I am an almond addict. Any kind, anywhere. I love them toasted, salted, flavored, yogurt-dipped, turned into milk, and buried in a candy bar. Doesn’t matter, I love them all ways.
The problem is, I love them a little bit too much. For every variety out there, I’ve calculated exactly how many I can eat to equal 1 WWP, 2WWP, 3WWP, and so on. But as soon as I crack that can open, knowing how many equal one point is pretty much useless, because I never stop there.
What I really love about the recent surge in almond varieties available in grocery stores is that there really is a different flavor for every naughty craving I have. The spicy habanero ones are awesome when I’m craving potato chips. The raspberry ones are good when I’m craving candy, and the sweet & salty ones are amazing when what I really wanted was chocolate. My real downfall are the lemon yogurt covered ones. I KNOW they’re candy, but I can’t help myself.
I stupidly rationalize it with the thought that if it came from our local hippie co-op, it’s healthy. Combine that with the notion that the co-op actually sells the lemon yogurt ones in BULK BINS, and we’ve got a situation. (On a related note, they also sell pretzels dipped in raspberry yogurt in the bulk bins. Heavens to Betsy, I need to stop letting myself shop there.)
So my real problem is that almonds — of any variety — usually come in pretty handy containers to begin with — self-sealing pouches or tight-lidded 6-oz cans ready for a hiking knapsack or gym bag or other exercise-related on-the-go carryall.
And let’s be honest. I’m sitting at a desk with that can doing no exercise other than breathing and shoveling them in my piehole. Thus, a 6-oz can is pretty dangerous. It *looks* smallish, but when you realize how many are in there…it’s just a binge waiting to happen.
I discovered Emerald Vanilla Roast Almonds at Target last weekend, and was even more excited to find them in boxes of 100-calorie pouches. Normally, I know everyone poo-poos the thought of spending extra money when you can package your own portions at home and save a few pennies. But in the past, at least where almonds are concerned, I decidedly lack that capacity.
The price really wasn’t bad at all (at least at the store I was shopping in that day) compared to the big canisters, so I grabbed them without a second thought. I’d had the cocoa-roast version before, and while they weren’t my favorite, I thought I might like these better. I was right.
They taste the way cake batter smells. Amazing. And they aren’t sticky or melty or messy at all. The dryness of this kind — much like the cocoa flavored ones — is pretty impressive compared to other varieties (honey roasted, I’m looking at you).
And best of all, if I throw one of these pouches in my purse in the morning, that is exactly how many I can eat — no more, no less; no hiding the can in a desk drawer to take my mind off it only to pull it back out an hour later for a second or third helping. (In case you’re wondering, the bags have about 18 almonds in them, which really is enough.)
I like how this kind, in particular, doesn’t seem to have much more nutritional impact than the regular plain roasted almonds on the shelf next to it. The difference really was minimal, and when I whipped out my calculator, didn’t even change the WWP value. Winning!
So, if you’re addicted to almonds like me, go try them. If you’re not addicted to almonds, go try them anyway. If you’re allergic to almonds — okay, don’t try them if you’re allergic. But know that you have my pity, because these are awesome.