Anger Burger

Mike is a marzipan connoisseur in the same way that I am a ginger ale connoisseur: we’ll generally take what we can get, but we have great reverence (and will part with wheelbarrows full of money¹) for the good stuff.

Lets cut to the chase: this is the good stuff.  Italian Stramondo marzipan is unquestionably the cream de la crack of the almond paste circuit, a perfectly smooth, creamy, intensely almondy brick sealed in plastic to retain moisture.  It’s soft enough that a thick piece will slowly bend as you hold it, and milled so finely that it melts like chocolate on the tongue.

To be completely honest, I don’t recommend baking with Stramondo; at an average cost of about $13 for a half a pound, it’s not really pocket-friendly.  But as a nibble?  Painfully delightful.  Addictive.  Offensively delicious.  I say this with a level of embarrassment, so I hope you allow it the credence it deserves: I get sort of faint when I eat it.  It’s so overwhelming that the endorphin rush is like the quivery adrenaline pop of being startled by a loud noise.

When I lived in Olympia, Washington, I bought it at the local food Co-op, though I can’t say if they still carry it.  In Los Angeles I buy it at Whole Foods, though it’s readily available online for around $12.

¹Zimbabwean money.