotic, and magical place in our thoughts. But lately, we've learned just about everything we can from them, distorting their philosophies and religions into a more accessible spiritualism for us material capitalists, and their culture has easily been summed up by Disney's Mulan and Jackie Chan flicks. All that's left for us to learn is their candy. So, embarking on a journey to the markets of Chinatown and Jackson Heights, Queens, I blew a wad of cash on Asian sweets. I have to admit though, my Westernized preferences kept me away from the shrimp-flavored crackers, the dried fish candies, and anything jellied and/or plum.

Funwaka Tenkei Marshmellow (Japan)
For years, we knew of the chocolate-marshmallow combination only as Mallomars and its imitators. Soft, gooey marshmallow encased in a hard dark chocolate shell was delicious to us, and we eagerly doled out four bucks and change for a handful. But something just as delicious was right there in front of us and we never saw it - reverse Mallomars. Only Eastern civilization could have come up with such simple brilliance: You put the marshmallow on the OUTSIDE! The result goes beyond delicious into the realm of sublime. The external marshmallow is just the right size - shaped like a small cushion and the molten chocolate nucleus is the perfect complement. The best aspect of this role reversal switcheroo is that the once-gooey marshmallow has been elevated to a soft-yet-sturdy frame, while the once-tough chocolate casing has been reduced to a soft, sweet spread. Tenkei Marshmellows [sic] is so lip-smacking good that my girlfriend practically wrote this review and she's the antithesis of the Snack Monkey. She doesn't like anything sweet, really. She's a Picky Panda.

Tung-I Nectar De Goyave (Taiwan)
8 fluid ounces of liquid death. What is up with Asians and disgusting beverages made from fruit we never even heard of, let alone drink the juice of? This tangy drink only quenches your thirst because you become too nauseas to drink anything else. And I dunno what a goyave is, but I think it's South American and the can depicts a bulbous green thing, sorta like the love child of a squash and a lime. The taste is that of a green, bulbous ass. The main ingredients are "Eau, Puree de goyave, and Sucre," or as I like to call them, "Eww, Pukee, and Sucker." My girlfriend says it's French, but then why the heck is there French writing on a can of South American juice that was manufactured in Taiwan and distributed to the US?? These Tung-I folks better get their act together.