For Toastie Project readers who are not of the Australasian-persuasion, Minties have three definitive characteristics:
i) a mild mint flavour
ii) an extremely chewy consistency, well-known for its filling-removal properties
iii) being potentially lethal in a lolly scramble. These are the sweets you really have to avoid getting hit by, they’re hard little suckers and can definitely take an eye out if you aren’t nimble enough.
Another part of the Minties legend were the adverts that went on for decades, showing misfalls, mishaps and bloopers, with the gist being: when everything has turned to crap, eat Minties. Or, as Pascalls puts it: “Embarrassed? Mortified? Shame-faced? Stop Blushing and do the only thing you can in such sticky situations! It’s moments like these you need Minites.™”
I’ve never really understood why it would be considered a good idea to construct a whole ad campaign around humiliation and/or misfortune however. Surely it actually suggests that Minties are the last resort of the luckless? The customary confectionery for calamity? If you only eat Minties when something bad has happened, well, that just makes me want to avoid them as much as possible. Much like in a lolly scramble. Whoa. Is a lolly scramble an apt metaphor for life, I wonder?
But perhaps I’m overthinking this. Perhaps I should stop philosophising and start toasting.
Yes. That’s a much better plan.
So to begin with, here are 15 naked Minties for your viewing pleasure.
From this angle they kind of look like teeth. It’s like the toastie is smiling back at me, in a wide, bready grin.
A couple of minutes of toasting later though that smile is all gone, and it’s been replaced with some intriguingly transparent leakage.
It also has this kind of weird smell. It’s oddly familiar.
After another minute the toasting was done, and I started to cut into it. As soon as I removed it from the heat the Mintie-goo solidified very quickly and became hard and plasticky, and really tricky to remove from the knife.
As I opened it up to see what it looked like inside, I realised what it reminded me of.
I have made a warm toothpaste sandwich.
Oh dear lord. What have I done?
A cross-section of FEAR. I know this is not going to end well, but I have to try some. The first rule of The Toastie Project is that all experiments must be sampled in order to contribute to the scientific body of knowledge in the field of toastie research. That is why toastie-making is only for the brave of heart, the steady of hand, and the iron of stomach. It is a dangerous calling, but a noble one and true.
BLEEERGHGH BUT THIS TASTES LIKE WARM TOOTHPASTE ON TOAST.
And yet, I think to myself while chucking the toastie in the rubbish and searching around the staffroom for something to take the minty taste away, there is a certain inevitability about this moment. I have just reached the lowest point in my toastie experiments, I have never tasted anything quite so disgusting and am consequently having a terrible lunchtime…and I find myself eating Minties.
Apparently Pascalls were right all along. THE PROPHECY HAS BEEN FULFILLED.
OFFICIAL TOASTIE PROJECT RATING
Toastability – 3.5/5, for something that tasted so bad it sure wasn’t a hassle to toast, though it wasn’t fun getting bits of hardened Minties off everything afterwards.
Taste – 0/5, I think it’s pretty evident from my comments above that this is not an experiment I would care to repeat. In fact it’s not even an experiment I care to remember, so I would appreciate if we can never speak of this again, okay?