2024 Halloween treats · Frankenstein movies · Halloween

Mum’s the Word

Way back near the beginning of the month, when I was reviewing treats from coffee chains, I was salivating over Starbucks’ Mummy Cookie. Check it out:

(Official Starbucks PR photo.)

Now, I am a huge fan of Starbucks’ frosted cookies. In fact, their’ snowman cookie (available each December) is a treat for the gods. This mummy looks like it could give the snowman a run for its money, and all the online hype suggested it might even be better. The cookie is made of shortbread, and the frosting is white chocolate. The design is absolutely adorable, with that minimalist round shape and two googly-eyes. I figured I’d keep this treat in reserve for my final post, assuming it would be the hands-down winner, unless something better came along.

So today–October 31–I strode into my local Starbucks so I could finally test-drive the mummy cookie. Imagine my horror when I saw this in the bakery case:

Kind of notable that they have a pre-printed sign to that effect.

Foiled again! I immediately searched the Starbucks app for a store that had the mummy cookie. This is what I encountered over and over again:

Actual screen shot.

Eventually I had to accept the reality that I’d missed the Mummy Cookie Window for 2024. Nevertheless, I still needed to do my final blog entry and I still had a hankering for a frosted cookie. So I headed to the closest bakery:

I explained to the delightful, costumed young lady at Caffe Santoro in Diamond Springs that I was looking for a good Halloween cookie. She looked remorseful, as though I had asked her for unavailable medicine for my ailing child. “I’m so-o-o sorry! We’d made a bunch of ghosts and pumpkins and bats, but they’re all sold out. All we have are these dinosaurs.”

Dinosaurs?

After a few other false leads I finally ended up at Love Birds Coffee and Tea Company.

I breathlessly asked the barista if they had any Halloween cookies. “We have pumpkins! Do you want orange or white?” Naturally and unimaginatively I selected the orange pumpkin. This looked promising.

Finally!

Conceptual Soundness: Love Birds has a pretty solid cookie concept here. They took a standard round cookie, and decorated it with thick frosting to create a plump, orange pumpkin. What sets this concept apart from other pumpkin cookies is the attention to detail, which we’ll discuss under “appearance” below. That, and they are willing to actually have cookies available on Halloween. That’s worth 3.5 points!

Appearance: I have to say, this is one of the best-looking pumpkin cookies I’ve seen. The frosting is so thick that they’re able to achieve a 3-D effect. Just look at those carved vertical lines defining several distinct lobes! They’ve also used three different colors, creating curly green vines and a brown stem, in addition to the pastel-orange pumpkin itself. It’s appealing and colorful and fun. It’s definitely worth 4 points.

Taste: Having spent the previous hour unsuccessfully searching for a Halloween treat, I was eager to sink my teeth into this attractive treat. I was hoping to capture some of the delight I’d associated with Starbucks’ elusive mummy cookie. But even before this pumpkin cookie hit my tongue I could tell something was wrong. Something–either the frosting or maybe the cookie itself–was emitting an odd smell that reminded me of industrial bathroom disinfectant. Then, as I began to chew the cookie, I noticed that it was under-baked. It was simultaneously too chewy and rather oily. The frosting, too, had an odd texture that was thin almost to the point of being runny. Now, to be fair, I’d had my heart set on a shortbread cookie, which is crisp and crumbly and buttery. But even after adjusting my expectations, it was clear that this cookie was limp and oily and Lysol-y. I will give it 1 point, because the flavor (versus the smell and the texture) wasn’t bad.

Limp biscuit.

Value: This cookie cost $4. It’s a good-size cookie, from an independent baker, so I guess that’s the going rate. The mummy cookie is $3.75, and it’s definitely smaller. So I’ll give this 2.5 points.

Total Treat Score: 11 points/16 points

If you’ve actually eaten a mummy cookie, please send me your review in the comments below

MAIL BAG

Several faithful readers suggested I mark this week’s passing of Teri Garr (1944-2024), who co-starred in Mel Brooks’ Young Frankenstein. I’ve noted several times in this blog that Young Frankenstein is one of my favorite movies, and it’s ideal for a night like this. And watching it would be a great way to honor the memory of Teri Garr. Thank you, Teri, for all the entertainment you gave us through television and movies.

Put the candle back!”
You can see the joke coming from a mile away, but it still cracks me up.

And so we come to the end of another October. I want to thank all my loyal readers, and especially those who shared their comments and recommendations, for joining me this month. It’s been a fun, albeit a very fattening, experience.

I’m already planning the 31 blog entries for October 2025. I can’t release details yet, but I think you’re going to find it to be both spooky and entertaining.

Meanwhile, I’m turning the blog back over to road trips, and we’ll have a couple of good ones in the next few months. Stay tuned, and have a Happy Halloween!

Brings back scarring memories.
2024 Halloween treats · Frankenstein movies · Halloween · Halloween candy

I Ain’t Got No Body….

One of my favorite movie scenes comes from Mel Brooks’ Young Frankenstein:

It’s kind of a contrived and corny gag, but it’s no less fun because of that. Plus, the more times you watch Young Frankenstein, the funnier and more lovable it becomes. Try it!

I was reminded of that scene as I drove past this Halloween decoration (?) this morning.

The curlers are a nice touch…

I was heading to the historic town of Folsom (pop: 82,000) to meet a friend for lunch. After a bratwurst on a pretzel bun (which, the tavern wench [her words, not mine] assured me, was their seasonal specialty) I walked across the street to Snooks Chocolate Factory. Here I asked the friendly proprietor what they had in the way of Halloween treats. I was led to a display case with two promising options: one was a chocolate in the shape of a bat, and the other was a small bag of “missing body parts.” Sticking with the theme of the skeletal recycler (who’s clearly missing numerous organs), I went for the missing parts.

Once I got home I then submitted the “missing body parts” to the rigorous testing you’ve come to expect here at Chasing Phantoms. So let’s get into our review.

But how can they be “missing” if they’re right there in the bag?

Conceptual Soundness: As you know, gummies (also called “jelly sweets” for our British friends) are jiggly, sticky, chewy little candies made out of gelatin. The first ones date back to 1864, when a company named Fryers of Lancashire made something called Unclaimed Babies, which during World War I became “Victory Unclaimed Babies.” I am not making this up. I’m guessing these were the precursors to today’s Sour Patch Kids.

Today gummies are frequently manufactured into revolting shapes (worms, spiders, fish…) They are also often powerfully flavored as sour, hot, licorice, fruit, etc. So, they’re a versatile canvas for a Halloween treat. I suppose making them into little “missing body parts” (brains, eyeballs, fingers) is a decent nod to Halloween. And by “decent” I mean 2 points.

Appearance: On the positive side, these are realistically rendered. The eyeballs are bloodshot, the brains have lots of convolutions, the fingers have well-defined cuticles. I think both the molding and coloring processes are top-notch. My only objection is that the fingers are colored red, yellow, and green, which seems like an odd choice. Overall, though, it’s a gross and revolting collection of body parts, which is of course what they were shooting for. 3.5 points.

Taste: Here’s my suggested slogan: “They taste as revolting as they look!” And by “revolting” I don’t mean really sour or spicy like some gummy candies. Instead these taste like very-slightly-sweetened hacky sacks. And they leave behind a lingering sensation like you’ve just been chewing on a wad of wax paper. It makes me wish my “missing body part” was my tongue. No points.

Value: A small 4-oz bag costs $4.50. This isn’t out of the question for a specialty candy shop. But I do think my money would have been better spent on the chocolate bat. I’ll give the value 2 points.

Total Treat Score: 7.5 points/16 points. So they don’t make good for an especially Halloween treat. But maybe they can be repurposed…

2024 Halloween treats · Frankenstein movies

Dutch Treat?

A new coffee place opened up near me a couple of months ago. It’s Dutch Brothers Coffee, which is a chain I’ve never visited in my life. They claim to have a special fall menu of “seasonal drinks,” so I figured I’d get me a big ol’ Caramel Pumpkin Brulee Breve, and park myself at a table to write this post.

Alas they only have drive-through service. I’ve never understood the advantage of drive-through food service. I mean, I suppose there’s some value if you live in Fargo and it’s 30 degrees below freezing and you just don’t want to get out of your warm car and slip on the ice. But here in California, it seems you’d want to get out of your metal cage and stretch your legs a bit. Instead, when you’re in the drive-through line, you’re held hostage by the little old couple in front of you who seem to be taken entirely by surprise when they’re asked what they’d like to order. “I was thinking I’d get some kind of coffee. What kinds of coffee do you have? What size is ‘tall?’ Is that the largest size? Wait, Martha is allergic to soy. Is there any soy in soy milk?” And don’t get me started on their unpreparedness when it’s time to pay. Meanwhile, your car is idling behind them, spewing exhaust and making climate change just a little bit worse.

If instead you were to walk inside and order at the counter, one of the baristas can negotiate with the little old couple while someone else takes your order. And if you’ve ordered something simple, chances are you’ll receive it immediately without being delayed by the person who ordered 20 different, customized specialty coffees for the office. Add in the ability to grab extra napkins, use the restroom, and maybe say hi to a neighbor, why wouldn’t you park your goddam car and ease your sciatica a bit?

Anyway, I placed my order and waited in line. The seasons changed, empires rose and fell, and then finally I pulled up to the service window, where I was handed a cup. This I took to a different coffee place–one that has indoor seating and wifi, and rhymes with “Car Ducks”–and got to work.

Conceptual Soundness. I actually like the concept of a “seasonal drink.” It allows you to lean into the unique aspects of the particular season. And by its very nature it provides an opportunity to try something different. The way I see it, a fall drink–particular one available in October–should make use of some combination of the following variables:

–Hot temperature (rather than iced, which is clearly for the summer)

–Festive cup (preferably in a fall color, decorated with autumn leaves or pumpkins or something along those lines)

–Sprinkles (employing the fall color palette) and/or whipped cream topping

–Fall spices (cinnamon, nutmeg, clove, etc.)

–Fall flavors (pumpkin, caramel, apple, etc.)

So, there’s lots of potential here. And here’s how Dutch Bros. describes their drink: “Pumpkin & salted caramel w/ Soft Top™, pumpkin drizzle & raw sugar sprinkles.” OK, that sounds pretty good. I’ll give the concept the full 4 points.

.Appearance of the Treat. I can’t say I was delighted to see the cup, which was your standard Dutch Bros white cup with the mysteriously-derived blue, red, and yellow stripes. (The Dutch flag is actually red white and blue, so their color scheme seems odd.) The Dutch Bros missed an obvious opportunity to leverage the cup design in the service of highlighting the fall season.

If I were feeling generous (which I’m not), I would give them props for the windmill design, which to me looks like place where Frankenstein’s monster dies in Bride of Frankenstein. But I’m probably the only person making that connection.

“Igor, get me some more pumpkin drizzle & raw sugar sprinkles.”

But setting aside the cup, maybe the drink itself is festive. I can’t wait to see the “Soft Top” (TM), whatever that is. Plus the pumpkin drizzle and the raw sugar sprinkles. This should be good. So I removed the lid and saw this:

Disappointment, thy name is Dutch Bros.

It looks like the lukewarm instant decaf they serve on Southwest. There is nothing visually appealing about this drink. Zero points.

Taste: This drink is very milky and sweet, but that’s it. There’s no spice that I can detect, and no hint of pumpkin or caramel. Just sugar and milk. There’s nothing seasonal about this at all. It’s boring. It’s uninteresting. It’s zero points.

Value: My medium drink costs $6.95. That seems on the steep side for such an uninteresting drink. But I’ll give it 1 point for value, since milk is expensive these days.

Total Treat Score: 5 points. Needless to say, I’m unlikely to be returning to Dutch Bros any time soon.

Frankenstein movies · Halloween Cocktails

Hungry Like The Wolf

Get it?

In 1982, an English New-Wave band named after a character in a 1968 soft-porn exploitation film starring Jane Fonda had a hit song with lyrics like “smell like I sound” and “mouth is alive/with juices like wine” (I’m not making any of this up!) The name of the song, by Duran Duran, was “Hungry Like The Wolf,” and the song kept running through my head as I made today’s cocktail, which is called a Wolf Bite.

Wolves have a definite place in the Halloween canon, usually in the form of werewolves. Which in turn always reminds me of this Young Frankenstein gag:

Anyway, the whole concept of werewolves dates back to the Middle Ages, but it didn’t really become a Halloween staple until the mid-twentieth century. Thia modern focus on werewolves was launched in 1935 with Universal’s The Werewolf of London. It should be noted that most of what we “know” about werewolves (the effect of the full moon, bite victims becoming werewolves themselves, silver bullets, etc) were created out of full cloth by Universal. In 1941 Universal released a second werewolf film (The Wolf Man) that starred Lon Chaney Jr, and this one really struck a popular chord.

Now we know where Will Ferrell got his hairstyle from.

There followed dozens of other werewolf films, including Frankenstein Meets The Wolfman (1943), Curse of the Werewolf (1961), American Werewolf in London (my fave) (1981), and of course the Michael J Fox vehicle, Teen Wolf (1985). Werewolves were also featured in the late Warren Zevon’s amusing top 40 hit, Werewolves of London (1978). Sing along with me:

“I saw a werewolf with a Chinese menu in his hand” is surely one of the greatest opening lines for a rock song.

But to get back to the Wolf Bite: Here’s what the recipe says about it: “This Wolf Bite shooter is one of those fun drinks with a special effect that can make a real splash at a Halloween party. It’s an interesting mix with a little surprise inside and one that guests will certainly take note of.” OK, this sounds promising, and given that we’ve established wolves/werewolves are a legit Halloween topic, let’s make one!

The Recipe: Combine 1/2 oz Midori melon liqueur, 1/4 oz absinthe, and 1 oz pineapple juice in a shaker with ice. Shake it (baby). Pour into a tall shot glass (I used a champagne glass), add a drizzle of 7-up, and then carefully add a dash of Grenadine.

The Ratings:

The drink has a neon color, with a bottom layer that’s a bit darker (c/o of the Grenadine). I think Grenadine is supposed to be the “special effect” mentioned in the recipe, but it’s not exactly “special” in my opinion. Granted, it’s the colors are somewhat unusual looking, as befits a Halloween drink. It would look even better with a suitable garnish, but even without one it visually stands out. I’ll give the appearance 2.5 points.

Moreover, this is actually a very tasty drink. The pineapple juice and melon liqueur give it sweet citrus backbone, and the 7-Up gives it an enjoyable fizz. The grenadine adds a little tartness and interest with its pomegranate flavor, and the absinthe is a totally unexpected wildcard. Somehow it all comes together, and goes down way too easy. (Fortunately, this is not a high-alcohol drink.) Taste gets 3.5 points.

The name gives a slight nod toward Halloween, but it would have been better if were called something like Werewolf Punch or an Eddie Munster. I can’t give it the full 2 points, but I’ll give the name 1.5 points.

Grand Total: 7.5 points.

Frankenstein movies · Halloween Cocktails

“OK, It’s about witch’s brew, but just hear me out.”

The relevance of the title to the post will be revealed near the end of this point. But here’s a hint:

Today’s drink recipe comes from loyal reader Alison K, who was a fellow grad student at UCSB. We’ve both moved on to greener pastures—in both our cases, quite literally.

Alison offered a drink called “Witches’ Brew,” which of course presents us with the age-old question: is it witches or witches’ or witch’s? Grammarians among my readership would weigh in. But not literally.

The 1980 movie with Teri Garr was called Witches’ Brew. You can watch it for free on YouTube here. But I can’t recommend it. The acting is as wooden as an Amish table. Garr’s work in Young Frankenstein is far superior.

“Hallo. Vould you like to have a roll in ze hay?”

Now where was I? I suppose the whole “witches/witches’/witch’s brew” trope comes from Shakespeare’s Macbeth (“Double double toil and trouble/Fire burn and cauldron bubble.”) But that recipe called for “Fillet of a fenny snake, In the cauldron boil and bake; Eye of newt and toe of frog, Wool of bat and tongue of dog, Adder’s fork and blind-worm’s sting, Lizard’s leg and owlet’s wing.” Perhaps knowing my low-level mixology skills, Alison sent a simplified verion.

The Recipe: Fill a tall glass with ice. Pour 2 oz of gin and top with 2 oz. of sparkling lemonade. Very carefully and slowly pour 2 oz. of Blue Curacao into the glass, letting it settle on the bottom. Garnish with a sprig of rosemary.

I had no rosemary. Sorry.

The Ratings: OK, let’s be blunt: There’s nothing especially Halloweeny about a refreshing, light-blue drink. There’s no floating eyeballs or spiderweb of chocolate syrup or pumpkin puree. It’s just a light. blue. drink. The recipe implies that the Blue Curacao would be a separate bottom layer, with a lighter gin-and-lemonade layer on the top, but that’s no how it worked for me. I can’t in good conscience give this any points for appearance.

But how does it taste? My first sip of the drink was not especially positive. As the recipe directs me to let the Blue Curacao “settle to the bottom,” I figured you weren’t supposed to stir it. As a result, my first sip tasted simply of gin. So, I went ahead and stirred the drink vigorously, and that changed everything. Properly mixed, it’s a distinctly citrusy drink, with the Blue Curacao and the lemonade doing their thing. It’s both sweet and tart in a very balanced and pleasant way. And the carbonation from the lemonade keeps things fizzy and playful. I give it 3.5 points for taste. Ah, hell, I’ll give a full 4 points. That might just be the gin talking, but this is a very enjoyable drink indeed.

The name “Witches Brew” is certainly appropriate to the season. Although perhaps a little cliche, and perhaps not exactly a fair description of a drink with three ingredients (two of which are quite pedestrian), it’s a perfect description of our quarry in this monthlong quest. (Plus, it’s one of Homestar Runner’s catchphrases. If you weren’t an adolescent boy in the early aughts, and/or you weren’t raising an adolescent boy in the early aughts, here’s a short introduction.) Two points.

Grand Total: 6 points.

Bonus Tip: If you’re like me, you’ve been mispronouncing Blue Curacao all your life. Here’s how to say it: