Well, At Least Get Some Candy for Yourself

I have very little patience for long lines. When in line at the drug store, getting frustrated with slow cashiers and contemplating stealing just to get the hell out of there, the only thing that can calm me down is the spread of candy displayed below the registers. Laid out before me is nearly every candy ever made; all wrapped, bright, shiny and new, just waiting for me to make my choice. As an intelligent person, I tend to focus on the chocolate and ignore the fruit chews, the gum, and the breath mints.

While I’m tempted by nearly all the chocolate bars, I try to limit myself to buying only one; I like the challenge and the added health benefits. Hershey’s with Almonds is definitely one of my favorites… but then again, plain Hershey’s is slightly bigger. Do I go for ingredient variety or quantity? Or something else entirely?

Kit Kats are delicious, but their structure is a huge flaw. Due to the candy bar’s built in perforation, people seem to have no qualms asking the owner to give up at least ¼ of their total candy. The horrible idea of sharing is even in Kit Kat’s jingle. Though catchy and fun, “Break me off a piece of that Kit Kat bar” is responsible for a fairly large sales drop among candy loves. Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups and Twix have the same problem. Get either of those and I may end up losing half my candy to a “friend.”

Snickers is one of my top picks. Talk about variety of ingredients! It’s got what, like 7 things in packed there? And thanks to their ad campaign, “Hungry? Grab a Snickers,” I can easily justify eating Snickers for breakfast.

M&Ms are a fine choice, but I tend to go through them a bit fast. It’s because of their packaging. With the tear-open-and-pour shape of the bag, eating M&Ms by the handful is inviting. But even more inviting is holding the bag straight up to your mouth and throwing your head back. Then, after just a couple swigs, you’re out of candy.

Charleston Chew is one candy bar that does not tempt me. I chose it once in childhood because it was the biggest. But instead of a never ending chocolate bar, I found myself with something that had only an incredibly thin outer layer of chocolate, and then a thick, tough inner center of some sort of sickly sweet hurt-your-teeth-sticky white filling. It was thrown out long before I reached the end.

Though I did disparage fruity chewy candy earlier, I’d like to take a moment to discuss jellybeans. While the hot button topic in the field is certainly how gross licorice jellybeans are, I want to focus on the positive. Jelly Belly brand jelly beans are the most remarkable candy. The amount of genius it takes to make a jellybean taste exactly like pear, strawberry cheesecake, or toasted marshmallows is unprecedented and truly impressive.

For example, plenty of hard candy companies claim to have a grape jelly flavor, but time after time their promise falls short and their product just taste like plain old grape hard candy. But the Grape Jelly Jelly Belly is true to its name! As I chew the bean, I can literally feel the cold lumps of jelly, the flavor is so authentic— it doesn’t taste like grape hard candy, it tastes like I’m licking the knife after making a jelly and jelly sandwich.

The inventors and scientists at Jelly Belly are certainly to be revered. However, one must question their career choice. With their cognitive prowess and ability, they should be doing something like curing cancer, fighting global warming, or at the very least, making medicine not taste bad. (Not to discredit the inventors over at Advil who came up with the sugar coated tablets.) So, while I would like to give Jelly Belly my unwavering support and commendation, my social conscious is too strong to let them avoid at least some reproach.

Ah, Candy. By far my favorite meal, snack, and reward. Let’s be honest, though it comes in many shapes, flavors, consistencies, and packages, all candy has its merits. (*Except Charleston Chew) So no matter what anyone chooses*, it’s going to be great.