Deep Fried Mars Bar
There comes a point in every foodaholics life that they finally meet their match. Their Arch Nemesis. Gone are the days of "I can eat ANYTHING!". I drag my sad little feet away in defeat.
Who is this mighty foe you ask? Well I will tell you. It is an abomination. A mutant freak "treat" that only men in skirts could conjure.
It is.... the Deep Fried Mars Bar.
I've been an attendant at the Florida Highland Games for about 7 years running now. And every time, I see that stand, "Meat Pies and Deep Fried Mars Bars", beckoning me. During our last visit, I finally mustered the courage to try one.
A deep fried mars bar is exactly that. One mars bar, battered, and deep fried. How is that possible?? Its like some strange Wonka paradox. Like Fried Ice Cream.. but Fried Ice Cream is from Heaven.
Unfortunately, I knew I was going to lose this battle before my teeth even sunk through my first bite. And that bite was unfortunately, the bite that made me abandon any urge for additional bites. And that single bite is the one pictured above. My bite of defeat.
First it was a brief break through an extremely thin crisp of outer batter, but that was where my horror began. For just below the crisp is pretty much runny batter, mush mingled with melted chocolate (magma hot chocolate mind you)... then nougat so soft you are almost surprised when your teeth suddenly touch eachother. But as you try to aid your mouth in its escape, evil strings of glue-like caramel latch on and don't let go. Once free, the mouthfeel I could only imagine is similar to that a dog experiences when given too much peanut butter.
It was all very traumatizing.
Fortunately, my husband is a Brit, and his arteries have grown immune to this sort of onslaught. Anything battered and fried becomes fair game and prized eating.
But for this girl... one bite of one deep fried mars bar is enough to know I've found the highest of edible adversaries.