I examine the Mallomar, a puff of marshmallow on a crumbly biscuit base, covered with a thinly-shattering chocolate coating. The stuff, apparently, of limited distribution and Tri-State Area-n dreams. And according to some, even, "the greatest cookie in the history of the world".
I take a bite and realize that, having grown up in a country where the questionably named creation called a Negerkuss reigns supreme over birthday parties and lunchbox choices, for me the Mallomar comes up screechingly short.
A Negerkuss is a towering mass of creamy marshmallow that sinks and melts under the pressure of your tongue, with a chocolate coating that melts upon contact, while the base is a snappily-sweet waffle round. Compared to that feat of German engineering, the Mallomar's marshmallow filling is too elastic, too gummy, while the base tastes suprisingly like nothing at all. The "pure" (as bellowed out from the box) chocolate coating feels like plasticine and after eating just one of these things, I feel slightly sick.
But what do I know? I put out the rest of the Mallomars on a table at the office and make a few snackers very happy indeed. I can cross one more food obsession off my list.