Food Porn IX

“Whopper Wednesday”

Remember the Pepsi Challenge? Folks were asked to choose between two colas whose labels were hidden. Those who chose Pepsi got on TV and those who chose Coke were never heard from again.

An impromptu malt ball challenge was recently held at work. It came up as a result of the salt/sugar snackies I put out for my co-workers each day—there is always a bowl of chips, cheezies or pretzels, and a smaller bowl of fruit chews, chocolate or gummies. I try to accommodate preferences, but one day I put out my favourite Maltesers and caused a controversy.” These aren’t as good as Whoppers,” my ungrateful minion declared. “Whoppers are better.”

“You mean the cheapo crap malt balls from when we were kids?” I asked, duly offended.

“Yeah,” she replied. She made a face. “These are too oily and not malty enough.”

That’s stupid, I thought. According to my palate, Maltesers are light, crunchy, and plenty malty. “We should do a challenge,” my minion suggested.

Damn straight. Confident of a landslide Malteser victory, I set about preparing the test lab. Two identical bowls. An equal number of malt balls in each. Shiny, uniform Maltesers on the left, muddy cheapo Whoppers on the right. On appearance alone, the Maltesers would win. My minion and I invited three people in our division to take the challenge.

All three liked the muddy cheapo Whoppers better, but my malt ball motto is “never say die.”

Time to expand the target audience.

I knew for a fact that my tea fairy would side with me, so off we went to her corner of the floor. When she wasn’t at her desk, we pigeon-holed the co-op student and asked her to take the challenge instead.

She picked the Whopper.

My tea fairy Treena rounded the corner. “You missed the challenge!” my minion crowed.

Bewildered and despairing at a missed opportunity for treats, Treena looked at me. “What challenge?”

“Maltesers versus Whoppers,” I replied.

She scoffed. “That’s no challenge. Maltesers are better.”

Yes! High-five, Treena!

My minion folded her arms. “Sore loser.”

“Not really,” I replied. “Since everyone prefers the cheapo crappy malt balls, it won’t cost me so much to feed y’all.”

But sometimes the kids eat what Mum likes because Mum likes it and she doesn’t care about them. A few weeks later, I put out Maltesers. My minion popped one and rudely interrupted my conversation with the office manager. “Hey!” she exclaimed. “These are the losers!”

I arched a high brow. “You mean Maltesers? So they are.”

Her brows lowered. “Even though the majority of people prefer Whoppers?”

“And no one has ever gone broke underestimating the taste of the general public,” I retorted.

I may go broke trying to elevate the taste of my public, though. It’s a hard thing to admit defeat, so any malt balls I’ve put out lately have been Maltesers.