Butter and maple syrup: the two best parts of the pancake, together at last, without all that pesky bread getting in the way.
If a charming block of English Butter Fudge decided to cross the pond and have a torrid love affair with a Canuck named Maple Sugar Candy, they might conceive a child named Maple Flavored Fudge, and he'd look and taste something like this...although phrasing it that way sounds a little weird.
This candy is quite mapley. Some of you might have guessed as much, but considering there are about four different types of sugar as well as butter, milk, and cream all listed in the ingredients above maple syrup, I didn't take it as a given. It's just like traditional maple candy except much more buttery. The butteriness is a good thing in my book.
I like maple candy okay, but I tire of it after just a piece or two. I don't really tire of the flavor of these dealies quite as quickly, but I do stop in relatively short order anyway for fear of the enamel on my teeth being replaced by a glaze of maplicious sugar and a resident brood of bone-boring bacteria taking up residence in my mouth.
Seriously, though, I can feel this stuff on my teeth after just a single piece, and I'm overwhelmed with the urge to chew gum or gargle Listerine almost immediately. On the plus side, it's not nearly as hard as toffee. The texture is nice and soft with just a bit of graininess. It feels firm enough in your fingers, but it absolutely melts in your mouth.
Sonia's a fan, and she isn't as concerned with oral hygiene as I am, apparently. So, you know, if you've got a sweet tooth and good dental insurance, have at it...
$2.99 for about 5 servings of 3 fudge pieces each. Four stars from the beautiful wifey. She'd buy again. I really do like the rich maple taste, but my dental hangup might prevent me from buying again any time soon. I'll throw out three and a half stars.
My dad used to make pumpkin muffins with barley flour back when I was a kid. I got sick of them pretty fast, but I didn't have the heart to tell him, and my mom would request them quite often.
"I made pumpkin muffins again, Nathan!" I'd hear him declare from the kitchen.
"Oh grrreat...I'll, um, I'll come grab one as soon as I'm done with my homework," I'd reply.
In a way, these pumpkin ginger scones remind me of my dad's pumpkin muffins, probably because they both contain barley flour and pumpkin puree, although these are much better, flavor-wise. The texture is a tad different, of course, but the insides of these scones were a little muffin-esque, at least to me.
They came out much flakier and scone-like on the outside. I kind of liked the subtle difference in textures. I was also surprised at how much larger the scones got after baking. I mean, I knew they were going to expand a bit, but I'd say they at least doubled in size while heating, if not tripled. It doesn't look like a whole lot of food while frozen, but it's way too much bread for two people for one sitting, even if Sonia and I are carbivorous pumpkin gluttons.
I could see these becoming dry or even coming out undercooked if you don't nail the baking time and temperature exactly. The instructions offer an option to brush the pastries with milk or cream, so I used half and half. Can't tell if it helped much or not, but I guess it couldn't really have hurt. The scones really wanted to stick to the parchment paper after heating, but other than that, they were really nice and flaky, buttery, and flavorful.
They're surprisingly not that sweet. Uncharacteristically, Sonia was the one pining for a glaze or icing of some kind. I can see where she's coming from, but I was fine with them plain. The pumpkin spice blend was pleasant and well-balanced, with a particular emphasis on ginger—but it wasn't an exaggerated raw ginger explosion, either.
$4.99 for a dozen scones. I think we're looking at double fours here. Would possibly buy again next year.
