What’s the next holiday? Houseplant Appreciation Day? Fuck that. I’m bad at holidays. The holiday that I am the worst at is Valentine’s Day. This is because I am not a twee blogger. I am not the type of person to create a clever, heart-themed meal for my DGNP (dear gender-neutral partner) or frost a perfectly color-coordinated cake in my footprint-sized kitchen. For the last three Valentine’s Days celebrated, I have, in reverse chronological order, sent a Gucci scarf overseas that never arrived, gone to a convention, and dated a guy. Woof, man. This year, I expect to do fairly well. I’m going to a job fair. But it won’t be so terrible, because there is no way I can do as poorly as these Red Velvet M&M’s.
On the plus side, the M&M’s are duly Valentine-themed. However, like my past string of torrid relationships, I keep coming back to them long after I’ve resolved to throw them in the garbage and go to the gym. They’re the borderline personality disorder of candies. Also, they are cheap. Like my therapy-choked heart, they are red, pink, and white. They mimic the cake only in their mutual pervasiveness across the country- why do we need red velvet flavored chicken? Otherwise, they are flaky and strangely thick. They have a chunky, raw texture unlike any other M&M I’ve ever had, chewed only by cleaving them with your teeth. The flavor is part rubbery chocolate, part raw cake flour, pasty and stale. Reader Ruffy found them before I did and detected a slight aroma of fake cream cheese flavoring. I can’t say that I tasted the same- it’s definitely more of a beefed up box mix flavor, no frosting to be found. While my 2011 self appreciates the effort to popularize the beauty of red velvet, the current me is, frankly, over it. This sets the unfortunate, trendy ball rolling for a year’s worth of red velvet Oreos, red velvet granola bars, red velvet diet shakes, red velvet vodka, and red velvet Doritos, joining bacon, salted caramel, sriracha, and more, thus blowing the trend wad for 2014. It’s the common man’s cake now. In the immortal words of RZA, “French-vanilla, butter-pecan, chocolate-deluxe, even caramel sundaes is gettin’ touched, and scooped in my ice cream truck, Wu tears it up.” Damn you, M&M’s. You know not what you do.