The Least Useful Guide to Fukuoka

I think this senbei (rice cracker) typify the characteristics of Fukuoka—a bit overdoing, and I like this taste created based on a “delicious × delicious =more delicious” mentality—in  other words, overseasoned.

According to my husband, who is so proud of a born Tokyonian (is there any word to say this mentality, Tokyo-proud?) and never agrees the taste of Fukuoka (apart from fresh  fish), rice crackers should be seasoned simply with soy sauce after roasted over charcoal fire. By his definition, rice crackers must be as hard as rocks, and as salty as sea water, you must be prepared to have your tooth chipped and your blood pleasure skyrocketed to have Tokyo rice crackers. Are the rice crackers for him a torture, or snack?

Meanwhile, in Fukuoka, the texture of rice crackers is generally crisp, rather than hard. We have lots of onomatopoeias associated with textures of food. If I explain the texture of the Tokyo rice crackers, I would say bari-bari, while for rice crackers that I have been familiar with, I would say saku-saku. Could you see the difference? 

Also, the taste of rice crackers seems (much, or unnecessary) richer here. They are fried and seasoned with various seasonings, most of which are sweeter; sweetened soy sauce, salt and suger,  and miso.

Now, we have finally arrived the point where we talk about the actual product.  This rice cracker has all the characteristics of the local taste; soft, fatty, and rich in taste. On the top of that, the surface of this rice cracker is sprinkled with bits of dried spring onion. Opening the package, you will detect the irritating smell (or appetising flavor, depending on your taste) of spring onions. 

This senbei is so heavy that you will be satisfied, or fed up, with only one piece, even if you are a big snacker who eats up a whole packet of crisps at once.