While we were in NYC I spent two lovely weeks working at a magazine downtown. It was a great return to my old life, and I had a fantastic time with the staff there. The second week, my editor came in on Monday or Tuesday looking very pleased with himself, and revealed that he had acquired a limited edition Reese’s Peanut Butter and Banana Creme Cup, released in honor of the 30th anniversary of Elvis’s death. He’d decided to wait until Thursday, the actual anniversary, to hold a ceremonial tasting.
Which we did.
(Note: I loathe banana flavored things, and pretty much hate real bananas.)
We very cautiously cut one of the cups into quadrants. (David had tried to get more so everyone could “enjoy” their own cup, but the bodega ran out. Limited edition, see.) The “banana cream” (shudder) was clearly visible and very solid. At least there wasn’t an ooze factor.
It smelled strongly of banana, fairly realistically, but the flavor wasn’t as pungent. I choked it down very bravely, and even managed to wait about a minute before grabbing for the seltzer I had prudently set nearby. Maybe a non-banana-hater could weigh in more fairly, but this got a solid “Not as horrific as I expected, which isn’t saying much,” from me.
Luckily we had taken a field trip to ‘Wichcraft for lunch (oh my god, so good), and I had saved a diminutive creamwich (chocolate & chocolate; the best were the peanut butter ones) for just this situation. Mmmm. Much better.
Oh, and by the way: We didn’t win an Elvis Tribute Car, whatever that means.