Halloween is little more than a month away, so join me, as I once again risk my tooth enamel and gastrointestinal tract trying to recapture the joyfully spooky autumns of my youth. Click here for a much earlier installment in this series.
I found these things at Target, which is where I get about 50% of the candy I consume. The rest comes from Publix or CVS. These places understand adults with a diet that includes candy/crap. I typically can’t emerge from a Publix without a fresh bag of Wonka Randoms. Whoever designed those needs a fat promotion. The satisfaction of going to the scoop-and-bucket candy store at the mall- they nailed it.
Anyway, these were just fine. The red insides aren’t gooey, but they are a slightly firmer texture from the outside. Plus they’re around a dollar a bag, which raises their BOOdos score considerably. And it’s hard to beat tiny squishable heads, for sure.
This one’s for the ladies. I ate this, and I understand the mania. In answer to the question you’re undoubtedly asking: it tastes exactly like you hope it does. It tastes like a Hallmark card store smells in the first weeks of October. Please try to refrain from gorging yourselves to death on them.
The BOOdos score in this case is relative to your tolerance of “pumpkin spice”. No one’s fogged me out with an jar of spicy orange wax in a good while, so I’m ambivalent.
Now, if you want to talk seasonal obsessions, Hershey’s hooked me by the hypothalamus with this little number:
To put it in scientific terms, I am cuckoo for candy corn. Every September I get sick as a dog on a big bag of Brach’s Autumn Mix, first by eating all the Mellowcreme Pumpkins out of it, and then I hardly touch candy corn for another 12 months. I couldn’t even tell you what the hell candy corn is supposed to taste like, and yet I am powerless to its lure. You know what candy corn tastes like? Like I imagined manna from heaven would taste, back in Sunday school.
(Actually I take that back. That honor goes to divinity.)
Hershey’s has outdone themselves. It doesn’t taste like candy corn, it tastes better. The “candy bits” are soft and don’t get stuck in your tooth-holes. Maybe it’s the sugar talking, but I think this is the best candy bar Hershey’s has made. I know that sounds heretical, so please don’t nail me up on a chocolate crucifix. (Unless the nails are Pocky and we get to eat the cross.)
I’ll put it this way; I got sick after I just started folding them up and cramming them into my mouth like petit-fours. It’s the “candy corn flavor”, without the gritty, niblet texture of the real thing. If you love the taste of candy corn but hate gnawing on it, this might be manna from heaven for you. I ate so many that I had to take a Hershey’s hiatus before my kidneys quit.
Despite the packaging that’s more seasonal than spooky, the Candy Corn Bar gets high BOOdos and is recommended.
Oh how I love Iddy Biddy Pumpkins. This is like medical-grade chocolate- you can take as many as needed, like pills. If pills were perfect spheres of top-shelf chocolate, that is.
I cannot verify whether they look like the pumpkins pictured, or if there are actually sixty in the bag. I almost literally inhale these effing things. I tear off a corner and whiff ’em out like the ugly alien in Pod People. Admittedly I’ll take a Whitman’s Sampler over Russell Stover’s equivalent, but here, they’ve really got something. Also whenever I see them, the price is right.
Do I even need to point out that these get highest BOOdos? That package art is Halloween incarnate.
This one isn’t Halloween-related, but I’m including it in the spirit of the season and to fill space.
Myself and sound engineer Joey Pikkels share a common experience: as kids, we both drank pickle juice on a dare, and liked it. Apparently we weren’t alone, because a company called Bob’s has made it so you can safely drink it, or eat it frozen in popsicle form.
If you’ve ever entertained the idea of drinking out of the pickle jar, you must try these. The negatives of the experience are removed; there’s no harshness on the back of the throat, no funky mouth afterward. Frozen, it’s like eating a very cold pickle without having to chew. And despite its deliciousness, I made a very sad face when I first tasted it, which although hysterical was not captured in a photo. It was like my tongue screamed “YAY!!!”, and my face cried “noooooooooooooo”.
I can think of lots of spooky applications for this stuff. You could pretend they’re test tubes and be a mad scientist. There’s a heady electrolyte buzz after, too, which is useful for numerous reasons. But if you’re allergic to or don’t like pickles, you’ll have to get your BOOdos elsewhere.
More to come…