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I’m very fond of crystallized ginger, and accordingly I am substantially less fond of the Trader Joe’s Dark Chocolate Covered Ginger, whose ginger to “rich dark chocolate” ratio is weighted in chocolate’s favor to the point that the ginger is nigh imperceptible.

The ingredients promise Australian crystalized ginger, and I do appreciate that Trader Joe’s, the J. Peterman of foodstuffs, has resisted the urge to embroider the tale with “harvested by koalas” or a story about backpacking across the outback while noshing on these or anything of that nature. But what’s given us instead of tasty, delicious ginger is waxy and overly sweet dark chocolate that is unappealing and which hosts a poverty of taste that is far from the promised richness.

The label makes no mention of fair trade or ethically sourced chocolate, which is honest, at least, and not the sort of “3% of our cacao beans are ethically sourced” shenanigans that some companies engage in. The smallish bag holds eight servings of what they claim is a 1/4 cup each, but these are apparently servings where the bits of chocolate repel each other, thereby taking up twice as much space in a measuring cup than normal.

All in all, a disappointing snack best suited to eating 3 am in an international airport, killing a few hours at a deserted gate while waiting for a lengthy flight, already sunk in ennui and listening to the echoes of the janitor’s footsteps as they mop a nearby lobby.

You can read this story at http://thegreenmanreview.com/food-and-drink/alas-poor-ginger-wherefore-art-thou-trader-joes-dark-chocolate-covered-ginger/

The works read but yet to be reviewed are piling up, so here’s a new roundup to clear away part of the deluge.

The Mere Wife by Maria Dahvana Headley is a retelling of Beowulf from the monster’s point of view, set in a possibly not-so-future world where the rich live in protected enclaves. Stark and beautifully told, the story raises the question of who the actual monsters are and whether they haven’t been residing in us all along. (Farrar, Straus and Giroux; release date 17 July 2018)

A Treacherous Curse by Deanna Raybourn is the second in what feels very much like a series, following A Perilous Undertaking. It reads a lot like Elizabeth Peters’ Amelia Peabody series but with a much more sexually outspoken protagonist named Veronica Speedwell and a dose of fantasy. I initially thought Speedwell’s love interest was Bram Stoker, which actually turned out not to be the case. A fun, light read. (Berkeley Original, 2018)

The Year of the Knife by G.D. Penman is entertaining urban fantasy in the police procedural tradition, and will remind the reader of a Ben Aaronovitch novel with a slightly smaller cast. Meerkat has been putting out some very solid stuff, and this is another example of that. (Meerkat Press, 2017)

Two graphic novels, very different from each other, round out the list. The first is Freedom Hospital: A Syrian Story by Hamid Sulaiman, winner of the English PEN Award. This book is graphic, a brutal and heart-wrenching introduction to conditions in Syria in 2012. The art is simple, sometimes with the quality of a slogan stenciled on a wall: I could image image after image from the book used in that way. Recommended but not light reading. (Interlink Publishing Inc., 2018 American Edition)

Henchgirl, by Kristen Gudsnuk, comes from Dark Horse Books and is a fun exploration of the economics of supervillainy, particularly for the minions and henchfolk just trying to make an honest living. Clear and charming drawing with a nice sense of whimsy. (Dark Horse Books, 2017)

You can read this at http://thegreenmanreview.com/books/recent-reading-wolves-wives-knives-curses-a-hospital-and-a-henchgirl/

I do a good bit of writing by hand, usually in a large hardbound sketchbook, although I sometimes like the feel of a nice narrow yellow-lined pad or the sprawl of an enormous expanse of drawing paper. And to write on these, while sometimes I’ll wander over into glitter gel pens or fine-point felt tips, my favorite is the Pilot Varsity disposable fountain pen.

Depending on where you’re getting it, the price varies from $3-10, with the high range of that usually appearing in fancy stores aimed at writers, which will strategically place a mug of them near that stack of leatherbound, gilt-edged journals locking with tiny moon and star clasps whose splendor will prove so intimidating to live up to that you will never actually use it. Overall, it will prove much cheaper to buy yours at an art supply store, which is where I get mine, since I go through at least a few each month.

I like writing with this pen because it never feels as though the nib and paper are dragging at each other. The nib could best be described as medium, somewhere well between broad point and narrow. The pen comes in a variety of shades and shows clearly what color it is at both the top and the bottom. For me, the availability of the color depends on how recently the store’s restocked, but the web tells me it comes in black, navy blue, red, green, pink, purple, and turquoise blue.

My only quibble with the pen is a small one that may not apply to many people’s experience. I am tough on pens. They end up jammed in purses, pockets, lost in coat linings, moved from one book bag to another. And so if your treatment of your possessions is overall gentler, which it probably is, you may not experience the same results I do, which is that about one in twenty pens ends up not exploding so much as getting a bit drippy to the point of ink-stained fingers.

You can read this review at http://thegreenmanreview.com/what-nots/making-words-flow-with-pilot-varsity-fountain-pens/

Here in America we like our add-ins, ice cream and candy full of other candy, nuts, random sweets, and sometimes savories. Chuao (pronounced Chew-WOW) has a shelf-load of such, chocolate bars with all the goodies, created by Venezuelan chef Michael Antonorsi.

Most of the bars I tried were terrific but some are more successful than others. Idiosyncrasies of taste may make a difference; when I tweeted about the one I really disliked, someone mentioned that was their favorite, and bemoaned not being able to find it. And it’s not entirely fair to stack dark chocolate up against milk, particularly given that my sweet tooth resembles that of a six-year-old’s. Still, I present them in order of how much I liked them, from most to least.

First up, the “Baconluxious”. Described as “delicate maple sweetness, a sprinkle of bonfire smoked sea salt and crispy, uncured bacon in milk chocolate.” This had a nice aroma and when tasted, an immediate smoothness to its mouth feel, followed by a wash of saltiness and not-unpleasant grittiness before the final bacon note, leaving just a few salt crystals to be crunched between the tooth and savored. This was delicious to the point where I thought I would and then did readily pick one of these up again. And probably will again and again.

For the ingredient conscious, this 2.8 oz bar clocks in at 420 calories per bar (the label does the usual this is really 2 servings thing). It is 41% milk chocolate; 67% Fair Trade Certified, which means that up to 33% of it may come from places using child labor or other unfair trade practices. (Looking at these percentages was an interesting exercise; no bar was the same and it’s something I’m going to watch for, going forward.) No mention of non-GMO ingredients.

This was followed by the “Firecracker”. Described as “sea salt, a dash of chipotle and popping candy crackle in dark chocolate,” this had a lovely spicy saltiness that the sharp crackle accentuated, and a nice after crunch, all against a palatable dark chocolate background.

This bar is 400 calories total. It is 60% dark chocolate; marked as ethically sourced cocoa but not Fair Trade Certified, which means that up to 100% of it may come from places using child labor. However, it is non-GMO ingredients.

Both of these were good and so was the “Oh my S’mores”. Described as “fluffy marshmallows and crushed honey graham crackers reunite in milk chocolate.” This held delightful toffee bits, somewhat sandy graham cracker crumbs, and a valiant but unsuccessful attempt to conquer the marshmallow issue by scattering mini marshmallows on the bottom of the bar, resulting in a layer of projecting marshmallows and air.
This bar is 380 calories in total. It is 49% Fair Trade Certified and the marshmallows are specifically non-GMO, while other ingredients are unspecified.

Fourth in line was the “Honeycomb”. Described as “luscious organic honey caramelized into crisp bits and enrobed in dark chocolate.” This had a surprisingly lovely honey note, very alive, that worked well with the dark chocolate.

This bar is 380 calories in total, and 60% dark chocolate. Ingredients specify that the honey contained in the bar is actual caramelized honey and that bee and honey dipper are not included, no mention is made of non-GMO ingredients. It is 95% fair trade certified.

We finish with “Pop Corn Pop”, which I did not like. The label describes it as “inspired by that familiar flavor you love, with a surprising POP in milk chocolate.” This bar had a strong nutty flavor and not much to recommend it; the additions are bits of corn chip, which I found an unpleasant combo, and popping candy, all in milk chocolate.
This bar is 420 calories in total. It is not Fair Trade certified and no mention is made of non GMO ingredients.

The variances of text notes like Fair Trade proportions and non GMO ingredients from bar to bar reflects the varied demands of candy-making but does mean that consumers concerned about such things should be careful about reading the label. There are a number of inconsistencies across the labeling that make the overall presentation feel a bit incoherent here and there, but note I am a writer and tend to have strong opinions about these things that do not matter to most chocolate consumers.

You can read this review at http://thegreenmanreview.com/food-and-drink/chuao-chocolatier-all-the-add-ins/

This is my first review for The Green Man Review, but I cannot help but feel I have somehow come full circle from the moment in a 2005 World Fantasy Convention bar when someone kept telling me how much they enjoyed my Green Man Review reviews and I kept mentioning they had the wrong Cat. Now all I can do is assume they traveled in time somehow. And so. Let’s look at a nifty book in the here and now, in what is hopefully the first of many reviews.

The Reader: War For The Oaks is a hardbound book presenting a photography project by Tim Cooper. It’s a slim little 8.5″³x 11″³ volume, clocking in at 96 pages. The pleasant interior design presents the photos nicely, along with some pretty arboreal details. The cover, whose design is unobjectionable but unremarkable, features a photo that lets the reader know exactly what the book is about: photos of people reading War For the Oaks in various Minneapolis locations.

There are a few books I have re-read so many times that they are an integral part of fantasy to me, and Emma Bull’s first novel, War for the Oaks is one of them, featuring Eddi McCandrey and her half-human, half-elvish band, the Fey. It was originally published in 1987; the paperback copy I’ve been carrying around for decades is battered and coverless now, but it was a pleasure to have the task of going back and reading it yet again in order to do this review.

I’m not alone in loving this story, and the book’s part in defining and shaping urban fantasy cannot be overestimated. Reading in many ways like a crisper, less Romantic version of Charles de Lint, Bull demonstrates in this book that despite being one of the quieter writers, she will become a major talent. Many nifty but commercially non-viable projects that we would miss if reliant only on traditional publishing have come out in recent years, often supported through crowdfunding; this one was a Kickstarter project. It’s delightful to see a project dedicated to the novel in this way, celebrating how much the book has meant to many readers.

Which is perhaps my major caveat. This book will enchant, down to their very toes and beyond, those who love Bull’s novel and know the city as well. Cooper’s photos show locations from the book in an order corresponding to the novel’s chronology, each time with people reading War for the Oaks somewhere in the picture. For someone who loves the book in part because of its setting, the sole disappointment may be that the photo are low enough resolution that sometimes it is difficult to make everything out.

Familiar with the book but not so much with the city? Mileage will vary here, depending both on one’s degree of affection for the book as well as how firmly the reader is attached to their vision of things. Someone with a mental vision that is particularly strong, in fact, might find it jarring to have it contradicted by these pictures.

Familiar only with the city? Here again mileage will vary radically depending on factors like how interested one is in examples of projects like this or if one is a book collector specializing in fantasy and science fiction (in which case, you’ve probably had the novel on your list but just never got around to it). Lovely extra details scatter themselves here and there throughout the book, as well as photos featuring other authors like Elizabeth Bear, Stephen Brust, PamelaDean, Marissa Lingen, Scott Lynch, and Patricia C. Wrede. Essays by Dean, Sigrid Ellis, Sarah Olsen and Katherine St. Asaph appear at the back, along with a poem by Alec Austin.

Familiar only with the city? Here again mileage will vary radically depending on factors like how interested one is in examples of projects like this or if one is a book collector specializing in fantasy and science fiction (in which case, you’ve probably had the novel on your list but just never got around to it). Lovely extra details scatter themselves here and there throughout the book, as well as photos featuring other authors like Elizabeth Bear, Stephen Brust, PamelaDean, Marissa Lingen, Scott Lynch, and Patricia C. Wrede. Essays by Dean, Sigrid Ellis, Sarah Olsen and Katherine St. Asaph appear at the back, along with a poem by Alec Austin.

I’ve stuck this on one of my shelves of favorite F&SF next to that battered paperback copy of War for the Oaks, because it’s definitely a keeper. Next time I’m at a con with the author, I may even take it along, because having it signed by the person whose book inspired so much passion would make it even niftier.

(Tired Tapir Press, 2014)

You can read this review at http://thegreenmanreview.com/books/recent-reading-eddi-and-the-feys-revival-tour/

In the last year or so, I found a genre that hadn’t previously been on my radar, but which I really enjoy: furry fiction. Kyell Gold had put up his novel Black Angel on the SFWA member forums, where members post their fiction so other members have access to it when reading for awards, and I enjoyed it tremendously. The novel, which is part of a trilogy about three friends, each haunted in their own way, showed me the emotional depth furry fiction is capable of and got me hooked. Accordingly, when I started reviewing for Green Man Review, I put out a Twitter call and have been working my way through the offerings from several presses.

Notable among the piles are the multiplicity by T. Kingfisher, aka Ursula Vernon, and two appear in this armload. Clockwork Boys, Clocktaur War Book One (Argyll Productions, 2017) is the promising start to a fantasy trilogy featuring a lovely understated romance between a female forger and a paladin, while Summer in Orcus (Sofawolf Press, cover and interior art by Lauren Henderson) is aimed at younger readers and will undoubtedly become one of those magical books many kids will return to again and again, until Vernon is worshipped by generations and prepared to conquer the world. Honestly, I will read anything Kingfisher/Vernon writes, and highly recommend following her on Twitter, where she is @UrsulaV.

Huntress by Renee Carter Hall (Furplanet), which originally appeared in 2015, and whose title novella was nominated in the 2014 Ursa Major Awards and Cóyotl Awards, is a collection of novella plus several shorter stories. I’d love more in this fascinating and thought-provoking world, particularly following the novella’s heroine, the young lioness Leya, and the sisterhood of the huntresses, the karanja.

Always Gray in Winter by Mark J. Engels (Thurston Howell Publications, October, 2017) demonstrates one of the difficulties with furry fiction, which is the reader’s uncertainty where to site the fact of furry characters, primarily whether to take them as a given or have some underlying science to it, such as bio-modified creatures. Here Pawly is a were-cat, but the unfamiliar reader is forced to spend so much time figuring out whether this is something people take for normal or not that the story sometimes gets confusing, and with multiple POV shifts, the reader keeps having to re-orient themself. It’s tight, sparse military SF that readers familiar with the conventions of the genre will find compelling, entertaining, and quickly paced; newer readers may find themselves floundering a bit.

The Furry Future, edited by Fred Patten (Furplanet, 2015) is a solid and entertaining anthology that showcases how widely ranging the stories that use the rationale behind the existence of anthropomorphic beings as part of the narrative can be. Authors in the collection include Michael H. Payne, Watts Martin, J. F. R. Coates, Nathanael Gass, Samuel C. Conway, Bryan Feir, Yannarra Cheena, MikasiWolf, Tony Greyfox, Alice “Huskyteer” Dryden, NightEyes DaySpring, Ocean Tigrox, Mary E. Lowd, Dwale, M. C. A. Hogarth, T. S. McNally, Ronald W. Klemp, Fred Patten, and David Hopkins with illustrations by Roz Gibson and cover art by Teagan Gavet. This book is one that scholars writing about furry fiction will want to be including on their reading lists for reasons including its focus, its authors, the snapshot of the current furry fiction scene that it provides, and the variety of approaches to anthropomorphic body modification.

Along with the furry fiction, I wanted to point to an indie humorous horror collection that is one of the most specifically themed I have yet encountered, Ill Met by Moonlight by Gretchen Rix (Rix Cafe Texican, 2016), which features evil macadamia nut trees, including “Macadamias on the Move,” “Ill Met by Moonlight,” and “The Santa Tree” in a lovely sample of how idiosyncratic a sub-sub-niche can get. The production values of this slim little book show what a nice job an indie can do with a book and include a black and white illustration for each story.

You can read this review at http://thegreenmanreview.com/books/armload-of-fur-and-leaves/

I’ve never reviewed a chocolate bar before and I will, furthermore, confess a shameful love for plain Hershey’s bars that dates back to the time my grandmother was first left with me unattended and violated my mother’s up-to-that-point successful “no candy” policy.

However, the Stonewall Kitchens Dark Chocolate Chili Cinnamon and Nibs bar is a very far thing from that Hershey’s bar. It is dark as a stormy night, but carries a surprising amount of heat (of the various chili-augmented chocolate bars I’ve tried, it is the most fiery.) The darkness is a mellow one, developing a deliciously unctuous mouth feel. This is a nibbling bar, to be savored, bit by bit, each time edging up to almost too spicy and then backing away at the last moment.

My only nitpick with the chocolate bar overall would be that the cocoa nibs add texture, but I’m not sure I found them necessary. They seemed more like dry little distractions from the chocolate experience.

The ingredient list is substantially shorter and freer of long chemical names than that Hershey bar: dark chocolate, cocoa nibs, chipotle chili pepper powder, cinnamon powder, and cinnamon bark oil adding up to 440 calories for the three-ounce bar. Definitely a bar that I’d buy again if the opportunity presented itself, and it makes me curious to try their other products.

You can read this review at http://thegreenmanreview.com/food-and-drink/stonewall-kitchen-dark-chocolate-chili-cinnamon-and-nibs-bar/