Wordless Wednesday: Taco the Town

The Vegan Nom – Breakfast Tacos
Taco PalenqueImpossible Taco
Luna’s Tacos – Sweet Potato Hash, Plantains, Veggie Fajitas Tacos
La Yunta – Veggie Taco

Carnaless – Beef Fajita Taco

Carnaless – Bacon con Guacamole, Chorizo con Papas

Newman’s Old Cookies

Twenty years is an incredibly long time when it comes to the lifespan of most products, and even the brands themselves. Combing through the archives to revisit the blog’s first years of life, it’s striking just how few of my earliest review features are still on the market. Rest in peace, my beloved Sweet & Sara marshmallows. May your memory be a blessing, Sunergia soy feta. Until we meet again, Luna tea cakes. I’ll see you in hell, Righteously Raw bars. I could go on, but there was one remarkable finding that snapped me out of that sad spiral: the very first thing I ever reviewed is still on store shelves, nationwide, to this day.

Newman-O’s, one of the earliest “healthy” Oreo doppelgangers that told us it was okay to eat cookies as long as they were organic, seems largely unchanged after two decades. The biggest difference is the label, bold and colorful, redesigned to capture what little attention spans shoppers have left. I thought this was the perfect opportunity to reopen my investigation to see if they still hold up to scrutiny.

Newman’s Own Organics launched the iconic Newman-O’s in 1993, the first line to expand the company’s offerings beyond their initial dressings and sauces. In addition to the Original sandwich crèmes up for re-examination today, additional flavors include Chocolate Crème, Mint, Peanut Butter, Strawberry, and Vanilla. Sadly, Ginger-O’s quietly disappeared from store shelves post pandemic, never to return. Of course, this was my favorite one. Yet again, my approval seems to be the ultimate kiss of death.

Oreo is said to be the world’s best-selling cookie, though Newman-O’s are hardly concerned about competing or dominating in any arena. 100% of the profits go to charity, which should make it a bit easier to swallow the $6.99 – 9.99 price tag, which is easily two or three times more than “America’s Favorite” cookie. Ostensibly, you’re paying for quality; organic flour and sugar, and no trans fats, high‑fructose corn syrup, or partially hydrogenated oils. Does it all add up when it comes to flavor, though?

Yes and no.

Yes, this is a solid sandwich cookie. Crisp chocolate wafers enclose a creamy white filling, balancing out the subtly bitter edge of the cocoa with a blast of vanilla frosting sweetness. They dissolve easily when dunked in non-dairy milk, melting away in the mouth without leaving a greasy residue. The two halves cleave away cleanly, satisfying for anyone that prefers to deconstruct their dessert to eat the components separately. Uncomplicated, they’re easy to love at any age.

No, it’s not vastly different from the experience of eating an Oreo. Maybe it’s the placebo effect that lends them the impression of having a cleaner finish and flavor, or that you can feel better about making a “smarter” choice. Eaten side by side, without the respective logos embossed on top, it might be difficult to tell them apart. That, however, is honestly a win for Newman. To offer the same addictive qualities as such a well-loved cookie, without sacrificing quality ingredients is a certain kind a coup.

I’m amazed, impressed, and relieved that Newman-O’s remains exactly as I remember it from my first foray into reviewing food. Before sponsorship, work for trade, influencers, and all the other noise muddying up the field, this is one I chose to buy with my own money, and still do.

Emerald Anniversary: 20 Years of BitterSweet

Twenty years. Two decades. I’ve already said it again and again, out loud and in my own head, and the numbers still don’t make sense. True, I was never any good at math, but I just don’t understand. How could it possibly be twenty years since BitterSweet began? I’ve been blogging longer than I haven’t, more than half of my life, a constant thread tethering me back to the world when I felt I could just as easily disappear. Looking back, I’m not entirely sure if it’s the blog that shaped my life, or my life that developed around the blog. They’re simply too deeply enmeshed, impossibly intertwined, to pick apart.

How it all started; the earliest form of BitterSweet

I never went into this with any bigger picture in mind. The only goal was to share the things I loved, and hopefully use that as a conduit to connect with more people of like minds. While the golden era of blogging is long past, as evidenced by the rarity of finding a dinosaur of a twenty year-old blog, I’d say I’ve been wildly successful in that regard. When publishers shot down my pitches, when brands turned me down for TikTokers who sing and dance, I still had this space that encouraged my creativity, supported my madness, and kept me going when the world at large told me to stop.

I’ve spent the better part of the past six months agonizing over how to commemorate such a huge milestone. The big two-oh only rolls around once, and I can’t begin to imagine if blogs will even exist another twenty years from now. Watching the date drawing ever closer, there was no idea grand enough, nor reasonably attainable, to do my beloved BitterSweet proper justice. Maybe it was time to make a mini cookbook, the Best of BitterSweet, available in print, or at least a zine? Or just an e-book? Barring that, perhaps a twenty-layer cake?

Emeralds Aren’t Forever, But Potentially Delicious

Finally, in the eleventh hour, it came to me: I was taking this entirely too seriously. The reason that I’ve been able to sustain this living archive, feeding it thrice weekly, every week, is that I just do whatever I want. I don’t do SEO properly, I don’t monetize it enough, I don’t use social media to its full potential, but you know what? That’s not what feeds my soul. I just need this to be my creative outlet, full of weird, wild, sometimes off-putting things. To that end, I strongly considered making an Emerald Salad Ring to honor the traditional 20-year anniversary gemstone, but ultimately, something sweet (and less repugnant) felt more fitting.

Edible Gems

Pandan candy emeralds, a stylized take on Japanese kohakutou, are essential shards of sweetened agar that are aged until sugar crystallizes on the outside. The interior remains soft like jelly for a crave-worthy textural contrast. Using pandan flavoring means the green color is already built in, bringing the ingredients list to a grand total of three, water and edible glitter not included. Brilliantly simple, recklessly creative, unconventionally delightful; Sounds like BitterSweet, alright.

I’m not one for grand gestures so I leave you with this, at least until the next regularly scheduled post. I’m sure as hell not stopping here. Twenty years is just another chapter in the larger story. There’s still a lot left to this story, even if no one knows how it will end, including the author.

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Marvelous Mekelesha

Spice blends make the world go ’round. Individual spices are powerful, but who cooks with just one at a time? It’s rare to find a solo seasoning that really stands up to scrutiny, or at least, can’t be improved by a bit of teamwork from complimentary flavors. Being able to quickly reach for a harmoniously blended combination that’s already carefully calibrated and ready to go is the ultimate cooking hack. When I can add a new blend to my spice rack, it opens up a whole new world of possibilities. That’s exactly what happened when I first tried mekelesha from Red Fox Spices.

What is Mekelesha?

Traditionally employed as a finishing spice in Ethiopian wots, the warming, sweet character of the mixture seems incongruous to the richly savory stews at first, yet somehow manages to meld seamlessly into the finished dish. Carried by nutmeg, cinnamon, and cardamom, then sharply contrasted by cloves, cumin, and pepper, it’s a potent, distinctive taste that’s hard to explain. Like any spice blend, the exact components and ratios are up for debate. What’s nonnegotiable, if you ask me, is that long pepper makes the cut. Though a rarity in the US, that’s exactly what Red Fox Spices invites to the party, alongside more commonplace black peppercorns, imparting an irreplaceable slow-building, earthy heat.

How is Mekelesha Used?

By all means, use mekelesha as intended to make more robust entrees, compelling side dishes, and unforgettable meals. Then, when you’re ready to experiment, consider the sweeter possibilities that I found utterly irresistible. Spice cookies use so many of these basic components already; why not cut to the chase by creating a simple formula that dazzles with wildly complex flavor? That’s why a good spice blend is essential.

The Sweeter Side of Mekelesha

Mekelesha Molasses Cookies leverage the inherently rich, hot, and simultaneously smooth spice blend to brighten the classic New England treat. Nutty whole wheat flour and molasses lend a dark, deep foundation to amplify the contrasting tastes. Like gingerbread with a brighter bite, soft and chewy, with a crisp coarse sugar crust, the complete package is utterly irresistible. The fact that they come together with only a handful of pantry staples makes them all the more tempting; once you have mekelesha at your disposal, nothing will stand in the way of your next batch.

Make More with Mekelesha

Anywhere you might reach for apple pie spice, pumpkin pie spice, chai spice, five spice powder, or even garam masala, give mekelesha a try instead. With a single sprinkle, it bridges cuisines and traditions, slipping effortlessly from slow-simmered stews to baked goods that feel both familiar and extraordinary. When a dish needs something more but you can’t quite name it, this indispensable Ethiopian blend just might be the answer.

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