Slurped: The Penang-Style Fried Cubes at Sanur
We all agreed that the restaurant being in a basement was not off-putting. This could not be said of the steep and grimy stairs which lead to 18B Doyers, the restaurant portion of Sanur. Still, I would happily take those stairs again for another serving of the ineptly named "fried-cubes," certainly the most cubically shaped noodles I have ever eaten. More

Now Robyn gave me snack packs of Hello Panda and Koala March to try last night after our noodle extravaganza, and so try them I did. I tried them once after dinner, and then polished off the rest for a healthy and protein-packed breakfast….or, not.
Impressions:
First of all, I would like a clearer defense from my compatriots who prefer Koala March to Hello Panda. Um, why? The biscuit itself was dry and tasteless, qualities which in and of themselves would not be so offensive were it not for the filling:
I forced myself to ingest the dreadful substance, at one point fumbling it around inside my mouth at the tip of my tongue, so that no one area of my palate need be exposed to the filling for more seconds than was necessary, and felt its waxiness melt and slide like sludge, or tar, down my throat. I tried to search for the right words to describes its taste, but none came to mind, because there was almost NO TASTE. You could call it sweet, or vaguely chocolate-ly, but such descriptors would be an affront to that which is genuinely sweet or tastes like chocolate. Bad texture, bad taste…what is there left to like?
For those who disagree, please rebut with reasons rather than unfounded opinions boiling down to “I just like it,” because I am not disputing the epistemological possibility that you would have different taste preferences than I; I am simply curious as to whether or not you have your reasons for those preferences.
Moving on.
Hello Panda: Oh yes, oh yes. More, please! These were…..surprisingly tasty! A crumbly and rich shell; a fudge-like chocolate-ly filling.
Unlike some folks – and this I recognize is a minor point in the grand scheme of things – I do not think it needs more filling. More would ruin the balance between cookie and filling, veering it dangerously into the category of candy rather than cookie. Imagine if the filling were even 20% more: then the entire inner surface area of the cookie would be coated. It would be terribly sweet.
For the same reason that I object to double-filled oreos, I simply cannot tolerate more than a certain level of sweetness in my cookie. And notice what it says on the packaging: Hello Panda’s intent is to offer us “Biscuits with Choco Cream” rather than, say, “Chocolate-filled Biscuits.” The emphasis is on the cookie, rather than the chocolate.
As well it should be. The cookie is pretty damn good – crumbly so it collapses in on itself, like a smashed pumpkin, with enough satisfying crunch in each bite.
Finally, I love the way the soft fudgy filling coats the interior of each Hello Panda biscuit, like a veneer of light brown, ending in a soft chocolate-y dollop.
What I have I learned from this short impromptu taste test? First, that maybe I should funnel the considerable energies of my strong opinions in ways which would better the world, rather than my own stomach. Though, if even one person walks away from this and buys Hello Panda instead of Koala March, then I suppose that would be adding to the overall pleasure experienced in the world, rather than taking away from it. Also, that taste is a subjective, wondrous thing, is it not? It’s what keeps us talking and arguing with such passion and why we do these tastes test in the first place.