When I was younger I used to get sent away to summer camps. One of my earliest memories of such camps involves a game of football in which someone failed to pass me the ball, prompting me to yell something like “Why the hell didn’t you pass?”. One of the camp leaders, or apparatchniks, or whatever they’re called, pulled me aside. “Why do you think I am talking to you?” he asked (or rather growled). I had absolutely no idea. I was then informed that it was because I had used the word ‘hell’, a word which, up until that point (and at every point subsequently) I had regarded as a word of breathtaking innocuousness. I absent-mindedly called out the same word about ten seconds after having been spoken to, and the bloke whom I’d initially angered hauled me quite literally over his shoulder, and plonked me down on a chair outside of the Head Fuhrer’s office. When I informed the Fuhrer of the reason for my being sent to him, he looked frankly bewildered. I have never forgotten that overzealous apparatchnik, and I hope that he ends up in the place designated by the word he so vehemently dislikes.
Talking of death, another stand-out incident of my summer camp days involves being informed that, under no circumstances whatsoever, were we to bring in any food product containing even the tiniest hint of sesame. The reason was that there was a boy at the camp who would keel over if he was within about a 100 metre radius of anything remotely involving sesame. Whenever he used to open a door someone would call out ‘Open Sesame!’. Or maybe they wouldn’t. I can’t remember. But it would have been mildly amusing if they had.
Which brings me onto sesame bars. I like a good sesame bar. (Or, rather, I think sesame bars are good. Saying ‘I like a good sesame bar’ is basically a tautology, isn’t it? Could someone sensibly acknowledge something to be good at the same time as professing not to like it? I’m sure there’s a PhD thesis in that; the fact that I am currently writing for Average Food Blog is probably a good indication that it won’t be written by me.) Anyhoo. Sesame bars are nice. I like Sesame Snaps especially, for two reasons. (1) They don’t have any extraneous seed material in them. No pumpkin seeds, or sunflower seeds, or anything like that. As a general rule I don’t like seeds, and I’m grateful to the good people behind Sesame Snaps for not making the bars too ‘seedy’ (incidentally, this is probably the only time I will ever profess my dislike for a ‘seedy bar’). (2) They come in little packs of three, so I can – theoretically – eat one bar now, one bar after BBC News At Ten (OK, OK, Man Vs Food), and one tomorrow. In reality, of course, I eat them all at once, but it’s nice to have the option, y’know?
The best thing about eating sesame bars, however, brings us back to Sesame Boy at summer camp, and it is this: they are capable of killing people! Sesame bars are, quite literally, Bars Of Death. Thus, eating them feels to me not dissimilar to guzzling hemlock, or chowing down on whatever it was that Litvinenko bloke ate. And when I eat a sesame bar and remain alive, I feel INVINCIBLE.
There is definitely a 10/10 somewhere in this food review (because that is what this is). I’m unsure as to whether to award it to the sesame bar, by dint of being a lethal yet delicious snack, or to myself, on the grounds of my immunity to the sesame’s kryptonite. Sod it: 10/10s all round!