Seriously. What is up with the maltas? I keep thinking I can get away with avoiding them, and then they just go and creep their way back into this blog.
A few weeks ago, just before Michael and I moved to our new place, Michael called me -- he was very excited. He had found a new bottle cap and it was AWESOME. He couldn't wait to bring it home. But there was one small wrinkle. It was a malta. Not just any malta: a malta from Israel. Whoa! Maybe this one had a chance.
The bottle cap is pretty cool -- it's red, black, has some wheat on it, and, yes, it is in Hebrew. Does it say Malt Star in Hebrew? I'm not sure.
But the actual taste: well. You know what I'm going to say. It tastes like licking grass and dirt. Michael thought there was a coffee undertone. But I couldn't keep it in my mouth long enough to taste that.
And since we live in a new neighborhood, it is obligatory that we check out all of the new corner delis for beverages that weren't within the small radius of the old place. The corner deli has already brought us this: Almaza. We thought that since it was right next to the Laziza, it might also be a fruity beverage that would be relatively palatable. But no. It tasted even worse than Malt Star. Michael mentioned to me the other day that if it weren't for this blog, he would never have known how many malt beverages there are, nor how popular they are. Me neither, Michael. Me neither.