My friend, Bill, sent an
excited e-mail about discovering this "really cool, really yummy"
toothpaste called Fructodent. Interestingly, I happened to be on
my second experimental tube of the stuff...and found it to be worthy of
every ounce of his enthusiasm. In addition to being quite unusual
and tasty, it comes in a fun-shaped tube that stands on its head.
The toothpaste pushes through some flexy-rubber opening which
keeps the whole process slop-free and has the added bonus of preventing
you from putting too much toothpaste on your toothbrush. It calls
itself "gourmet", which I find a little pretentious...but I'm willing
to forgive them because it really is a nifty product.
Bill writes, "Well, here are my
thoughts on my toothpaste. I don't like it. I mean, the whole process
of having to apply the sticky paste to a small pad of bristles and then
scrape your teeth with it every morning and night is just a pain in the
ass. Aquafresh used to get me somewhat excited about brushing when I
was a kid because it had those cool three stripes of toothpaste that
magically swirled into one gel when you squeezed the bottle. But come
on, Crest, Colgate, Mentadent, yuck! And while I give credit to Tom's
of Maine for trying to make a granola-esque toothpaste, well, folks, it
just tastes awful.
Thank the Toothpaste God for the
Italian people behind Fructodent. Now I look forward to brushing! Green
apples bursting in my mouth every night and every morn! And it fights
cavities, gingivitis and other mouth ickiness. All of the
delicious, crisp flavor of green apples in a surprisingly innovative
toothpaste gel. Flouride included. "
I happened upon Fluoridex in a most
peculiar way. You see, I have chronic dry mouth which caused me to have
significant problemos with the dental units in m'mouth last year. My
new dentist gave me a "prescription toothpaste" - ooh la la - to help
prevent decay due to my dryness. Hmmm... maybe I should consider a
douche. Moving on.
I think Fluoridex has twice the
amount of fluoride than "normal" toothpastes like Fructodent. Parents -
keep this product away from the kids - we don't want too many people
with no decay!
It also has potassium nitrate in it.
I don't feel like researching whether other toothpastes, like
Fructodent, do or don't, but I'll assume they don't because the
advertisers for Fluoridex make such a big fucking deal about it.
I must say, for a prescription
toothpaste, it actually doesn't taste too poorly. It's minty. It's a
turquoise-esque gel. Pretty standard. It pales in comparison to the
flavorful burstings of Fructodent.
The one true irritating thing about
Fluoridex - you can't eat or drink for at a 1/2 hour after using it. I
know, I know - have it at bed, shouldn't be a problem - but, well, I
don't like being told what to do by the Toothpaste God.
Hmmm... I'm thinking of venturing into dental floss next time.
So, it would appear that not only has
the Tiny Tangerine Toothpaste site provided several select members of
the public with chuckles, it has also managed to anger a fair,
red-headed friend of mine. “How could I possibly put down
Tom’s of Maine toothpaste on cyberspace?” she boldly asked
me before a Hem (an amazing band) concert in Chicago’s
uber-trendy Wicker Park neighborhood. In her eyes, the good people from
the beautiful state of Maine manufacture the perfect toothpaste –
crisp, effective and environmentally friendly.
So, with trepidation, I decided to give the toothpaste from New England another try.
I reluctantly purchased a tube of apricot-flavored Tom’s of Maine
natural plaque tartar control plus whitening toothpaste. I
couldn’t bear the thought of forcing myself to try anymore
spearmint, wintermint or peppermint gels.
This paste contains xylitol, an ingredient Trident gum has recently
begun to advertise as being in their chewy wads, as well. According to
www.xylitol.org, “[p]ure xylitol is a white crystalline substance
that looks and tastes like sugar. Also, “[x]ylitol is classified
broadly as a carbohydrate and more narrowly as a polyol.”
I have no idea what that means.
Apparently testing confirms that xylitol is the best sweetener for
teeth. (I wonder what parameters were used to determine this.)
Regardless, sugarfree chewing gums and candies made with the carb. have
been endorsed by six national dental associations.
Moving on beyond xylitol… I was pleasantly surprised with the
tube that the toothpaste comes in. The plastic tube isn’t quite
as malleable as those customary of such luminaries as Colgate, Crest
and your generic supermarket brand. Thus there is less opportunity for
I wouldn’t describe the toothpaste’s taste as bad. Rather
plain, it surprises with an apricot-y afterthought. It would appear
that the apricot (Prunus armeniaca L.) and mango (Mangifera indica L.)
flavoring works well in the concoction.
The greatest flaw in the toothpaste is that it leaves the mouth feeling
immediately dried out; as if the salivary glands are being sucked in. I
don’t know what that’s all about. The fluoride-free formula
uses sodium bicarbonate to provide the brusher with a sense of mouth
freshness, and sodium lauryl sulfate as a dispersant. I suspect these
ingredients are the culprits.
Therefore, I recommend that the residents of Kennebunk, Maine consult
with the Italians behind Fructodent to see what chemicals help to
prevent their toothpaste from depriving the mouth of the wondrous
moisture only saliva can offer the tongue and gums.
Other than that, I suppose that I now officially endorse Tom’s of
Maine as a manufacturer of pretty decent toothpaste. And that’s
not easy in the world of Whole Foods.
P.S. For more information on Hem, check out www.hemband.com.
This past weekend was glorious. My wonderful friend, Linda Tran (also
the name of an acclaimed porn star) and her boyfriend, who has been
dubbed Dudeman, came in to Chicago for a weekend. She, Dudeman, another
friend Vanee, and me spent three fun-filled days of sharing stories,
playing card games with odd names like Farkel, touring Millenium Park,
taking an architecture cruise on the Chicago River, touring the Art
Institute of Chicago and eating at an assortment of different
restaurants in different ethnic restaurants.
Dudeman is a marketing/designer guru. So, I asked him what kind of logo
he would create if a customer came to him with the idea of making
marionberry (a big blackberry native to the Pacific northwest)
toothpaste. He didn't think it would work.
Little did he know about fructodent.
I brought him my current bottle, Strawberry Mint, and he delightedly tucked it into his backpack, thinking it was a gift.
Not to be rude, I let him keep it, but now I have to buy another tube.
OK, maybe this story sucks.
Well, I finally did it. I got over my fear and dove into the waters of Mint & Licorice Fructodent.
up I hated the taste of black licorice, or anything anice-y. It just
tastes yucky, kind of like tobacco-stuffed up ones nostrils.
What's even stranger is that I had the most wonderful black labrador named Licorice growing up. But I digress.
was really intrigued with the concept of licorice flavored toothpaste,
and with the sticks that decorate the tube of paste. How could it
possibly be good stuff? Why in Hell would someone manufacture such a
product? (Duh, to appeal to weirdos like me.)
later, a toothbrush and some lukewarm water later, I'm happy to report
that the flavor is quite wonderful. It's sorta similar to that old
Blackjack gum that you never see anyone buy at drugstores, but know you
also happy to announce that I found a way of contacting the good
Italian stallions at Fructodent. Any questions we, the public, may have
can be directed to: email@example.com.
But what to ask? And do I ask it in Italian?
Well, I don't have to decide this tonight.
I was thrilled to find out that my brother, Danny, decided to adopt a
little puppy several weeks ago; a mutt... his dream dog. A cute
sheperd/retriever/collie-ish thing. For several days, Danny debated
over the name. He's fairly in touch with his Jewish roots, so he wanted
the dog's name to be Yiddishkeit.
To my shock and horror, he decided upon naming the mutt Topol, after
the man who first played the part of Tevye ("Fiddler on the Roof") on
I pleaded with Dan to change his mind. For you see, Topol is also the
name of a horrific toothpaste that I saw advertised endlessly on TV in
the 80s for elderly folks with dentures. Gross paste the color of
carnation Pepto Bismol.
I know the dog's gonna be great - but for Christ's sake - NEVER NAME A DOG AFTER DESIGNER DENTURE TOOTHPASTE!!!!