Speculoos by Lotus (Euro Snacks Pt. I)

Jesus fuck, I honestly don't even have the words to describe the genius of this snack, or the patience to go over all the details and backstory for you ignorant non-Euros. Just believe me that this is a historic moment in the history of snacks while I try and explain this to you.

Alright, I grew up in Belgium. In my homeland, and a few other neighbouring countries, we have this dude called Sinterklaas, who is like a skinny, scary and vaguely racist version of Santa. Read more about him here. He comes and gives you treats, and one of them is called Speculoos. They're a very sugary kind of cookies with a light cinnamon flavor, that are awesome to dip in milk or coffee as a kid. If your mom doesn't make you coffee-dipped speculoos sandwiches, you are basically set to turn into a coke dealer or a smack addicted prostitute, because speculoos sandwiches are the only true way of showing affection to your children. They look like this:


So, I grew up with these delicious things, and then I moved to Canada in 2005 and went cold turkey. No more speculoos. It was like being told your mother doesn't love you anymore, while getting touched by your uncle, who is a police officer and thus has a moustache, while his wife savagely swings a bunch of kittens into a brick wall by their tails.

Fast forward to a few weeks ago, when my lovely roommate Tracey got home from a trip to Belgium, and said she had a gift for me. She opened her bag, and took out a jar that said "Speculoos". Upon seeing this word, I instantly said "AWESOME", but it took a few seconds to realize what I was looking at. It was speculoos cookies, in the form of a spread. I had no idea this existed. It was like being told your mother loves you again, your uncle died a terrible death, and you have a little brother you didn't know about, who loves you very much. Well, I popped the lid off that motherfucker and ate the shit out of it. For the next few days I would come home from work and go straight for the jar and just eat it. No bread, no spoon, no nothing. Just me and the fucking speculoos. I'm sure I could have put it in anything, I'm sure it would have gone well with anything, but I didn't give a fuck. I wanted my speculoos untouched by the stench of your foul north american foods.

I am reviewing this for many reasons. First off, it was the best snacking week of my life. Second, because I want to make you jealous. Third, because Euro snacking is some next level shit. Fourth, because holy fuck this is some tasty ass shit. Well, good luck ever getting to taste it. Unless you're planning to travel to Belgium or maybe Holland, or you have a good friend there that will cough up the ridiculous shipping costs, you are fucked. There's a tiny little bit of residue in my jar that I left for nostalgia, but if you even so much as look at it from the corner of your eye I will fucking murder you with the shards of the jar after I smashed it over the head of your firstborn child, which you will have after I violate you or your female partner and wait nine months, just hanging out in my room in the dark eating pizza and drinking cream soda and watching Seinfeld while you are tied up in my closet, buried under a pile of smelly socks (and my feet fucking stink) and cassette tapes I don't listen to anymore. There's bound to be some good ones, but you can't listen to them, because you're tied up and I am watching Seinfeld and if you make noise (cassettes or crying) I will fucking kill you. After nine months of you enduring this, plus me yelling at you for hours a day about how you are a disgusting whore of a human being for letting this happen to you, you will be forced to feel yourself being stabbed to death with said shards of glass containing traces of two things: the blood of your child you never knew, and the speculoos you never tasted. It will be up to you to decide which one stings more. If this does not sound pleasant, which it shouldn't unless you need help you sick psychopath, you know what you must do: talk a northern american company into buying the rights to Speculoos, and making it available to both you and I. Do it, and do it soon, because once the cravings set in, I will be carrying my empty jar around in the streets, hoping I catch someone glancing at it, and it could be you. It could be you. Give me the Speculoos.