Food Dare: FOCO Aloe Vera Dessert

Raised from early childhood with the question: 'how do you know you don't like it, you haven't even tried it?' I've taken the question to heart and maybe even the slightest extreme where now my eating habits mirror my dating habits in that i've been known to put pretty much anything in my mouth once. maybe even twice just to make sure. This recurring 'Food Dare' section in fake. is designed to appeal to my playful sense of oral adventure and hopefully illuminate some of the more exotic and interesting food fare this citiy's shops have on offer.

They say the supermarket is a great place to pick up. I guess you could say I have a bit of an asian fetish then cos I seem to spend way too much time wandering the aisle of the various grocers and supermarkets around Gerrard and Broadview, weaving through aisles, chasing down exotic beauties that only speak to me in strange oriental umbrage, in accents incomprehensible.

Pacing through the aisles of a Gerrard East supermarket, I flash by shelves bursting with ramen [a subject for its own future fake.food series], ignoring the hordes of sweets and pleasantly stocked cans plump with all manner of food and bevvy– I'm looking for something a little more ecclectic; more novel. That hidden novelty finally reveals itself on the cusp of the frozen food section where i find the treat that's coming home with me: FOCO Aloe Vera Desert.

Aloe vera!?! Falling down more than once as a child i'm well acquainted with its medicinal properties and, along with garlic, its pancea status in the bosom of my mother's esteem. Up til now though, I didn't think the shit was edibie! well that's a good enough reason to try it. So I grab a couple of bags– they're cheap. like $.99 a pack– and take them home with me for a quiet evening in.

Heeding the "Chilled Before Serving" advice on the bag I can only assume that refrigerating it while i have some dinner is what's required. Mind you, how much refrigerating does something need if it's chilled before serving? Ever seen stressed out Aloe? Nah, me neither.

Supper finished, candle light and soft music at the ready I prepare myself to be seduced as I crack open the contents of the wonderfully squishy bag (feels like i imagine a bizarro-world breast implant would) and pour them into a bowl. Undetered by the sheer volume of liquid spilling into the bowl along with the peeled pieces of green-striped translucent aloe, i reach for a spoon and accept my first mouthful.

Anyone who's ever peeled a grape or eaten a lychee has a vague idea of what the pleasing toothy crunch of Aloe is like. Actually, cross the aforementioned with a cucumber and you've got it exactly. As for the taste, I'd be lying if I said the plant's natural flavour wasn't almost completely obscured by the artificially muscaty infused sugar solution which amplify the whole grape cum lychee vibe. Still, once the syrup's strong taste dissipates, it reveals the plant's pleasant, ghostly floral flavours, teasing in the foreground of your tastebuds for a second and then evanescese, requiring another mouthful just to make sure you didn't imagine it all.

Despite the package's claims touting the benefits of consuming Aloe Vera (apparently, amoung other things, it "helps to maintain tone of blood vessels, promotes good circulation, decrease body stress" being naturally rich in Vitamins, Minerals, Amino Acids and Enzymes) according to the Wikipedia entry on Aloe, there have been very few proper studies conducted on the benefits of interal uses of the plant. That being said, i dunno why you'd be looking for anything with healing properties in the desert section of an Asian supermarket in the first place.

The Verdict? Although it's either a bit too much flavour (if you drink all of the acompanying liquid) or too little flavour (if you're expecting a powerful flavour burst from this subtle cactus) it would definitely make a fine addition to a summer fruit salad for your next potluck and spark some interesting conversations as well.