Caramel Apple Sugar Babies

Caramel Apple Sugar Babies look like mishapen lima beans and taste like sour bits of nasty. As often is the case, they're better sucked than bitten.
They look less gross than a lot of things you could pull out of your mouth, and although not good enough for couch potato candy, they'll do as emergency computer food. (Although the computer hasn't touched them and they've been sitting here for weeks.)

The stores are filled with the sweet, tart smell of green apple this time of year, but I'd easily pass these babies by for that old filling puller, the Caramel Apple Pop.
Caramel Apple Sugar Babies would probably make a good Halloween candy mix, but use sparingly as they have just enough weight and sour power to spit a fair distance.

Mummified Fingers

These suckers are so foul I'd like to give them the finger. I'm eating a melted Russell Stover Marshmallow Pumpkin to get the funky taste out my mouth. All I can say is, "Mmmph plrrf."
Excuse me. Target brand Mummified Fingers Candy Suckers, Calories 120, Sugars 15g, are almost tasteless, except for the taste of plastic.
These crummy mummies aren't so very bad until you bite into one. And then, the horror, the horror.
I like a sucker you can bite down into with a total disregard for cosmetic dentistry. I also like the "NOT A TOY!" reminder on the back of the package. Good thing, because they're made in China.
They might break your teeth, and taste like the packaging they come in, but they look cool and could be the perfect party favor for the right crowd.

Rolling In Sugar

One of my favorite things to ogle is pastry at the Rolling Pin. (I've also cranked up the AC in 85° weather to feast on their mushroom beef barley and pumpkin curry soups.)
Sometimes the pastry ogles back. Their chocolate croissants are sweet and tender and quite flirtatious with a giddy chocolate center. Many of their baked goods are art. ("This is art. This is soup.")
Their pink cream puff swans are so attractive (I'd guess strawberry, but with them you never know) that I'd feel guilty eating one. The watermelon and s'more cookies, a sassy pair of picnic foods, leered back at me from behind the glass, so in the white bag they went.

Sugary and thick, you have to work at finishing a watermelon cookie. Great dunked, nibbled, waved under someone's nose, or just to celebrate getting your dental insurance back, this cookie can be refrigerated and saved for days with minimal taste loss.
The s'more, well that's pure evil in a baked good. It's huge, like most of their cookies, but has marshmallows sandwiched in between not one, but two thick chocolate chunk cookies. There's a lake of chocolate coating on top.


It's a crumbly one, the s'more, and about as messy as a graham cracker. You can nibble it from the ends for days. Well, maybe two, three days tops. I'm not crazy about barely browned pie crusts or cookies, especially in something this doubly thick, but like the Rolling Pin's white chocolate raspberry (exquisite) and red velvet cookies, generous chunks-o-chocolate make you smile. And giggle. And dance around your apartment until you crash, vowing to eat nothing but fruit and raw vegetables for a week. We'll see how that goes.

Wine Gums

I found these gummies teetering between the PMS mints and the gummy bandages, not too far from the Hot Flash mints and Vertigo cookies.
Quelle surprise, there's a whole wine gum culture out there. Maynards and Pascall—what doesn't Cadbury Schweppes own—seem to be what people crave most.
Here's an interesting tidbit from the English Tea Store:
"Maynard's Wine Gums are no longer permitted to be imported into the USA because of the food colorings used in the candy. Norfolk Manor Wine Gums are made in the UK according to US specifications on food colorings."
First they steal Madonna (ta), then they Dixie Chick the Dixie Chicks, and now, tainted wine gums. What next, trick us into pretending we like soccer? We have a what now?

So, Posh Becks, Pop Specs, flop sweat, we came across a few boxes of Norfolk Manor Wine Gums at Gem City. They're oval shaped wine flavors you can pretend are flasks or bottles. Fun for the kids. I found wine gums good for watching SOAPnet in the wee hours after you've worn out your welcome on the upper end of State Street. A little weird and kind of crusty when you expect chewy, and fruity when they should be chock full of illegal dye goodness, but I liked them. Bit off the ends like Nik-L-Nips and pretended I was drinking cheap chardonnay.
They won't replace Dots or Jujyfruits, but they're warmly addictive and go well with chocolate cheese.

Clem's Mailbag: Boo Royals

Dear Readers,
A few of you curious kitties wanted the final word on the Boo "royal" puddles. Here is what that dear man Ralph Pierce wrote:
"Yes you are correct, originally the company wanted to show off it's great caramel and they decided to deposit the caramel on the nuts and allow the buyer to see the great nuts topped with the caramel so the idea was to 'crown' the candy with the chocolate rather than enrobe the whole piece of candy. Thus you have a 'royal' piece of candy of nuts, our own great caramel and topped with delicious milk chocolate."
Please enjoy this short video.

Boo Candy Puddles

I'm biting into a Caramel Pecan Puddle from the Baraboo Candy Company right now. It's got that just off the cooling rack, gooey fresh taste. The amount and texture of the chocolate is perfect, the pecans are fresh and crisp and nutty; the caramel is expertly layered, falling in thin strands with every greedy bite.
It's not a bad way to sweeten the sting of a visit to Ho Chunk.
I can only imagine how its cousin, the Caramel Cashew Puddle, melts in your mouth, but the other nut puddles ended up in someone else's refrigerator before they got a chance to melt in the clutches of the Candy Dish. Boo Caramel Puddles also come in the stunning Caramel Macadamia. The puddles that caught my eye are called "Royals," possibly because of their exposed crown of nuts and caramel. Or maybe because they're a kind of turtle candy royalty.


"Instead of fully enrobed, it's got the chocolate on the top and the bottom, but yet you see the caramels and the nuts, more so the Macadamia and the cashew are that way," says Ralph Pierce (see The Badger Claw Revisited).
Don't be ashamed to brush up the puddle scraps with your fingers—I know you want to.
For bite-size turtle candy, there are peanut covered Green Bay Puddles which come in a 3 oz. green and yellow box with the slogan "Tackle One Today!" They're good for prepackaged novelty candy, and found in the same places you'll find Badger Claws or Udderfingers. (Around here that's Brennan's and the Kelly's Mobil.)
But if you get a chance, stop by the source and get a load of what's in those barrels. You'll find the entire Cow Pie collection along the wall, and jars and barrels of bars, meltaways, peanut brittle, hard candy, and the mandatory salt water taffy and homemade fudge, all a mere cow chip toss away from the casino.
The Baraboo Candy Sign photo may or may not have been taken by my cousin, Nanci, who grabbed my camera then waltzed off toward the highway

Milka, It's Not Just For Breakfast Anymore

Wait, I think that's orange juice and I refuse to say "Got Milka?" No matter, have a candy bar instead.
Milka chocolate is as seductively smooth as Barry White on Whacking Day, and Milka's Strawberry Yoghurt bar is a fine balance of tangy creme filling (with dried strawberries) and thin layers of Swiss chocolate.
This chocolate is fun and delicious, not all serious and conceited like that *stuck up dark chocolate (please write me if you've ever spent $250.00 on a truffle). Maybe Milka is the people's chocolate, it even has a purple cow on the wrapper. (Oddly enough I think I saw a purple cow sometime in the late eighties near Prairie du Chien.)
Milka chocolate, created in Switzerland in 1901 (Wikepedia fact of the month), is now made in Germany and other European countries. This particular 3.52 oz Strawberry Yoghurt bar was made in Germany and eaten straight out of the fridge right here in Southern Wisconsin.
Kraft calls Milka their number one European brand, surpassing the mighty Toblerone.
*Knipschildt's La Madeline au Truffe, for those of you too lazy to follow the link, costs $250.00 for one stinkin' chocolate mushroom. Coincidentally, it looks like something we found along the river in Praire du Chien.
The Knipschildt's ("nipshits?") website says it's a rare French Perigord truffle in 70% Valrhona dark chocolate, heavy cream, sugar, truffle oil and vanilla for the ganache, rolled in cocoa powder on a bed of sugar pearls in a silver box.
Pass the Milka.

Boo Fudge

Boo, fudge you say?
Why drive through the summer insanity of the Dells to get your fudge fix when this brilliant Cranberry Nut fudge is waiting for you in historic downtown Baraboo. The ripened walnuts and rave of cranberries make this fudge a perky hunk of heaven. Cranberry Nut fudge rivals the Pierce's Door County Cherry Walnut.
That's Joan and Ralph Pierce, owners of Gem City Candy. Gem City, it's not just the place next to Fan Faire Costume & Dance.
One of the many things I love about fudge is how you can sneak slices with no one the wiser. Not that I'm systematically bleeding dry two bags of candy meant for someone's birthday, but I suggest a paring knife for this type of pilfering rather than the plastic knife provided with each colorful Gem City fudge box.
Recommended by Joan Pierce, we dived into the Mud.



Devil's Lake Mud is a mind altering combination of chocolate and vanilla fudge, pecans, and caramel. It's what fudge should taste like. Smooth enough to cut with a plastic knife (if you don't care about leaving marks), and more than enough reason to motor west.
So Elizabeth, I can't think of any place in Madison to get good fudge, but who cares when the alternative is a trip to Boo.

The Badger Claw Revisited

I sent the girls on a short errand to Baraboo yesterday before all this heat. They lollygagged to no end, but came back with the goods and the answer to my Badger Claw question. It is made by the Baraboo Candy Company. Mystery solved.


That sweet man Ralph Pierce answered our Cow Pie questions even though he does double duty between Boo Candy and his own store, Gem City Candy (along with his lovely wife Joan). He also fished out this pretty new Badger Claw box which will soon be available in the Madison area.
The Baraboo Town Square, where you'll find Gem City, is the loveliest of places, and of course the Pierces make their own fudge. (I believe they'll throw you in the pokey for not making your own fudge west of Sauk City.)
Apologies to BufaloGirl for the lack of posts. We were up a lazy river as often happens in the summer months. And thank you to Mar der hey for including us on her blog roll.
Please enjoy these scrolling lyrics.

MILLS BROTHERS lyrics

Cocoa Deli Popsicles

According to the Cocoa Deli website these killer lollies have been out and about in the UK for almost two years. I hadn't seen them until last month when I rescued one of each flavor from a Middleton Walgreens.


"What, Belgian chocolate truffles shaped like popsicles," I asked no one in particular.
Cocoa bean pieces in a lush chocolate truffle give the Milk Chocolate Fudge Popsicle a snap. Cocoa lingers warmly on your tongue long after you've sucked the final remnants of chocolate through small holes at the top of the plastic stick. Although filled with the same amount of truffle as the white chocolate raspberry, the wall of Belgian milk chocolate on this popsicle doesn't overwhelm.
The Caramel Crunch Truffle tastes even richer when eaten at room temperature. The whole thing was so sweet I had to drink a glass of water in order to forge on. I found the butter toffee and cocoa cookie pieces overkill—like lighting a shot of 151 on fire. The caramel truffle is flanked by milk chocolate and lacks the savory cocoa afterburn of the milk chocolate fudge flavor.


The White Chocolate Raspberry Truffle was the only popsicle that melted at room temperature. The pink berry filling burst through a hole of melted chocolate, making it easier to lick off and separate from the nasty white chocolate. No reflection on Cocoa Deli, I'm just not a fan. The ambrosial raspberry truffle is made with dried and concentrated raspberries.
In Sum
The popsicle presentation might be whimsical enough for kids, but the taste may be too rich for some adults. Leave it to the Brits to make the 1.6 oz Belgian Chocolate Caramel Crunch Truffle Popsicle. It took three sittings and a Big Gulp full of water to knock off the Caramel Crunch.
Cocoa Deli Chocolate Truffle Popsicles, like the Big Gulp, should not be taken lightly.

Peanut Chews

I found these affable Chew-ets at the Stop-N-Go between Vitense and the Ice Arena. I was on my way to or from a Little League game when these huge chew hunks begged me to buy them. Baseball, I love it. I wish I was at a game right now. Yes, at 3:02 am I wish I was at a baseball game.
Go Sox.
So Peanut Chews, they come in king size 3.3 oz bars and are sectioned off in generous pieces kind of like a Bit-O-Honey.
They're "chocolate" covered "caramel" bites which reminded me of Snickers with a taste I couldn't identify because I was too lazy to turn over the wrapper and read the word "molasses." Then I found Cybele's far superior review (and photos) over at Candy Blog. She's done a ridiculously thorough job of reviewing Peanut Chews, and if I were you I'd just read hers.
What, still here, ok PCs are only a buck and also come in the Original Peanut Chew (dark "chocolate" in a red wrapper) which I gave to my sugar junky mother (yes, it runs in the family) along with this milk chocolate one.
The old lady loved them both (no surprise there). I thought the Milk Chocolately chew I ate not quite as addictive as a Snickers, but savory, unique, and lousy with peanuts. The larger than bite sized pieces made me feel less guilty about quickly chewing through the 230 calories. Twisted Pretzel Logic, no?
Mmmm, twisted pretzels.

Magic Box

Two weeks after my birthday, I'm flanked by candy wrappers and a bottomless gift box from the Old Time Candy Company. After eating my way through a layer of Jujubes, Kits, Mallow Cups, and candy bars I avoided as a kid, I feel a skooch unhealthy. Which is why I'm having a Charleston Chew for brunch. A little pick-me-up you understand. (The other day I had a Sky Bar with a side of Sixlets for breakfast—yeah, the diet's coming along fine.)
The magic 60s assortment box has taken on Lost-like overtones—if all there were to eat on the island were Zagnuts and Whoppers.
As with most nostalgic candy, memories shove themselves into your brain with each chomp. Like that time Terry Vilbrandt got an "A" on her science project just for putting some Red Hots in a test tube. C'mon! Or that pink Snaps tasted like soap and the white ones reminded us of Winkie's cage (something to do with living so close to the zoo). And why did we keep eating Caramel Creme Bulls-Eyes when they smacked of art paste?
MIA
The elusive Delfa Roll, Razzles, Lik-M-Aid, and both bubble gum and chocolate cigarettes.
(But the Chuckles, Pumpkin Seeds, Charms (both squared and suckered), were there. So were Necco Slap Stix, Black Jack Taffy, Walnettos, real candy cigs, and a cinnamon Hot Dog! two pack.)
Honorable Mention
•Brach's jelly nougat
•Neopolitan Coconut Sundae
•Chiclets 2-pack
•BB Bats
•Sugar Daddy (not too soft, not too brittle)
•Honeycombed Peanuts
•Bob's Sweet Stripes
•Butter Rum Life Savers
•Atkinson's Peanut Butter Bars and Chick-O-Sticks
Oy, I ate too much. Where is that fizzies packet, the one that looks like a condom?

Jones Soda Carbonated Candy

Jones Soda added three new carbonated candy flavors this year—M.F. Grape, Orange & Cream, and Cream Soda. They taste like fizzy SweeTarts (or SweeTart Fizzies), and come in cool flip top tins that make you want to empty out the contents and put more stuff in. There are short customer non sequiturs written under each lid ("you are a skilled metal worker," --Jamie in Satsuma).
The Jones Soda website calls the lively little candies "flavor boosters," suggesting they be dropped in Jones sodas. I tried this with a warm Diet 7Up over ice, and don't recommend it. (It tasted like a piece of Orange & Cream candy dropped out of someone's mouth and into my drink.)
Let me add that along with tempting pure cane soda choices such as Crushed Melon, Jones is known for some disturbing holiday flavors: Broccoli Casserole, Turkey & Gravy, Corn on the Cob, and Wild Herb Stuffing, et—blehhh—cetera.
The Jones candies are as "tongue-tingling," as the tin claims, but I'd forget the whole flavor booster thing.
Not like the Pop Rocks I expected, they are instead crunchy and effervescent, with a quick pucker, and sweet aftertaste. They don't taste much like soda, but are almost as fun as Fizzies, without the fear of something bubbling on your tongue until it burns straight through.
The Orange & Cream is oddly softer than the other two, and reminds me of Children's Bayer Aspirin. Of the three, I'd choose M.F. Grape, if for no other reason than to wonder aloud what the M.F. stands for.

Sport Beans

If you believe what you read on the Web, bikers, runners, and skaters talk about Jelly Belly Sport Beans as if they're the second coming of Gatorade. The beans are meant as convenient energy boosters rather than candy, even though they were introduced at the 2005 All Candy Expo.
According to an article on Red Orbit, flavor is their "top priority." The Lemon Lime flavor we tried can best be described as "eh." They also come in Fruit Punch, Berry Blue, and Orange.
Maybe you have to be a marathon althlete to appreciate these bland beans, but guest reviewer and scorchin' little leaguer, Bug, wasn't impressed.
In all fairness, we only tried the Lemon Lime, but no beanstalk here. You'd think kids would be a natural market for the makers of Bernie Bott's.

Chocolate Cheese

Continuing with our series on health food...you know it, you've seen it next to the Black Truffle Sheep's Milk, yes boys and girls, it's chocolate cheese.
My first encounter with this touch of evil was at an Arena cheese shop on the way to the American Players Theatre. What better way to get cultured than with a hunk of chocolate cheese? Get it, cultured?
Chocolate cheese is in reality chocolate fudge made with cheese: cream cheese, cheddar, white stilon. The slab in question was made with cheddar.
Brennan's Chocolate Cheese Fudge is savory with an unmistakable bite of cheddar. It's not too sweet, and verges on a pleasant tartness nestled in creamy cocoa. I'd prefer larger pieces of walnut.
Brennan's always has incredible cheeses and whatnot awaiting the indulgent sampler. There aren't many places that will intice you with Maple Syrup Cheddar and cranberry mustard.
Have some chocolate cheese for breakfast, dunk a hunk in your midday mochachino. It also comes in loaf and brick form. The kind of brick you'd wrap in your cholesterol results and throw through your doctor's window.
Also of Interest: The post on Slashfood about chocolate cheese product slices.

Bo Ryan's Express

This so-called iced cream not only recalls a great basketball season, but is surprisingly subtle and expressive. At least for a tub of ice cream. What is it expressing? Ice cream so fresh you can hear it graze.
Simple Ingredients
The creamy vanilla ice cream is loaded with large chocolate flakes and sports a gentle raspberry swirl. You can hop on Bo's Express without staining your shirt, unless you move around like a an actual badger, in which case watch out for errant chocolate chips.
A Little History
Babcock Hall has been open for 57 years. It's named after Dr. Stephen M. Babcock, who started the country's first dairy school.
Can I get an A-Moo?
He's also known for inventing the first butterfat test—which meant no more waiting for cream to rise to the top to guess butterfat content.
Thank you, Dr. Steve!
Let's face it, Babcock could come out with Blue-Green Badger Nut Algae Bloom, and it would still taste better than anything you'd find in a store, drive-thru, drive-in, or drive-by.

April Is The Mooest Month

What a great day. It started out in traffic court, a place I find wildly entertaining, and ended up at the Babcock Dairy Store.
If you're able to hoof it on down there, check out all the bass and crappie in the stream by the Nat, you won't believe it. It's like Oktoberfest for shiny, shiny fish.
And remember, student employees may not get your order right, but they give you plenty of the wrong thing. Such as:

•Chocolate Caramel Crackle
Rich chocolate ice cream with what tastes like Nestlé Crunch and caramel
•Bo's Express
I picked up a quart and will be reviewing it soon. I thought the label said something about coconut, but the website says raspberry swirl and chocolate flakes. Can't wait to find out what it is
•Irish Cream
Just like it sounds
•Maple Nut
Maple ice cream with cashews
•Butterscoth Marble
Yum
•Caramel Creek
Vanilla ice cream and caramel—this is what I ordered when given a leaning tower of Chocolate Caramel Crackle instead
•Chocolate Turtle
Chocolate ice cream, caramel, chocolate chips, and pecans
•Badger Blast
More chocolate ice cream with a vein of fudge and chocolate flakes. They are really pushing the chocolate
•Berries Jubilee
Strawberry and raspberry ice cream
And all the rest.
Some guy wanted Berry Alvarez and couldn't figure out it was the Berries Jubilee without the blueberries. Or the football season.

Sugar Buzz: Bunny Apples

Yeah, I know Easter was a week ago, but when I saw these Bunny Apples on flickr, I had to share.
Elizabeth, aka flickrer rocketcandy, says the apples were coated with white frosting and marshmallows. Note the caramel topping with dark chocolate bunnies on the right.
I think they were made somewhere on Robson Street in Vancouver.

Easter Apple photo by rocketcandy

Shrinkage

Ignore my sister's disapproving looks and buy your discounted Easter candy before it's all gone. Gone like the green grass of spring. Gone like José Reyes, gone like Juan Pierre.
But before you load up on Cadbury Creme Eggs, I refer you to Chocoblogger Dom Ramsey, bats right, throws right.
Chocoblog came across the shrinking Cadbury Creme Egg story on The Consumerist, and it isn't pretty.
Apparently much smaller Cadbury Eggs had been hatching under the radar until The Office's Ryan the Intern uncovered the truth.
B.J. Novak, who stocks up on the seasonal Cadbury eggs every year, found one stashed away to compare to this year's egg, and voilà, irrefutable proof of chocolate covered shrinkage. On Conan no less.
What happened to the gluttony of supersizing?

Dubble Bubbles

Gum. It's a candy, it's a toy, and unless you're at a ballgame, it's annoying.
Gumballs, like Big Barf candy, also make great filler. And April means you can choose fancy schmancy Easter gum, or simply revisit the classics.
OUR TEST: Bug, Vincenzo, and I inspected a pound of Grape and Blue Raspberry Dubble Bubble for flavor, texture, color, and blowing power.
OUR FINDINGS: I didn't like the fake grape taste which seemed to lose all flavor more quickly than the blue raspberry. I expected something with a sour grape kick, and was clearly thinking of another gum.
The boys were a little put off by the bumpy texture of the blue raspberry, but seemed to enjoy the rich blue color more than the violet.
Mixing colors created the pinkish blue bubble you see to your right. It took about five pieces to get a bubble this size.
CONCLUSION: Nothing loses flavor more quickly than Dubble Bubble. The grape practically lost it's taste before it was chewed. The blue raspberry retained flavor longer, but impeded the bubble blowing process.
In all fairness, we thought the fake grape blew a decent, initially smoother bubble, but found the blue raspberry more alluring.