Docile's Maxmallows

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 Maxmallow

 

Shape and colour

The shape is architectural, a joyful spiralling, very Coney Island. It seems to date from the oh-so-distant days when postmodernism might have promised hope.

The colour, likewise, is purest seaside resort: Brighton, Blackpool and Skegness in four glorious sun-faded pastels. But does it convey the vital ingredients of any seaside day trip: easy pleasure, plastic tat and a kiss-me-quick hat, a snog or more with a stranger, fish and chips, cheap music, cheaper beer, and more than a dash of seediness? All serenaded by a thudding hangover the next day?

The Oral Experience

At first the Maxmallow is very soft, like the faintest brushing of a butterfly's wings on your cheek. It's flowery, floury. A dry kiss. Aloof... or shy? 

Then, stealthily, the Maxmallow melts sweetly. You run your tongue up its twisting grooves, removing the sugary dust. And it gives itself away with gracious pacing, an adagio by Ravel. It is first spongy, then (yes!), more compliant, dissolving, melting but still somehow airy. It mesmerises, it is Redonesque, indeed -the Odilon Redon not of brooding Noirs but the lofty Chariot of Apollo. And thus brings to mind not so much the the carnal pleasure-seeking of the English working classes but the refined escapism of opium scented salons.

 

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