Tag Archives: candy corn

Brach’s Carrot Cake Candy Corn

Brach's Carrot Cake Candy Corn PackageI’m always for new holiday-related junk food. Even if it’s somewhat uninspired or just plain gross, I’m willing to try it, especially since odds are likely I’ll never see it again, or at least until next year.

There have been items I’ve really enjoyed, like Mission Sugar & Cinnamon Tortilla Chips and Scary Blackberry Ghoul-Aid. There have also been holiday items that made my mouth sad, like White Chocolate Peppermint Pringles and Disney Candied Apple Candy Corn.

Speaking of candy corn (talk about a suave segue), here we have yet another candy corn that isn’t supposed to taste like candy corn! Isn’t that exciting?

The answer is no. Remember how I said I’m all for new holiday food in the first sentence of this review? I’d like to directly contradict that by saying that I’m really tired of candy corn. Hell, I was tired of candy corn when it was just candy corn-flavored candy corn. Now things are really getting out of hand.

So now, here we are, with Brach’s Carrot Cake Candy Corn. Brach’s, the original candy corn offender.

If you’re going to try to get me to eat carrot cake candy corn, you’re going to have to do better with your packaging than a slice of cake and a vaguely Easter-looking basket with no handle. Seriously, no handle? I mean, I want an Easter bunny and some cute looking little chicks, but at this point I would settle for a tisket with a tasket. Sigh.

Brach's Carrot Cake Candy Corn

Well, at least the corns are kinda cute. The colors are vibrant and appropriately carrot-y.

When I first opened the bag and took a whiff, all I got was that weird plastic-like smell of regular candy corns. My brain went, “Oh no…oh wait, this could actually have gone much worse, so be thankful, nose.” And when I first popped a handful – looking back, throwing back this amount was a brazen move that could have gone terribly wrong – all I could taste was candy corn.

However, that flavor gradually gave way to distinctive but subtle notes of cinnamon and nutmeg that actually gave the corns a reasonable facsimile of the taste of carrot cake.

There was no hint of cream cheese frosting, which pairs so well with a nice, moist slice of carrot cake, but maybe that’s asking too much. Also, that initial taste of regular candy corn never quite went away, which, unfortunately, went a long way in removing the suspension of disbelief that you weren’t actually eating what is, essentially, a Halloween candy.

As I expected, the texture was also exactly the same as regular candy corn, which is neither a positive nor a negative; it just is, because these are candy corns.

I wouldn’t call Brach’s Carrot Cake Candy Corn offensive, but I can’t say I was blown away, either. They weren’t gross, but they weren’t great, either. If I found a small bag of them buried in the plastic grass of my Easter basket (with handle) amongst the Reese’s Eggs and giant chocolate bunny, I wouldn’t throw them in my parents’ face. I mean, it’s not like they’re black licorice jelly beans. I’m not a monster.

However, after one handful, I was already over carrot cake-flavored candy corns, so the other 11 ounces in this giant bag will probably sit in my cupboard for about six months before I need the room for whatever the next crazy flavor of Oreos is.

Brach’s Carrot Cake Candy Corn

  • Score: 2.5 out of 5 tiskets without taskets
  • Price: $2.29 (on sale; regular price $2.69)
  • Size: 12 oz. bag
  • Purchased at: Safeway #1717
  • Nutritional Quirks: It’s candy corn that tastes sort of like carrot cake; what more do you want?

Disney Deliciously Wicked Gourmet Candy Corn Candied Apple and Blackberry Magic

I’ve mentioned before that my mom sends me care packs full of goodies for pretty much every holiday. Yes, I am a grown woman, but that doesn’t make it any less awesome.

She always seems to have a little surprise up her sleeve, too. Nestled amongst every candy bar you could name morphed into a pumpkin, these lovely gems arrived: Disney Deliciously Wicked Gourmet Candy Corn.

I know, I know. Candy corn. Candy corn that claims to be gourmet, at that. But this ain’t no pound of Brach’s, we’re talking about here.

There are six products in Disney’s Deliciously Wicked line of candy. First off, “Deliciously Wicked” is a wonderful moniker. Second, each of the six gets its own evil Disney villainess to represent it.

I only have two, but they’re all so lovely that I felt they all deserved mention. Here are the other four: The Evil Queen’s Sour Green Apple Saltwater Taffy, Maleficent’s Fiery Cinnamon Saltwater Taffy, The Evil Queen’s Pumpkin Spice Candy Corn and Cruella de Vil’s Red Velvet Cake Saltwater Taffy. Check out this site to view them all in their lovely glory. Always glad to see Maleficent getting some love.

While I would have liked to sample some taffy, I’m happy with what I’ve got. My mom must have psychically known I was tired of seeing pumpkin-spice flavored candy, so she picked the other two candy corn flavors. Let’s check out what we’ve got, here!

Disney Deliciously Wicked Gourmet Candy Corn Candied Apple

Say what you will about Disney; for all their faults, they know how to make some motherfucking product packaging. Glossy box, beautiful fonts, cohesive design, and no lack of detail. It’s little touches like this on the back of the box that make such packaging so complete:

In case you’re just now breaking Amish or whatever, that really pissed-off lady on the front of the box is the Queen of Hearts from Alice in Wonderland.

As you can see, she’s quite the angry bitch. I won’t give you the whole background on her, assuming you have Google on your Internet, but they’ve captured the essence of her quite aptly on the package. You think you’ve got a sadistic boss? Feel lucky you didn’t accidentally plant some white roses instead of red ones. The Queen of hearts is very fond of decapitation, and I imagine this package captures her mid-screaming, “Off with their heads!”

What do caramel apples have to do with the Queen of Hearts? At first, I couldn’t really find a connection, but then I realized, hey – caramel apples – apples impaled on sticks – decapitated heads on sticks!

I have no idea if this was Disney’s intention, but I’m going with it.

Even less intentionally, quite a few of my Candied Apple Candy Corns seemed to be missing their heads, but that happens when you’ve got a candy with a thick base and a pointy end. The color scheme of the candy itself was very apt and self-explanatory; brown caramel base, bright red apple middle, and the classic candy corn white tip.

Despite their cuteness, my first whiff was not encouraging. The Queen’s Corn smelled like a caramel apple candy that had been stored inside a plastic ALF mask since 1987. One that a kid was so enamored with that he wore it and refused to take it off for two weeks before Halloween actually arrived. Not an encouraging introduction.

The taste was unfortunately much the same. Of course, most of candy corn is sugar, so that was definitely present, but the caramel and apple flavors were both off and overwhelmed by that plasticky taste. Out of what little I could taste of the intended flavors, the caramel was “eh”, but the apple was straight-up chemical-tasting and fake.

I demand the head of whomever created the flavors of Caramel Apple Candy Corn!

Disney Deliciously Wicked Gourmet Candy Corn Blackberry Magic

Another lovely rendering of a classic Disney villain. Quick look at her symbol on the back of the box:

“Aw, it’s an adorably rendered international symbol of poison, positioned right above the opening of a box full of candy! Nothing wrong with that!”

If you just escaped from a commune of Luddites, Disney helpfully lets you know that this is Ursula from The Little Mermaid.

The Little Mermaid is the very first movie I can remember seeing in a movie theatre. I was rather young, but I don’t recall being very scared of Ursula, despite her large and intimidating presence. Perhaps that’s because, in addition to being a scary mersoul-trapper, she was also sassy. It’s hard to be afraid of a fat lady with tentacles instead of legs when she’s singing catchy songs.

I’m pretty sure she’s also the only being with tentacles besides Cthulhu that doesn’t immediately make me think of horrible hentai. That’s a serious compliment, Ursula.

Again, lovely design on the box, and the portrayal of Ursula shows that she is both evil and totally embracing her obese sauciness. Girl knows she owns it.

These are “Blackberry Magic” candy corns, which is a pretty solid connection, since Ursula does employ what you could call black magic, and it gives Disney the perfect excuse to make a lovely Ursula-color-themed candy corn.

My camera apparently hates the color indigo, but this is a fair enough approximation of the color scheme. They couldn’t be more perfectly tailored for Ursula: deep purple base for her tentacles, a lighter indigo for her torso, and even the white tip fits with her hair! I feel like I should display them in my living room rather than eat them.

Sadly, my nose also agrees with this first impression. Blackberry Magicorns smelled like a Glade “approximation of berry” air freshener that had just been installed in a newly sanitized bathroom.

Ursula’s Corns fared a little better than the Queen’s upon tasting, but not by much. There actually was something of an approximation of blackberry flavor in there, but once again, it had to play second fiddle to the inescapable taste of chemical plastic. Ursula needs to go back to her cauldron and rethink this particular dark magic spell.

Disney is one of the masters of creating polished packaging, and these Deliciously Wicked Candy Corns are no exception. I wish I’d never opened the boxes and instead just set them on a shelf to admire the artistry and the fun candy corn colors.

Unfortunately, my job is to actually taste things, and that’s where these candy corns go wrong. The Queen of Hearts’s Candied Apple tasted like plastic upon bad caramel upon chemical apple, and Ursula’s Blackberry Magic tasted like plastic upon some approximation of blackberry that came somewhat close to succeeding, but failed again in the chemical territory.

As I’ve said before, I give big points to Halloween packaging, which I definitely have to factor into my score. Sadly, the R&D taste development department didn’t have the same luck as the marketing department, and therein lies the downfall of these candy corns, which taste anything but gourmet.

At least for a few days, the Queen and Ursula will be placed where they rightfully should be: on my shelf of Halloween decorations that are inedible.

Disney Deliciously Wicked Gourmet Candy Corn Candied Apple and Blackberry Magic

  • Score (The Queen of Hearts’s Candied Apple): 2 out of 5 decapitated heads on stakes
  • Score (Ursula’s Blackberry Magic): 3 out of 5 squirming tentacles
  • Price: Free!
  • Size: 9 oz. box
  • Purchased at: Somewhere in California
  • Nutritional Quirks: Made mostly of sugar and corn syrup, but it’s the artificial flavoring that spooks me.

Limited Edition Candy Corn flavor creme Artificially Flavored Oreo

It’s only mid-September, so you may be wondering why I’m reviewing a candy corn-flavored cookie. Well, first of all, mid-September is Halloween time. I don’t care what you say; from now until October 31st, I will submerge myself in as many ghosts, ghouls, bats, witches, zombies and fake blood as I can, and I will do it with no apologies.

Second, the Internet seems to have exploded with Candy Corn Oreo mania. Why? I have no idea. As we continue to descend into oddly-flavored snack food madness, Candy Corn Oreos seem like a rather mundane thing to get crazy about. But hey, I go where the Internet goes. And here we are.

I’ve been calling them Candy Corn Oreos, but their official moniker is Limited Edition Candy Corn flavor creme Oreos. This irritates me for two completely trivial reasons. Shouldn’t that be “flavored creme”? And why is it spelled “creme” instead of “cream”? Is there a difference? I can’t seem to find one, beyond using French spelling to look fancy. You are Candy Corn Oreos. You are not fancy. You have flavored cream.

Actually, wait, the official official name is Limited Edition Candy Corn flavor creme Artificially Flavored Oreos. So maybe they didn’t want to have two “flavored”s in one…eh, I give up.

I know, I know. I’m being nitpicky. I think I’m just cranky because I’m all out of candy corn-related material. When I reviewed Candy Corn Dots, I noted that people either love or hate candy corn. A year later, I reviewed M&M’s White Chocolate Candy Corn, wherein I made the same observation, and also linked to the same Lewis Black skit on candy corn, in which he is much funnier than I am anyways, because he’s Lewis Black.

Please, everyone: stop making things that are supposed to taste like candy corn. For my sake. I’m starting to look like a schlub at open mic night over here, sweating and pulling at my shirt collar. Even the drunks are getting tired of my old material, and they’re already blacked out.

Well, let’s get this over with, then.

Jesus Christ, Nabisco, you are giving me no breaks, here. Look at this minimalist packaging. “Hey, here’s a cookie, and some CG candy corns of varying sizes, in case you did not understand that these are Candy Corn Oreos.”

Actually, the more I stare at it, I like the way the candy corns increase in size, giving the illusion that they are coming closer and closer to you. That big guy in front looks like he’s about ready to jump right off the package and fuck my shit up. The cookie and the Oreo logo can barely contain him. He’s all like, “Hold me back bro, hold me back!” I bet he wouldn’t even know what to do with himself if they let him go. All the candy corns in the background are just rolling their eyes. “Ugh, Gary does this every time he drinks.”

Upon opening the package, I was assaulted not by Gary, but by the overwhelming smell of sugar. I literally did one of those “whoah, back that shit up” moves, like when you sniff a carton of expired milk, except less gross and more “I think I just got a cavity through my olfactory senses”.

Heh. It looks like a candy corn butt.

I’d go on another inappropriate rant about how the white tip of candy corn is not properly represented, but I guess you could say the Golden Oreo cookies themselves serve that function. You slid by on a technicality, Nabisco.

What’s more important here is that the flavor of the candy corn is not properly represented. I tried, I really did. I ate like, four cookies. I licked the cream – er, creme. If I tried really hard, I thought I could maybe taste some residual candy corn flavor, but mostly it was typical sweet vanilla-ish Oreo frosting and Golden Oreo cookie.

My husband swore he could taste the candy corn, but try as I might, I just wasn’t getting it. And you know what? I’m pretty okay with that, because I think I’d rather have a regular Golden Oreo than a candy-corn flavored Oreo.

I appreciate the efforts of any snack company that makes special seasonal products, but if you’re going to put out some Limited Edition Candy Corn flavor creme Artificially Flavored Oreos, they should probably taste like candy corn. These Oreos won’t go to waste, but I also won’t feel much Halloweenier eating them, which means they’ve missed their mark. Maybe I’ll dunk them in a nice, tall glass of fake blood to get more into the Halloween spirit.

Spirit? Get it? I hope so because I’m going to use that joke about 50 more times before Halloween is over. Enjoy!

Limited Edition Candy Corn flavor creme Artificially Flavored Oreo

  • Score: 3 out of 5 candy corn butts
  • Price: $2.99
  • Size: 10.5 oz. package
  • Purchased at: Target (exclusive)
  • Nutritional Quirks: Does not taste like candy corn, but you’ll still get a hearty helping of sugar!

Dinosaur Dracula, GrubGrade and The Impulsive Buy also reviewed these cookies.

M&Ms White Chocolate Candy Corn

Candy corn. Love it or hate it, it’s been around for over 100 years, and it’s not going anywhere. It’s an iconic symbol of Halloween. It can be used to make impromptu vampire fangs, so hey, that’s something. I’m a big fan of Lewis Black’s take on the stuff. My take on candy corn? I don’t hate it, but let’s just say it never went into the “premium” pile of candy when it came time to sort out my trick-or-treat haul.

I had never even heard of M&Ms White Chocolate Candy Corn until it arrived in the Halloween package of love my mom sent me. Yes, two out of my three Halloween reviews have come courtesy of my mom. Yes, I am a grown woman, and I still get care packages from my mommy. Don’t act like you’re not jealous. I don’t care if you’re 15 or 50, getting a box full of goodies for Halloween is awesome.

I have to say, I’m loving the package. The bag subtly reflects the candy corn’s tri-color appearance, and there’s some corn stalks in the background, because everyone knows candy corn is made from corn. It’s going to be the next biofuel. Which is great, because the amount of uneaten candy corn in the world could probably get us by for a very long time.

And then, of course, there’s Red. Red looks pissed. Or…constipated? It’s hard to tell. Although, given his hand placement, it’s either intestinal distress or he hates how the costume makes him look fat. Regardless, he wants out of that fucking costume like right now. He must share Lewis Black’s views on candy corn.

Through pure chance or clever design on the part of M&Ms, the sample I took from the bag to photograph seemed to reflect the color ratio of an actual candy corn. Small white tip, large yellow middle, and an orange base that falls in between. They’re larger than regular M&Ms, but maintain the classic M&M shape.

I was already apprehensive about the idea of a white chocolate candy corn-flavored M&M, so when I caught a strong whiff of plastic off of them, my hesitance only increased. I’m on good terms with white chocolate, but…together with candy corn flavoring? It seems like a rather Frankensteinian pairing. My tongue shuddered. It was the wrong kind of Halloween scary.

Good news and bad news: M&Ms White Chocolate Candy Corns taste like…candy corns. Which, come to think of it, taste pretty much like how the M&Ms smelled. Like plastic. They really nailed the taste quite accurately. There’s a hint of white chocolate flavor at the end, and it has the texture of white chocolate with a candy shell crunch, but the flavor is strongly that of candy corn. Possibly even more than candy corns themselves. M&Ms out-candy-corned the candy corn. Take that, Brachs.

If you’re a fan of candy corn, M&Ms White Chocolate Candy Corns will delight your palate and look great in that bowl on your coffee table that has a zombie hand sticking out of it which moves and screams any time someone passes by it, annoying everyone in the room. If you’re Lewis Black, I assume you will shout incomprehensibly and throw them across the room while twitching violently. If you are Red, I guess you’ll just stand there looking annoyed. I’m assuming the cast of M&M characters don’t indulge in cannibalism.

If you’re me, you’ll appreciate the entertaining packaging and the accuracy of the replication of candy corn flavor. Unfortunately, like candy corns themselves, these M&Ms won’t be in my premium pile of Halloween candy. However, I always appreciate it when a company tries something new for Halloween. Even if it tastes like plastic.

M&Ms White Chocolate Candy Corn

  • Score: 3 out of 5 pissed off Reds
  • Price: Freeeeeeeee! (Thanks again Mom!)
  • Size: 9.9 oz. bag
  • Purchased at: I have no idea; somewhere in Southern California
  • Nutritional Quirks: One serving (about 1/4 cup) contains 35% of your daily recommended saturated fat. Brach’s candy corn contains 0 grams of any fat. Make the wise choice. (Eat a Fun Size Snickers bar.)

Candy Corn Dots

Dots has three different Halloween-themed gumdrops: Bat Dots, which are blood orange-flavored, Ghost Dots, which look like they glow in the dark and come in assorted flavors so you never know what you’re going to get, and Candy Corn Dots, which is what I was stuck with since that’s all they had at my Target. I feel cheated.

Crushing disappointment aside, Candy Corn Dots are full of Halloween fun. Well, at least on the outside. Fall leaves, candy corn, and all the colors of the season.

And then there’s this guy up at the top here who is super happy to be on a box of Dots. Look at him, struggling valiantly to keep his floppy, hay-filled glove aloft so as to say hi and tell you that he’s really happy to see you. Scarecrow don’t get enough play on Halloween. It’s always about, well, bats and ghosts.

I believe that my box of Candy Corn Dots is cursed. I had to retake the pictures because the first time, everything came out impossibly dark. The second time, I took about 30 pictures of the box and had to play the “pick where you want your glare spot to be” game. I chose to sacrifice the Dot down at the bottom, because he was obviously trying to hog the spotlight and I wanted to make sure Scarecrow didn’t get blotted out, thus ruining one of his rare moments to shine.

The Dots themselves also proved difficult, but at this point whatever spirit was haunting my camera and/or Dots had exhausted me, so I just gave up and went with it. You win, Dots spirit. And you deserve to – you are the reason for the season!

On the left you see an example of a normal Candy Corn Dot, dome-shaped with orange being the dominating color and a yellow making up the base. I have to ask, where’s the white tip? Candy corns are pretty simple in their construction, and the white tip is pretty key. You’d think they could have just dropped a blob on the top or something.

On the right, you see the Candy Corn Dots equivalent of Quasimodo – deformed, mutated, and awesome. I commend him for managing to slip by whatever Quality Control protocols they have at the Tootsie factory. I ate him second, out of respect.

Candy corns have had their share of controversy, at least amongst the people with which I associate. You either like them or you hate them. We all know how Lewis Black feels about them. I personally find nothing distasteful about candy corn. It’s mostly just a colored triangle of sugar that crumbles in your mouth and rots your teeth. That said, when I would dump out my pillowcase after a long night of trick-or-treating, candy corn was never in the top tier pile. They weren’t vanquished to the pile of tiny boxes of raisins and Mary Jane Peanut Butter Kisses, but they wouldn’t be hanging out with bite size Snickers any time soon.

Despite the relative simplicity of candy corn, Dots manages to miss the spot. I haven’t had a Dot since…well, probably since I was young enough to trick-or-treat without anyone raising an eyebrow at my age, so I don’t have a Dot control subject. I stuck my nose in the box for a first whiff, and it smelled like plastic and chemicals, with a generic sweet undertone. I thought this was an anomaly, possibly coming from the box itself, but no, the candy itself tasted about the same way. Candy corn doesn’t have that strong of a flavor beyond sugar, and yet you could blindfold almost anyone and give them a piece and they would know that flavor. I had to really look, and possibly wish, for that flavor. It was mostly generically sweet with some plastic and candy corn undertones.

I was pretty disappointed by Candy Corn Dots. Perhaps I set the bar too high. After all, it’s just candy corn. But still, I feel that the missing white tip and the underwhelming replication of that distinct flavor were critical missteps. However, kudos to Dots for putting out a trio of very Halloweeny candy instead of just resting on their tiny-sized regular boxes that are a staple in any trick-or-treater’s bag. Also, Mr. Scarecrow looks so happy on that box. It would break my heart to see him frown.

(Candy Blog and The Surfing Pizza also reviewed these AND the two other varieties.)

  • Score: 2.5 out of 5 spoooooky candy-haunting spirits
  • Price: $0.99
  • Size: 7 oz. box
  • Purchased at: Target
  • Nutritional Quirks: Contains titanium dioxide, also found in paints and sunscreen. Yum!