Apparently, some girlfriends and wives are harder to impress than others. I’ve always thought that I was definitely one of the more easily satisfied “V. D.”** gift recipients, but I suppose everyone thinks they’re easy to shop for than they actually are. As far as “V. D.” goes, my preferences are usually different than that of other people (OK, except my weakness for jewelry). I love roses because they make awesome potpourri and incense, but having them makes me feel totally guilty ’cause they’re so expensive. (Hell, I’d rather just get some really awesome incense, like from the Holy Rood Guild or something!) Fuzzband suggested that I start making lists for occasions wherein he’s run out of inspirado. Sure, it might not be as fun as a surprise, and a “Gimmie List” makes me feel like a total hog, but the benefits of saving time and money far outweigh my feeling like a selfish ass. And anyway, it was his idea, so that makes it OK. ;)
When quizzed by his co-workers about what he’d planned to buy me for “V. D.”, he replied with an item from my list. ”Vegan caviar,” he said, amid horrified expressions. I guess it’s not as cute and romantic as some stuff, but hey, it’s what I wanted. When you’ve been married for almost 9 years, you stop giving a shit about obscenely priced roses, and although candy is always appreciated, sickeningly sweet heart-shaped boxes just clutter up the house once the candy’s gone. (Jewelry’s okay, though.)
When the big day arrived, I peeled back the packing tape on the beautifully-wrapped UPS box containing my Cavi-Art, and produced 3 little jars of loveliness — one black, one red, and one that resembled ikura (salmon roe). I was surprised to see how good in the closed jar; if the label hadn’t said “Seaweed Caviar” on it, I’d never have known the difference. This stuff looked exactly like the real thing! Of course, looks aren’t everything, so I still had a healthy amount of skepticism.
Some of the reviews I’d seen of this product were all, “Maybe if I chill this first, it wouldn’t suck soooobad,” so I popped it into the fridge, wanting it to be ready for me as soon as I remembered to get new camera batteries. I did, however, sneak a taste of each jar prior to getting batteries… I just couldn’t resist trying it.
The ikura was the first one that I’d tried, and was the focus of one review that had truly worried me. The reviewer mentioned that there was an overpoweringly yucky dill flavor, and the stuff inside had an “oily” mouthfeel. This was not encouraging.
Real ikura is usually a deep orangey-red color. Upon removal from the jar, I saw that the mock ikura was much paler, and the brine that it floated in was very thin and watery, so it needed to be drained before I was able to have a decent sample. It also had these adorable little spotted bits, not unlike salmon roe, but much more obvious than actual ikura. Upon tasting, there was indeed what seemed to be a “dill pickle” note somewhere in there, but it wasn’t too overpowering for me, nor was it much of a turn-off. The balls of fake salmon roe popped nicely in my mouth, pretty similar to the real thing. I’d miss real ikura if I stopped eating it, but this stuff isn’t a bad substitute.
Visually, the red and black “lumpfish” varieties were dead ringers for the real thing. They didn’t have the same strong pickle essence as the ikura, and to me, the red didn’t taste any different than the black. I liked these “traditional” faux caviars a little better; not as salty as actual fish eggs, though they definitely had a strong veggies-in-brine type of flavor. The “eggs” were just the right size, though a bit more firm than the real thing, and yielded less liquid when they popped.
While I do love real caviar, I will definitely buy this product again. There are certain advantages to Cavi-Art, such as:
1. It won’t give you the runs, like regular caviar can. (Is it the high salt content or the cholesterol?)
2. This stuff keeps for weeks, maybe months! Eggs that come from an actual fish are good maybe a week, tops, before they need to be eaten or tossed. Cavi-Art is basically a pickled vegetable which can keep for a long-ass time. The jars that I got were about $8 each, which is a great price for something I don’t feel pressured to hurry up and use before it gets old.
3. The brine in Cavi-Art is clear. Real caviar often needs to be rinsed before using it as a garnish, or else you get nasty-looking fish juice all over your pretty hors d’oeuvre platter. Would my adorable little toast points with herbed creme fraiche look even half as sexy with a bunch of gunk all over them? Hells no!
4. The “lumpfish” style of Cavi-Art is firmer than true fish eggs, so if you stir it into something, the little eggs don’t immediately pop and discolor your food. They’re also easier to manipulate because you’re confident that they’re not going to break at the slightest provocation.
The only real drawback that I can think of is that Cavi-Art could stand to have a little more of a fishy taste; it’s definitely more of a veggie flavor. Even so, I’m still floored at how awesome it turned out to be. I’ll definitely be returning to their USA website for more when the need arises.
**(By the way… can someone tell me when the hell people started deeming it acceptable to refer to Valentine’s Day in its abbreviated form? Are people not aware of what they’re actually saying? Everytime I hear someone call it “V. D.,” it makes me snicker like a 12-year-old who caught her parents saying a bad word. For some of us, I guess every over-commercialized marketing ploy that The Man calls a “holiday” is at least as uncomfortable as an infested crotch — but even still, all of those people cluelessly spouting “V. D.” are pretty entertaining.)
When quizzed by his co-workers about what he’d planned to buy me for “V. D.”, he replied with an item from my list. ”Vegan caviar,” he said, amid horrified expressions. I guess it’s not as cute and romantic as some stuff, but hey, it’s what I wanted. When you’ve been married for almost 9 years, you stop giving a shit about obscenely priced roses, and although candy is always appreciated, sickeningly sweet heart-shaped boxes just clutter up the house once the candy’s gone. (Jewelry’s okay, though.)
When the big day arrived, I peeled back the packing tape on the beautifully-wrapped UPS box containing my Cavi-Art, and produced 3 little jars of loveliness — one black, one red, and one that resembled ikura (salmon roe). I was surprised to see how good in the closed jar; if the label hadn’t said “Seaweed Caviar” on it, I’d never have known the difference. This stuff looked exactly like the real thing! Of course, looks aren’t everything, so I still had a healthy amount of skepticism.
Some of the reviews I’d seen of this product were all, “Maybe if I chill this first, it wouldn’t suck soooobad,” so I popped it into the fridge, wanting it to be ready for me as soon as I remembered to get new camera batteries. I did, however, sneak a taste of each jar prior to getting batteries… I just couldn’t resist trying it.The ikura was the first one that I’d tried, and was the focus of one review that had truly worried me. The reviewer mentioned that there was an overpoweringly yucky dill flavor, and the stuff inside had an “oily” mouthfeel. This was not encouraging.
Real ikura is usually a deep orangey-red color. Upon removal from the jar, I saw that the mock ikura was much paler, and the brine that it floated in was very thin and watery, so it needed to be drained before I was able to have a decent sample. It also had these adorable little spotted bits, not unlike salmon roe, but much more obvious than actual ikura. Upon tasting, there was indeed what seemed to be a “dill pickle” note somewhere in there, but it wasn’t too overpowering for me, nor was it much of a turn-off. The balls of fake salmon roe popped nicely in my mouth, pretty similar to the real thing. I’d miss real ikura if I stopped eating it, but this stuff isn’t a bad substitute.
Visually, the red and black “lumpfish” varieties were dead ringers for the real thing. They didn’t have the same strong pickle essence as the ikura, and to me, the red didn’t taste any different than the black. I liked these “traditional” faux caviars a little better; not as salty as actual fish eggs, though they definitely had a strong veggies-in-brine type of flavor. The “eggs” were just the right size, though a bit more firm than the real thing, and yielded less liquid when they popped.While I do love real caviar, I will definitely buy this product again. There are certain advantages to Cavi-Art, such as:
1. It won’t give you the runs, like regular caviar can. (Is it the high salt content or the cholesterol?)
2. This stuff keeps for weeks, maybe months! Eggs that come from an actual fish are good maybe a week, tops, before they need to be eaten or tossed. Cavi-Art is basically a pickled vegetable which can keep for a long-ass time. The jars that I got were about $8 each, which is a great price for something I don’t feel pressured to hurry up and use before it gets old.
3. The brine in Cavi-Art is clear. Real caviar often needs to be rinsed before using it as a garnish, or else you get nasty-looking fish juice all over your pretty hors d’oeuvre platter. Would my adorable little toast points with herbed creme fraiche look even half as sexy with a bunch of gunk all over them? Hells no!
4. The “lumpfish” style of Cavi-Art is firmer than true fish eggs, so if you stir it into something, the little eggs don’t immediately pop and discolor your food. They’re also easier to manipulate because you’re confident that they’re not going to break at the slightest provocation.
The only real drawback that I can think of is that Cavi-Art could stand to have a little more of a fishy taste; it’s definitely more of a veggie flavor. Even so, I’m still floored at how awesome it turned out to be. I’ll definitely be returning to their USA website for more when the need arises.
**(By the way… can someone tell me when the hell people started deeming it acceptable to refer to Valentine’s Day in its abbreviated form? Are people not aware of what they’re actually saying? Everytime I hear someone call it “V. D.,” it makes me snicker like a 12-year-old who caught her parents saying a bad word. For some of us, I guess every over-commercialized marketing ploy that The Man calls a “holiday” is at least as uncomfortable as an infested crotch — but even still, all of those people cluelessly spouting “V. D.” are pretty entertaining.)
