It’s ‘CRUNKY NUDE BALL…..’
Smashing into the earth hundreds of thousands of years ago like a meteor with a mission, CNB (heretofore known as YOUR snack of choice) and splintering into thousands of tiny but delectable morsels—It’s Crunky Nude Ball** (okay, I lied about the moniker).
You don’t have to be Nude to eat it, but you’d better be Crunky.
….and, of course, thanks to SNL: ‘Do not taunt ‘Crunky Nude Ball’
I’ve never eaten one myself, clothed or otherwise, but with a name like that (with a name like that, I’m not eating one myself) it’s probably pretty good. The representative photo (exhibit ‘A’) was only acquired after many, many boxes of this snack disappeared off our kitchen counter. I’m not naming names, but I can follow the crumbs to the Playstation.
Another hearty endorsement from either my eight year old or my thirty five year old.
Like many of the Japanese products we’ve looted from the shelves at the local ‘combeni’ (and, yeah, that’s 7/11….or rather ‘Seven’ ‘CONVENIence’ store) it sports a name that would make your typical Madison Avenue exec itch to set to a jingle.
For what it’s worth, they do also offer the ‘Crunky’ not so nude/not so clothed (we don’t know) bar, but well, at YYC, we like ’em Buff.
(**not to be consumed under any circumstance after hours at Hinokicho Park)