"You Shouldn't Have . . . No, Seriously, You Really Shouldn't Have"
Thanks -- if that's the word -- to Beth, the American abroad, for a package that arrived in the mail on Out-Like-a-Lamb Day, March 31: a Turkish Delight bar.
She said she'd been meaning to send it to me ever since reading my December post about that confection's appearance in The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe and a hilarious Slate article by Liesl Schillinger called "The Lion, the Witch, and the Really Foul Candy."
Beth's gift is not authentic Turkish Delight but rather a candy bar made by Cadbury (love its kid-magnet slogan: "Full of Eastern Promise"), which I assume Beth bought in London, not on one of her many world travels. This version is referenced in the Slate article, and as unappetizing as it is -- gum-tinglingly sweet red jelly-like filling covered by flavorless (but sweet!) chocolate -- it sounds like the real thing is far worse (and completely different): as Schillinger puts it, "like soap rolled in plaster dust, or like a lump of Renuzit air freshener."
Since writing that post, I actually saw the Lion, Witch, Wardrobe movie, which I found lushly tedious. (To give you an idea of where I'm coming from, I also found the one Lord of the Rings movie I saw to be beautiful but boring; I told you I don' t like kids' movies.) My main thought about the Narnia movie: I don't remember all these battle scenes in the book. A friend who read LWW more recently than I confirmed that they weren't as prevalent in the original but were pumped up for modern movie audiences. (Come to think of it, I have no recollection of Turkish Delight anywhere in the movie, though the Slate article mentions its role there. I may have nodded off by then.) I can guarantee you that a book filled with battle scenes would not have appealed to the ten-year-old me. And I do have fond memories of the book.
Now if I could just get this vile aftertaste out of my mouth.
She said she'd been meaning to send it to me ever since reading my December post about that confection's appearance in The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe and a hilarious Slate article by Liesl Schillinger called "The Lion, the Witch, and the Really Foul Candy."
Beth's gift is not authentic Turkish Delight but rather a candy bar made by Cadbury (love its kid-magnet slogan: "Full of Eastern Promise"), which I assume Beth bought in London, not on one of her many world travels. This version is referenced in the Slate article, and as unappetizing as it is -- gum-tinglingly sweet red jelly-like filling covered by flavorless (but sweet!) chocolate -- it sounds like the real thing is far worse (and completely different): as Schillinger puts it, "like soap rolled in plaster dust, or like a lump of Renuzit air freshener."
Since writing that post, I actually saw the Lion, Witch, Wardrobe movie, which I found lushly tedious. (To give you an idea of where I'm coming from, I also found the one Lord of the Rings movie I saw to be beautiful but boring; I told you I don' t like kids' movies.) My main thought about the Narnia movie: I don't remember all these battle scenes in the book. A friend who read LWW more recently than I confirmed that they weren't as prevalent in the original but were pumped up for modern movie audiences. (Come to think of it, I have no recollection of Turkish Delight anywhere in the movie, though the Slate article mentions its role there. I may have nodded off by then.) I can guarantee you that a book filled with battle scenes would not have appealed to the ten-year-old me. And I do have fond memories of the book.
Now if I could just get this vile aftertaste out of my mouth.
posted by Billy at 11:17 PM
7 Comments:
Purchased in London at Benjy's, aka the sandwich shop for those too cheap to go to Pret a Manger. (Which I am not -- I just like Benjy's cherry pie, which, like Turkish delight, no doubt has ingredients that would make Pret shudder with horror...)
is turkish delite anything like the yummy chocolate cover jellies (raspberry in particular) that one gets at trader joes?
I seriously doubt it. I'd invite you over for a taste test, but that would entail digging through the trash for the remainder of the candy.
hm. a vaguely remember having one of those cadbury ones before and thinking it wasn't all that bad.
Of course, you also like cheddar beer kettle chips ... which, well, we'll just leave it at that.
So does the wrapper say "Torkish" or is that an unfortunate glare effect?
It says Turkish. Though if Torkish means revolting, then maybe I'm wrong.
I remember that Turkish Delight was also featured in another children's book I loved, Roller Skates, based on the real-life experiences of a little girl in 1890's New York. I always imagined that it tasted like halvah, which I used to think was pretty good but haven't tried since I was about 12.
We have two unfinished boxes of Turkish delight from Greece (interestingly, it's called Greek Delight on the box, funny, that...) sitting in a drawer in the kitchen. It is flavored with rosewater and bergamot (probably why someone wrote that it tasted like soap), and covered in powdered sugar, and while I find it revolting - it's chewy and gelatinous at the same time, and sickeningly sweet, the husband claimed to like it when we got it as a gift from someone. But he hasn't touched it since we got it about a year ago...
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