White Hot Red Hots Jelly Beans

I kept thinking of Jefferson Airplane's Wooden Ships ("You must try some of my purple berries...") when I was shooting and eating these because I think my fingers were turning violet. You can see than even the candy was getting cold.
 Ferrara Pan's White Hot Red Hots Jelly Beans puts the same coat on a new product, and it works. That's an accomplishment that many repurposing candies can't manage.
The red hot taste is there, but it's not as annoying as some of the other hard candy which goes soft, like Life Savers Gummies or even Chewy Lemonheads.
"I been eating them for six or seven weeks now." Or could.

My Crumby Gummi Valentine

I could not eat them with popped corn.

I could not eat them with a Gorn.

I could not eat them in a car.

I could not eat them in a bar.

I do not like two out of three.

I do not them, let me be.

Valentine Jujyfruits had a fun idea when they put Raspberry (red), Cherry, (pink), and Strawberry (white) into one box for Valentine's Day. But the fun stopped there as my beloved Jujyfruits became a good example of how the same ol' same ol' with a bit of seasonal packaging is not always lame.
The white strawberry was the worst, the pink cherry passable...or was it the red raspberry—please don't make me eat anymore to check.
One sickly taste is distinguishable from another, but not in a good way. It's especially disappointing when you see how well Starbursts Fave Reds (strawberry, fruit punch, watermelon, and cherry) turned out.
Before I continue, I have to remind you that I LOVE Jujyfruits, they are one of my favorite candies in the most esteemed field of gummi.
Maybe if the Valentine's theme had a daring butter cream or a harmless vanilla flavoring for white or did a cherry with vanilla ice cream thing, I don't know, but these flavors did not work for me.

Heavy Hearts

Sweetarts Hearts Gummies smell as good in the package as Junior Mints do in the box,
but the tangy aroma permeates the plastic bag and stays longer than stink on a dog (in a good way). (If there is a good way for stink to stay on a dog.)
What struck me about the weighty gummies was how well they kept on a road trip and how, when trying to chew the formidable pieces, they could change into any flavor your, wait for it, heart desires.
I guess they're tart pink and purple flavor. I pretended the purple was sugar plumb.
Didn't care for them at first, and found the  hearts too heavy—ha—and bland, but you only need a few to satisfy a sugar craving—some of you—and they do not go stale easily, if at all, no matter how long you leave them forgotten in a bag somewhere after a photo shoot.
It surprised me when I started to think how good one would taste if only I could remember where I left them. The substantial pieces blend tart and sweet in an underwhelming, subtle way, seem indestructible, and present a pretty, fragrant gummi bouquet.

Have A Heart

Sometimes I think mainstream candy isn't  really trying to come up with new holiday twists. When I started buying Valentine's Day candy last November, my camera bag was stuffed with Valentine Jujyfruits, Sweetarts Hearts Gummies, and Heart Shaped Junior Mints.
Not that there's anything wrong with that.
And speaking of Seinfeld, is it a coincidence that two out of three of those candies are featured in Seinfeld episode where someone's in the hospital?
Although the chocolate is still amicably dark, some of the peppermint glops are red, and the pieces are significantly larger than classic Junior Mints. The hefty hearts goo over generously and linger on your taste buds a trickle longer too. I love how easily you can melt each heart with your tongue.
The oft forgotten (by me) Junior Mints may have a more imaginative and delicious holiday offspring in Junior Mints Peppermint Crunch, but the classically cool flavor and pleasant weight of each heart is a happy Valentine's Day nosh.

Pigging Out On Candy Canes

Normally I'd shop for my criminally insane bacon products somewhere like stupid.com, so I was thrilled to look no further than the Urban Outfitters on lower State for these.

I also got a little blue tree which goes well with my favorite Christmas theme of late, If You Can't Beat Them, Join Them or A Tacky Little Christmas. Putting a hook through raw bacon might be more in line with the latter, but these will do pig, these will do.

After the horror of tasting holiday bacon hard candy, I think they're best treated as decorations or possibly a seasonal threat for profane children. As I'm sitting here with one stuck in my mouth like Ralphie in A Christmas Story, I find the trick is not to swallow.

How funny is it that Accoutrements Hanukkah Candy Canes (peppermint) are next to the Bacon canes on one page and a Moses action figure on another?

A Fistful of GrapeVines

Coke or Pepsi, Twizzlers or Red Vines, I like all four, but now I love GrapeVines more.

You can almost taste the smell of grape. No, I'm not tripping, there's a distinct grape flavor that breaks through the five senses creating the sense of smell-taste, "smaste" as it were. Your Grape Jolly Rancher, Sun-Rise Grape Soda, and other fine grape pops have it (Grape Juicy Twists do not).

GrapeVines Purple Grape Twists have that honest, earnest retro grape flavor that works fresh or stale—I love a candy that, like fine wine and Peeps, gets better with age.

GrapeVines seem lighter and more addictive than RedVines, with a pleasant aftertaste minus the artificial flavor that makes you want to wash your mouth out with Dove. The candy, not the soap.

The American Licorice Company's Timeline has the Purple Grape Twists making an appearance in 2002, but I just found and tried my first "tray." I see reference to other Fruit Vines such as Orange (tempting), Green Watermelon, and Blue Raspberry (not). I don't, however, see where to buy them online, at least not on the first page of search results so I'm out. And since I can't remember where I got these, I'm making a mental note to start making mental notes where I get candy.

Mental Note: Invent edible mental notes.

Cinnabon Candy Canes

Cinnabon. The name evokes sweet dripping sin and an aroma that make angels (on a diet) cry. That's all the label of 12 canes says,  "CINNABON," and that's all it needs to say.

The candy canes, with their orange and brown stripes painted on butter cream white, are just in time for Thanksgiving. They would have been nice for your Halloween tree, yes, that's a thing, but I didn't notice them until they cleared out the Halloween stuff and jammed the aisles with Christmas decorations. 

The first bite might not be as tantric as biting into a hot, gooey bun dripping with frosting on a bed of warm dough and cinnamon, but it's pretty, pretty, pretty good. 

The essence of morning bun smacks your tongue with the unmistakable mark of Cinnabon and lingers there with a tantalizing combination of cinnamon and sugar. I got these at Walgreens, and see a few places that carry them online. Cinnabon candy canes are made by Spangler, best known for their classic peppermint candy canes, so I imagine they'll be in wide release.

Poppin' Cane: Candy Cane Tootsie Pop Drops

The idea of minting up a Tootsie Pop Drop seemed repugnant on a sunny autumn day. Then I sampled as I photographed, as is my custom, and am currently working my way through the 3.5 oz box. 

Too much drop, not enough Tootsie was my first thought, now I'm just worried I'll run out. The center of the Candy Cane Tootsie Pop Drop is about the size of chewed Chiclets, so although not big enough, delicious just the same. The one broken peppermint drop I found seemed to benefit from the break more than a fractured orange or grape or cherry Pop Drop.

Instead of sweet and salty or sweet and sour, Candy Cane Tootsie Pop Drops are sweet and minty and hard and chewy. The peppermint is a good, hearty flavored drop which could rival any cane and begs the question, wouldn't a Tootsie Roll Pop Candy Cane be cool.

The box is a little busy, but the silver pouch is a great color choice, keeps the candy fresh, and opens easier than any packet of candy I've ever torn into. It's a good choice for movie sized—easy to open in the dark, not too noisy, easy to sneak in and would sell well at the counter. I bet they'd go over great in a candy dish and the weather might help prevent hard candy stick.

It might be a little early to sample Christmas candy and crack open filbert nuts with meat mallets, but build it (point of purchase displays and candy aisles) and they'll succumb. 

Halloween Leftovers

Out of ideas for leftover Halloween candy, might I suggest a maggot and tomato sandwich. Except for the gelatin, the It's Alive Creepy Crawly Sandwich with Marshmallow & Gummy Candy is vegan. So I guess it's not then.

It's a 4.9 oz grotesque gummy marshmallow sandwich made in China and distributed by Riviera Brands. The stomach churning behemoth comes in a half sandwich shaped plastic container, then another plastic wrapper which goes a long way to explain its outstanding taste, plastic. The wrappers are helpful because granulated sugar falls off the candy bread as soon as you open it.

The smell is not pleasant, like something approaching black licorice marinated in Vick's Formula 44.

It's hefty. The marshmallow sandwich has the opposite of an aftertaste, it has a foretaste. Before you taste it, you know you shouldn't be eating it.

A dignified nibble—who am I kidding—treats you to a mouth full of something as organic as a Lady Gaga lettuce dress. It's far worse if you also get a bite of gummy whatever. The sickening smell comes more from the gummy fixin's than the thick marshmallow slices. There's a combination of plastic, perfume, and possibly rubber flavoring at play. The pickle, lettuce piece might have been green apple and a peck at the worm maggot wasn't as indigestible as the rest.

Better used as a threat, weapon, or a prop, you'd be better off with real maggots and spiders and hard pressed to tell the difference. Was that last part too much?

Goo Goo Gone Wild

Pleasant View Candy Shop Goo Goo Bars, eight ounces of Amish candy from Soldier's Grove by way of The Shoe Box,  is one of those chewy, gooey, mawkish messes that gets inside your head until you take it in your jaws like a werewolf tearing through flesh even though you had no intention of ever touching it because it was for your parents who treat Amish candy like Kosher wine at seder.

Wait, "Ma, I'm not Jewish."

The Amish Goo Goo Bar is built with piles of mini marshmallows, junk chocolate, and globs of caramel. I believe the slab capable of moving across the desktop and running amuck. I fully expect it to pop out of my stomach Alien-style later.

A quick whiff could put ten pounds on your arse and send the plastic container into reactive hypoglycemia. Okay, I'm done now.

I thought it was turtle candy at first, then thought it something you have to shove in your mouth without thought or warning damn the consequences. It's the thick caramel seductively sliding off the marshmallows that get you.

This brick needs nuts or a cookie to counter the onslaught of sugar. Less than half—which is still a lot—makes you want low sodium soup, or multi grain bread, or spinach or grass or grits or something.

I do like how the caramel lingers, but the last thing this hunk of calories needs is a foundation of lousy chocolate. If ever a dessert screamed for crunch and salt, it's the Pleasant View Candy Shop Goo Goo Bar.

It was surprisingly less than appalling with diet Mtn Dew.

Crunchy Bones

In other words, these Skeleton Bones are crunchy Cheetos with white cheddar. Although none of the skeleton bones are detailed to look like either skeletons or bones, the color is a sickly white and would look good in a ghoulish serving dish.

The white cheddar adds a lighter and less savory twist which gives you more crunch than flavor, making them seem stale.

Yet there's a consistency to the airiness of the corn snacks, making me wonder if they're supposed to be heavier on crunch than taste. There should be more complexity to the lackluster cheese flavor, but  since the bones are a one-time holiday snack, it might not really matter. They're more addictive than they should be and could be fun at parties.

They're also short on crumbs and don't stain your fingers. I'm not sure if the packaging is simple or bold, but I'd want to leave the package around or label the dish to let people know they're skeleton bones, not stale white Cheetos.

World Market's Skeleton Bones aren't the worst thing I've washed down with beer, but much of their charm depends upon knowing they're skeletal remains. Okay for the season, I'd look elsewhere to satisfy my corn curl Jones.

Twix A Box and a Hard Place

An enthusiastic I'm assuming young man named Brad sent me a grocery store sized box of crunchy caramel-dripping candy bars on behalf of Twix. I ate one and felt the need to drive around town until the other 35 were gone and out of reach. I didn't have to drive far.

I hilariously attacked the box after a manicure when I'd gotten enough open with a dull scissors to see what was inside. I then turned into a far less co-ordinated version of Edward Scissorhands, snipping at every possible angle while holding my nails aloft. Long story short, manicure ruined, Twix consumed in inhuman manner in a parking lot while two women watched from a car in what was either shock or admiration.

That hit of sugar sent me straight to a computer to rave about the first candy bar I've had in I don't know how long. The devilish milk chocolate draped over the crunchiest bit of heaven to hold up a pillow of caramel—my cell phone vibrates—it's my dad, he locked his keys in his car. He gives me only a name of a road and hangs up. This particular road is long enough to connect to another town.

When I called back, he to be told that he was on a hill, then, by a bank (which bank and for that matter what kind of bank, the place where I have no money or an upward slope? ).  After circling the parking lot of a savings and loan he used in the seventies, I found him strolling out the front door, cup of coffee in hand. He had no problem posing for the photo as all Dempsey-Olsons are trained to do at birth.

My mother, being a Farino, came out when she heard the words "candy bar" and grabbed a handful for the "girls at the dentist's office." I didn't ask, but questioned the sedition of bringing two handfuls of candy bars into a dentist's office. Yet I knew that's what she was going to do, those candy bars right there. Love the expression on my dad's face.

As long as I was in the old neighborhood I thought of of Jackie and Bob.

Since I haven't given one of our best taste testers (in the blue slippers) much to do since last summer I decided to drop by her kitchen, which smelled of garlic, oregano, and the caliber of artichoke you'd crawl over your starving sister to eat with your bare hands. I got rid of another handful in the Clementi kitchen, but after I left I realized some pretty serious sweet tooths—teeth?—would be up for a birthday party, I should have left more. The party is for my Uncle Phil, whose real age no one seems to know. I'm going with 100. Ish. 

Off to Aunt Em's who called to say she had the perfect birthday card for Uncle Phil. Read it, it really is. And the inside says "To hell with the cake...Bring on the girls!" which, if you know Uncle Phil, and chances are you do, is spot on.

I finally returned to the computer which was doing something spastic when I got back, and am glad to say there's nothing left to tempt me but a lone Twix wrapper (which I'll lick in private later).

Taken with three different cameras, two of them emergency point and shoots.

Kitty Litter

This Poopin' black cat candy dispenser is a hateful thing that yowls, howls, and meowls at every bump or whenever I throw it across the room. It sat in the back of the car and my bag long enough for its mrrow mrroww mahhrrr mrrow mrroww mahhrrr to work its way into my skull like an ice pick.

Another Galerie product (which has come to mean colorful candy with fruity overtones), the cat looks utterly stoned. They're calling the SweeTarty Smarties type litter "Candy Balls." The balls are the size they had in every princess wand and dime store toy before choking hazard was common parlance, so beware. It's for ages 3 and up, but I don't like the size of those balls.

The kitty litter balls are lively lovely shades of Halloween green, violet, and orange. They're tasty and give way between your teeth without a fight, which is good because they aren't for savoring or sucking.

The pooping mechanism never worked, but it was fun to rip the thing's head off and put the candy in the litter box/Trick Or Treat bag. It does beg the question, "What's up with all the pooping candy dispensers?"

Despite could do with out this one, or any one of the endless line of evacuating plastic characters, although I'm considering some poopin' turkeys to spice up the table this Thanksgiving.

Spooky Little Ghoul Like You

Lifesavers Spooky Shapes Gummies are more box than candy. And this box has unnecessarily sharp corners which is fitting for Halloween but not great for someone whose neuroses spike around the holidays. The graphic looks good against a spooky booger green, but you have to pull out the silver pouch to get to the candy and there's no easy way to leave it in the box while snacking. I did like how the slanted end fastened tightly when at rest.

Getting to the Candy
The gummy shapes aren't easy to distinguish and I had to guess the flavors before tracking them down. A few were better than I remembered Gummies 5 Flavors being, and the rest are the reason I don't like them.

• Cherry (my guess was Wild Cherry) - The cherry reminded me of the Wild Cherry hard candy roll, one of two Lifesavers I'd buy for myself. A close approximation to the hard candy.
• Green Apple (my guess was Green Apple) - It's a pretty objectionable taste and doesn't do the shapes any favors. It reminded me of the days when green Jujyfruits got tossed at the bad parts of  a bad movie. I guess that would be most of the movie, but the point is, the masses didn't care for mint Jujyfruits and the bitter Green Apple is ripe for the tossing.
• Watermelon  (my guess, Some  Kind of Citrus or Possibly Passion Fruit) - Any kind of watermelon candy is more hit and miss than usual, but it's also easier to make stand out. This gummy was pretty middle of the road, much like Lifesavers Gummies.
• Strawberry (What, One of These Is Supposed to be Stawberry?) - Where, which one, huh?
• Blackberry (I guessed Blueberry) - It could have been blueberry, blackberry, maybe boysenberry or mulberry, but an appetizing berry flavor that added variety and dash.

My favorite Lifesavers delivery system is the classic roll and unless they come up with a kickass sucker or a better candy cane, I don't see that changing. And as much as I appreciate the pineapple and orange from the updated (2003) 5 Flavor roll, I don't think you can beat Wild Cherry or Butter Rum. So I'm a traditionalist and despite knowing you need to make new products to make new money, don't see the sense in forcing a classic hard candy into a gummy.

Here's a new take on an old classic that's more fun with fewer calories.

Autumn Corn Nuggets

Corn Nuggets, yes I see it now. Cornholio jokes aside, Kimmie Candy Company's chocolaty Kettle Corn Nuggets are the unholy offspring of kettle corn and an M&M kind of coating. Then there's a Sugar Pops aftertaste to put an accent on the hearty corn snap.

There's a strong corn nut flavor running through each well proportioned piece. Their website has two more flavors, multicolored and—eek—Habanero. The Sweet & Hot Habanero are all red nuggets, more for the Flamin' Hot Cheetos crowd. The spicy cinnamon wasn't unbearably hot, but I thought it at odds with the sweet crunch and chocolate. I preferred the Autumn mix which let you taste the candy without the distracting heat.

First you taste the hard candy shell, the light chocolate, then an almost honeycomb crush followed by corn pieces which linger on the tongue. The candy is attractively colored and packaged in a rectangular tube which is easy to open and keeps the candy in one place, most likely your mouth.

There's a slight stale taste compensated by passable chocolate and sugary corn. Autumn Kettle Corn Nuggets are something different and fun to eat with a click-tight container you can work with one hand.

Butterfingers Pumpkin

Buying individual Halloween candy from the fancy shelves can be pricey, but don 't let Butterfingers pieces in milk chocolate Butterfingers Pumpkins tempt you.

There's more detail in the carved Jack-o'-lantern than usual and the curve of the pumpkin lends itself to being crammed with pieces of candy while resting flat on top of your beer bottle.

Unfortunately the pumpkin is more cheap too sweet chocolate than Butterfingers and ultimately fails because of it. There are a few small embedded chunks which only serve to make you want a Butterfingers candy bar.

You're better off with a 21 or 10 gram snack sized Butterfingers if you like the fun size. (The link to the official Butterfingers site gives you pop up windows over each Butterfingers product which I thought was cool.) The 34g Pumpkin left me with all of the guilt and none of the gratification.

Sugar Legs

I knew it was time to start reviewing, or at least eating, Halloween candy when I saw this giant spider guarding piles of Hershey's Kisses and Reese's Peanut Butter Cups at Copps.

Hot Tamales Cotton Candy

Hot Tamales Cinnamon Flavored Cotton Candy is a great idea that twirls one of my favorite childhood candies into spicy spun sugar. Despite an initial burst of something too strong, it's perfectly sweet and peppery.

The flavors perk up when the tufts melt in your mouth and turn into a melty crunch. I love how the familiar cinnamon sting follows the sugar residue.

The pink clouds of  spiced cinnamon are addictive with 37 sugars in half a bag if you're counting.  It's a pretty close Hot Tamales approximation and should please the red hot, red dollar, and atomic fire ball crowd.

Bonus: My almost twenty something cousin and Dish taste tester said "i wish I could like this multiple times" when I posted the photo on Facebook.

Chewable Liquid Taffy

If you like eating toothpaste or snuck baby aspirin as a kid, you probably still  won't like liquid Chewbies. The tube of orange glop may be a fun looking liquid sugar delivery system, but it puts the "desp" in desperate, the" err" in emerrgency candy.

Maybe it's a popular playground food, if you're pivy to this information please let me know. And speaking of privy...never mind. The only thing extreme about this Extreme Creations taffy  is that it would make an extremely sticky super adhesive.

It's more tacky than taffy, and hard to dispense without creating an insect frenzied mess. You wouldn't believe the state of the photo site, especially after I tried cleaning up with paper towels.

Milk Chocolate Coated Licorice Bites

That's right, chocolate coated black licorice. Before you say "blech" and switch channels, it's not what I expected and might not be what you think. Or maybe it is.

I grabbed these Walgreens Candy Classics in an adventurously munched out moment without knowing the esteemed Kookaburra makes a similar product.

One cautious bite into a juicy piece of chocolate revealed soft Aussie black licorice smothered in thick milk chocolate. The smell of the bag was deceiving, wafting solely of cocoa, and the smooth  chocolate made a happy match for the bite of black licorice. The two distinct tastes complimented each other in texture and flavor. There's a soft crunch to the milk chocolate and the anise flavor lingers on your tongue.

 Walgreen's Candy Classic Milk Choc Coated Licorice Bites, are more than bite-sized and more than the concoction of a munchies craving gone wrong. Intense and mild, sharp and smooth, soft black licorice and milk chocolate coating were an unexpected nosh.