Our shrewd powers of deduction, and a tip from the Psychic Friends Network (we believe!), indicate that 2008 will not only be characterized by the comeback of such sinful things as hookah bars, Spanish wine and carbohydrates (finally), but also the continued emergence of fantasy-flavored candy, chili-infused chocolate being the most popular this year. That's why we dared not let an opportunity pass us by to sample Theo's line of 3400 Phinney Chocolate, which pairs organic and Fair Trade certified cocoa beans with bold ingredients that give otherwise traditional tasting bars an innovative twist. Our favorite combines rich dark chocolate with buttery, toasted artisan breadcrumbs and just the perfect pinch of salt. Viva carbs!
When it comes to the traditional turkey-n-tater Thanksgiving feast, we say nuts to the gravy-topped course and get to slicin' Grandma's punkin pie! Er, pumpkin pie (we're not hillbillies). Unfortunately, Grandma mistakenly topped last year's custard creation with Gilette shave cream, claiming it looked and smelled just like Reddi-Whip. Makes sense. However, the incident resulted in our celebrating the fall harvest with Poison Control and an ER full of residents who were nothing like those characters on Scrubs. Needless to say, her Thanksgiving treats have remained suspect.
But luckily our homegal, Chef Jin Caldwell of Ethel's Chocolate Lounge, knows her way around pumpkin puree and has created a spiced pumpkin buttercream coated in white chocolate that tastes even better than the real homemade deal. The confection is part of Jin's holiday collection that also includes cranberry, egg nog and gingerbread truffles. But beware: Jin's rendition of Pecan Pie is loaded with brandy, so keep Grandpa and his boozehound belly at a distance.
It's funny. One decade Devo’s Whip It lyrics are empowering a hardworking middle class to overcome adversity / are fueling a masochism movement among American teens (crack that whip!), the next they're inspiring Hershey's newest sweet treat. A fluffy peanut butter nougat bar surrounded by a thin layer of milk chocolate, The Reese's Whipp is a tasty alternative to the Three Musketeer. However, it's a bit of a confectionary quandary. While advertised as having 40% less fat than that of other candy bars, Reese's Whipps somehow contain 20% more calories. Whatever. We still say music is magic.
Backpacks strapped and permission slips forged, this weekend Bittersweetjesus embarked upon the field trip of a lifetime: The 10th Annual International Chocolate Show, a three-day traveling festival featuring everything from chocolate-covered cherries and chillies to bittersweet bonbons and cocoa cocktails, all from 75 of the world's most renowned chocolatiers (read: NOT Russell Stover).
While VIP guests navigated the 40,000 square foot space Thursday evening as part of the opening benefit and cocoa couture fashion show, the rest of us Joe Twelve-Packs synchronized our Swatches for 10 am Sunday morning and let the shameless scarfing begin. After 3 hours spent sampling our body weight in sweets, we snapped a slew of pictures that we'll let do the talking while we imbibe some Pepto Bismol.
While we still contest that Elvis is living in an estate just south of Sacramento, it's a comfort to know someone is paying homage to the King. These calorie-laden, supersize peanut butter and banana creme Reese's cups will even have consumers sangin' Love Me Slender. Heartburn Hotel?
While walking Chicago's Magnificent Mile this morning, we were unexpectedly plagued by feelings of nausea, headache, fatigue and dry mouth. Just as we relayed our symptoms to a cyber clinician via Huckleberry device (bookmarked, we're hypochondriacs), it dawned on us: it had been 13 hours since we last consumed anything derived from the cocoa bean. (Lousy hotel replacing our Count Chocula with Cheerios. Pfff.) WebMD spouted off something about a possible brain aneurism but we took AP Biology and know a thing or two about self-diagnosis. Clearly choxofication: chocolate withdrawal.
Lucky for us, Bloomsberry & Co. have just the prescription. Their Emergency Chocolate and Dr. Chocolate bars not only deliver 50 CCs of all-natural premium cocoa with each bite, they also provide immediate relief of candy cravings, lovesickness, mild anxiety and extreme hunger. The bars can alternatively be massaged into affected areas (at your own discretion).
Last weekend, while perched upon barstools nursing a few bonzers, two lads swooped in and asked us if we were down for some ‘shotskis.’ Pretty sure that means a belt of Popov but we never did study eastern European language so we're a little fuzzy on the translation. Regardless, the sheer thought brought back some hazy memories of college where we... er, our friend woke up shoeless next to Blockbuster, vowing never again to consume bevs containing Russian water. Like poison, it is!
But during a trip to Chicago this week, garment gal Susan Morgan led us to Ethel's Chocolate Lounge and convinced us that the collection of vodka cocktail-inspired candy was worth sampling. While initially hesitant, we drank down the booze-infused truffles (eyes closed, nose plugged). To our surprise, the Lemon Drop, Etheltini and Chocolapolitan not only quenched our thirst for chocolate, but we also woke up the next day hangover-free!
If this commercial doesn't wax the least bit nostalgic, get thee to Googling the chewable, fruitable, now discontinued candy delight of a decade. While you're there, Wikipedia Mama's Family. I'm curious to know whether this gal was ever a stand-in for Thelma "Mama" Harper.
Each week, Bittersweetjesus calls attention to one prehistoric candy that is still manufactured, despite the fact that even those with the least discriminating sweet teeth around (ie, smokers, Grandma, consumers of Necco Wafers) won't eat it. This week, after a few hours spent stewing in my own creative juices [Ed. sitting in a bathtub filled with lukewarm water and Mr. Bubble], I decided to kick things off with wax lips: the so-called candy that not only straddles the fence between confection and cosmetic, but can also be filed under The Poor (Wo)man’s Lip Augmentation.
Believe it or not, wax lips – which are indeed classified as candy - were once a popular novelty, especially during the Halloween season. However, primarily marketed as just a hilarious substitute for one’s own lips, few knew the oversize paraffin pouters actually doubled as a gum that could be chewed once the gag grew stale. Since most wax lips were given the ol’ heave-ho when the novelty wore off, the product experienced a rapid decline in popularity. And although their demand has waned even more significantly over the past few decades, Concord Confections continues its production of these tasteless travesties.
While I'll admit that some may find a mouthful of saliva-softened wax amusing, I have a difficult time digesting the continued display of wax lips in sweet shops across the US.
In other news, gold stars for those who caught the lame, but intended, digestion / gum pun in the sentence above!
Comstock kiddie clearly forced to forfeit king size Kit Kat thanks to a puny Halloween pail
A breaking news bit for this year's crop of trick-or-treaters and 16-year-old scamps who solicit candy intended for those actually dressed in costume (we're on to you's kids!): Word on the virtual street is that the percentage of households handing out full, king and other mattress-size candy bars is expected to grow exponentially this year. Nuts to all that so-called "systematic" childhood obesity research - this is good news, peeps! Just be sure the circumference of your candy container (2 x pi x radius, yo) is conducive to this year's selection of supersized confections. Screw the once stalwart pumpkin pail. Call in the Smurfs pillowcase!
Eager to take their own pound of flesh from a once innocent Halloween holiday, Act II has introduced candy corn flavored popcorn. A candy corn enthusiast myself, I was hesitant when offered the new treat. But admittedly, the taste verdict was surprisingly positive. Although the appeal of the flavored popcorn is more in its rich candy corn scent than its candy corn taste, the experience is satisfying overall.
One could almost pat Act II on the back, except they had to take things a step too far. The box of pop corn suggests that Act II is a perfect Halloween handout; they even provide a "Fun Pops for Trick-or-Treaters" recipe. However, the candy corn popcorn is only available in huge boxes of tiny bags.
Take a moment to imagine, if you will, Halloween ten years down the road if Act II gets its way on All Hallows Eve. A child, all dressed up as his favorite spook or celeb, rings a doorbell. A woman comes to the door, asks "Trick of Treat?" The kid is no fool. "Treat," he says. She hands him some cake batter. Next house, same scene. Now the kid has a plastic pumpkin with some cake batter and a stick of raw sugarcane inside. Third house hands out a plastic-sealed bag of Act II Candy Corn flavored popcorn...
Point too abstract for you? That's just what Act II wants. Halloween is a no-assembly-required holiday. Leave the cooking, installing, plugging in, trying on, and gift exchanging for Christmas, Act II! Halloween is meant to be unwrapped and enjoyed... immediately.
There are certain things in life that theoretically make complete sense: extended warranties, Communism, drive-thru liquor stores, culottes, and carob. Free of refined sugar, preservatives, cocoa, caffeine and any other serotonin-releasing stimulants, carob confections are a well-intentioned alternative for the cocoa-intolerant and those who simply aren’t fond of chocolate (aka lying SOBs).
But when it came time to sample Goldie's Premium Carob Bars, the sweet choco-substitute had such an overbearing chalky texture and potent after taste that even I couldn't choke it down. And that's pretty bad considering this comes from a girl who used to consume her own makeshift peanut butter cups (3 parts frozen Yoo Hoo, 2 parts crushed peanuts). And while it hurts my heart to report that Goldie has created a vague approximation of the real chocolate deal, I know she'll appreciate the constructive criticism in the long run. Tough love!
Carol K pretty much set the stage for future candy consumption the day she sent us toddling off to school with a lunch consisting of Nutella slapped between two slices of crustless Wonder Bread. Mom sure did work some long hours; she must have been strapped for time that week. But thanks to her lackluster lunch packing (sorry, Mom), the Krozek kids developed a refined taste for creamy hazelnut / cocoa spreads and Rocher chocolates, the truffle-like candies that take a whole roasted hazelnut encased in a thin wafer shell (diagram above) and fill it with the same innards as the delicious, non-nutritious Nutella sammiches mother dearest used to make.
So needless to say, we were stoked to have stumbled upon a dark chocolate version of the Rocher: the Rondnoir. But as our pearly whites cracked through the crispy outer coating, we found the Rondnoir to be absolutely nothing like Rocher. The whole hazelnut nucleus characteristic of the Rocher has been replaced with a dark chocolate cream surrounding a black pearl of buttered-up dark chocolate.
We don't recall anyone complaining about the Nutella or hazelnut, Ferrero. You can't fool us. Did you really think you'd successfully execute the ol' one-two switcheroo? Now make with a hazelnut-infused Rondnoir... or else!
After sampling Green & Black’s Maya Gold bar last week, we had this idea to dip into the Bittersweetjesus piggy bank and book a trip to Belize so we could tour the factory where the fairtrade and organic chocolate bars are manufactured. But after cracking open ol' Piggy Sue, we found but a handful of pennies, an IOU dated 1998, and a folded-up cocktail napkin with the scribbled digits of some character named Raul. Curse you, NYC and your ridiculous cost of living! I even took one for the team and tried calling Raul (just sayin' hi!) to see if he or any of his investment banker cronies would be interested in funding the trip. Fella never even gave a courtesy call back. Stanks. But luckily the kind folk at Green & Black have the fiscally irresponsible covered [Ed. not talking about me here]. They have an all-expenses paid trip for two to the Cadillac of the Caribbean up for grabs. When you and your +1 aren't scarfing / wolfing / devouring their entire line of exotic fruit and spice-infused chocolate, the crew has arranged for mountain tours, kayaking, cave exploration and Belize Barrier Reef diving. Get thee to entering!
I ask you this: what other blog would dedicate not one, but TWO posts to defecating-animal candy dispensers? No one, that’s who.* And since our gal Kelly Downey and her pops got such a kick out of the Poo-lar Bear , they got to Googling and discovered there's an entire line of candy-crapping critters out there.
A downtown Seattle CVS (corner of Columbia and 3rd Ave) currently carries several holiday-themed characters: Penguin Pooper, Oh Deer, and Super Dooper Reindeer Pooper. But if you’re one of those destitute types who can’t afford the $5.99 price tag (read: me) and isn’t willing to wait for post-holiday price slashing (read: me again), at least you can poop, er, peep a few exclusive pics here.
Bittersweetjesus ((dot) blogspot (dot) hoohah) is on location this week... Seattle, kids! I would have liked to broadcast from northern neighbor, British Columbia, but I forgot a passport. Curses. Regardless, I'm having a fabulous time in the city ranked third highest in candy consumption (trailing only behind Boise and Portland). No wonder I fit in – sweet teeth are ingrained in the DNA of these Pacific Northwesterners; it’s the way of their people. Seattle even boasts several famous homegrown chocolatiers who I paid a visit and will be posting plenty of words about.
But until then, I wanted to share a kitschy Christmas confection already on the shelves of Seattle. The Poo-lar Bear - a revolting plastic polar bear that defecates cola and butterscotch-flavored jelly beans. Simply press down on the bear’s hindquarters for the tasty treat. The bear comes with .6 ounces of candy feces and transparent packaging lined with a cartoon Antarctic backdrop. Absolutely precious.
Be sure to check back throughout the week for a slew of Seattle coverage. Until then, I'll try to figure out who is deserving of the pooping critter candy dispenser.
These days, nearly 23% of conversation in the Bittersweetjesus office (aka Barcade on Saturday nights) revolves around our general disdain for nostalgic candies. From the toothsomely tame candy necklace to the mildly subversive bubble gum cigar, retro confections have maintained a presence on store shelves despite their tawdry taste and total lack of demand.
Think about it – when was the last time you saw someone walk into Economy or Dylan’s actually looking for wax bottles, Red Hots, or those strips of candy buttons that stick to the paper?
That’s what we thought.
So after two or three (or ten) Hefeweizens, we came up with a rather lengthy / illegible list of nostalgic novelties that should be banished for confectionary crimes. And each week, we’ll be highlighting one of these stoneage sweets, in hopes that their creators will halt production.
The series will run until we exhaust our expansive list, or this topic becomes stale like the dust-covered Nestle Crunch in Grandma Krozek’s pantry.
Since the first shipment of Autumn Mix was delivered to the 14th Street / Union Square location of Walgreen's (August 16th, fyi), I've made a point to consume no less than 2 bags of Brach's Candy Corn each week. And that's no easy feat, friends. Such copious consumption leaves little room in the ol' stomach for the onslaught of other Halloween candies out there - peanut butter pumpkins, vampire-shaped kit kats, and any one of a variety of snack-size sweets popping up in office lobbies as the holiday approaches. Straight up sucks.
But since Brach's is the ONLY brand to master the tri-colored treat - perfect parts sugar, corn syrup and honey - I will continue to pay homage. After all, the Brach's brand is proof that there are very few things in life more infrangible than the bond between a young gal and her candy corn.
So I've just become aware of a commercial spot epic spanning no less than 9 episodes that features Snickers (the KFC Famous Bowl of candy bars) in the hands of various “feasters” from the past. The premise: Snickers is such a feast that Norse Warriors will flee Valhalla; Pilgrims will abandon the Thanksgiving table; Caesar will leave a Greco-Roman wrestling match; and Native Americans will drop ritual tribal dances just to get their hands on one.
Each of the episodes (which are available on the tragedy that is YouTube) star the anachronistic comic quartet having wacky interactions as they travel through modern America in a beat-up sedan.
To be honest, I can't tell whether the characters have purportedly traveled through time, or they were simply kidnapped (frat-boy style) from strange historical refuges to take part in the feast.
In the most recent episode, a BP gas station has run out of regular Snickers. Needless to say, the viking is initially furious (after all, he did leave an eternal land of feasting for this shit). But upon learning that the new dark chocolate variety of Snickers is available, he is thrilled. He expresses both his rage and jubilee by tossing adjacent trashcans at a nearby vehicle.
I theorize that the episodes are all building to a Halloween climax, wherein we learn the truth of the characters' mysterious origins. Perhaps they'll take off their costumes to be revealed for the stoners that they really are. Or maybe, one by one, they’ll be zapped out of the car back to their own time (which is how I hope it turns out).
But what if, despite the promise sworn one night at a Motel 8, the viking sneaks a Snickers back through time to his homeland? I can see it now…
The viking brings the Snickers to a druid who divines the recipe and recreates Snickers in a cauldron. The cauldron, deemed dangerous to Iceland, is entrusted to the viking ships sent under Leif Erikson to explore America. The American settlers overindulge; lacking proper dental hygiene, they quickly lose their teeth. They can no longer tear into the juicy roasts and pig legs that have saturated their diet. They can't eat the buffalo and corncobs so popular among the natives. And that's why the viking settlement in America vanishes circa 1000 AD.
To cope with the wait, I guess I'll have to go out and try me a dark chocolate Snickers. Somehow I just can't imagine the dark chocolate mattering much, what with all that nougat and caramel and peanuts. But then, I'm no historian.
if there's one thing i've learned to avoid (aside from the obvious gym rat with outlandish pecs and underdeveloped calves), it's anything advertised as being low in sugar. sound science and research show that the sweetener of good ol' mother nature is not only a fundamental fuel for the brain, it's also what makes otherwise healthy food tasty enough to consume. think about it - where would count chocula be today without sugar? straight corn cereal bits; no marshmallows, kids. and just try choking down a chunk of unsweetened baker's chocolate. go ahead, i dares ya.
but despite evidence to support the positive effects of sugar, there are haters out there who keep throwing around funny little words like diabetes, obesity, hyperactivity, and cavities. our official stance: speculation. show us some numbers, scienticions!
but the hershey's team is sensitive to all the sugar-scared squares out there and has introduced it's Whole Bean milk chocolate bar with 40% less sugar than the leading milk chocolate bar. (i know, those words hurt my ears, too.) but after giving this toothsome treat a spin, i was pleasantly surprised. while not as melt-in-your-mouthy as it's sucro-laced counterpart, the Whole Bean bar brings a mildly sweet and smooth chocolate taste. it also contains a whopping 7 grams of fiber per serving (step aside, All Bran!)
the cons: hershey's use of "high-intensity sweetener" (read: an artificial sugar even i can't pronounce with 2 years of organic chemistry under my belt), which they claim necessary to give the chocolate a "well-rounded flavor." the bar also comes with a break-the-bank $2.50 price tag per 1.3-ounces. highway robbery!
consensus: a valiant effort. but when it comes to sugar, i say go big or go home!
this halloween season, the conscientious folk at hershey’s put together an online safety course chock full of tips intended to make trick-or-treat experiences safer ones. and with good reason – predators decked out in popular street wear (see hooligan pictured above) are out trolling the streets, offering up to trick or treaters half-eaten suckers laced with poison, drugs, and the occasional hypodermic needle.
but lucky for us, contributing writer steev sachs studied his little tookus off, passed the trick-or-treat training course with flying colors (see diploma), and shared all of the valuable information he accrued.
recently the hit-or-miss masterminds at the wonka candy company put the flavors of their fabulous runts candies up for review. one pictures charlie bucket, mid-fifties, dressed in wonka’s stale purple suit, seated at the head of a long table in a conference room beneath a massive smirking portrait of the godfather himself. he’s just wrapped up a reiteration of his dedication to getting every wonka candy into “rope” form. he sees the bottle caps exec open his mouth to speak. dreading the inevitable debate on whether cherry is really a soda flavor, he frantically shouts out the first thing that comes to mind: “so what’s new with runts?”
(suddenly you wonder whether the fan shouldn’t have had him after all.)
alas, what ensued is far more drastic than the inclusion of blue-raspberry or the sad replacement of lime with watermelon in the nineties. some disenfranchised tropical runts lobbyist seems to have bed the right oompa loompa and forced upon us the supposed-extinct pineapple flavor and its new bastard cousin, mango. what’s worse, these flavors have come at the cost of watermelon, blue-raspberry, and the stalwart classic cherry.
a brief but well-intentioned internet search turned up no press releases explaining the specifics of this stunning change. in fact, the wonka product website still taunts us with a picture of the old box – cherry, blue-raspberry, and even the bitter watermelon grinning like summertime—lackadaisical and already part of a vague and romantic past.
for the present, at least chewy runts have been spared the tropical fate of their rigid kin. if one can overlook the pruney grape pieces, there is some small consolation to be found inside the red plastic bag. beyond that, however, runts enthusiasts will likely have to wait ‘til april and pray that runts eggs will continue to feature classic flavors.
for my part, I'm reserving my quarters for laundry and the homeless - but still scouring bus stations and diners for a dusty quarter-machine full of all my old friends.
ladies and gents, it is with great pleasure that bittersweetjesus introduces it's newest (read: only) contributing writer, steev sachs. aka, steeveatsandwich
when steev isn't catching pokemon or watching sabrina the teenage witch, he'll be periodically crafting clever commentary about the candies he loves and the confections he loathes.
the above conversation is actually what landed steev this here position.
back in july, brother derek forewarned us that a failure to reference the peppermint patty by it's proper name (the York Peppermint Patty) would inevitably result in some bad shit. and now we're in mighty hot water with bootleg charlie brown (above). looks like he consumed one of those bargain basement peppermint patties brother d spoke of.
sorry, charlie! we thought everyone knew to pony up for the brand name. our sincerest apologies.
fyi: candy-store-owning Dylan isn't the only one we adore.
according to our calculations (let's see... divide by 3, carry the 1, square the remainder), site traffic is expected to grow exponentially (read: from 3 readers to 7) thanks to this here endorsement.
this week, bittersweet bud kelly downey (in scandalous shot above) sent word about a few talented mars folk (confectioners not aliens) who have launched a delicacy that laces the fluffy chocolate nougat of a candy classic with refreshing peppermint. a mint musketeer, bros and bras. mint musketeer! but since said confection hasn't made it's way to the northeast, we haven't yet seen or tasted it. and that means we can't provide our unsolicited opinion as to whether you should pony up for the modified les trois mousquetaires (everything sounds better in french). but you know what? if it's even half as invigorating as a peppermint patty, it's safe to assume we're sold. mars: hook a gal up!
fact: we revealed bittersweetjesus to the masses about 2 months ago. guns blazing, we spewed nothing but sanctimonious stories about the genius of this here candy blog. we also dished a healthy dose of slander for the handful of non-bittersweetjesus bloggers out there. and THEN what do we do? we dropped the ball. straight dropped it, kids. 4 measly posts in 2 months. now that just ain't right. especially when the candy consumption of yours truly has nearly doubled during that time. for shame!
but to our defense, we've had a few obstacles to overcome: seemingly interested freelancers who pitched fabulous story ideas only to flake like the crispy goodness of an aero bar (get to googling); contributing writer rebecca silverstein's recent preoccupation with pharmaceutical modeling (swing into any ob/gyn office east of 6th ave to see her ortho tricyclin work); and general summer shenanigans from this girly girl herself.
but fret not! we're back on the trolley and ready to start a confection revolution. and no - that doesn't mean 4 posts followed by another hiatus... jerks.
this past lucky-7 saturday was national chocolate day. and while the eyes of all six of our esteemed readers (including bob saget, the son of the guy who played ALF, and the ghost of lucille ball) were glued to bittersweetjesus as they anxiously awaited elaborate editorial / sanctimonious stories about the genius of cocoa beans, we dropped the proverbial ball and were instead incurring irreversible hearing damage at BOADRUM77 – a very special performance by the boredoms in DUMBO.
reasons we considered it important enough to miss national chocolate day:
two important notes for the beach bum masses heading to the sandy shore of long island this summer:
1.) prepare to see more gold-jewelry and excessively tanned hides than you thought humanly possible (uv-protection sunglasses strongly suggested as both are sure to burn holes in your retinas); and
2.) the candy selection along the boardwalk is lackluster, at best.
necco wafers? smarties? wax bottles? get with the times, strong island!
thanks to our good friends (food preservatives!) there are now a number of swelter-friendly chews perfect for the packing. recommendations include licorice (the australian kind that blows the US version out of the water), tootsie roll pops, and spree – combination / quantity depends entirely on your current cavity count.
the skor bar… what can i say about it that (most likely) hasn’t already been said? one of the most underrated candy bars on the market today, the skor bar was introduced to the sweet-toothed masses in 1983. it’s a toffee-based candy bar like it’s much older predecessor the ‘Heath’ bar. unlike the heath bar however, this sweet treat doesn’t get stuck to those big boney molars in the back of the mouth.
ever take a skor bar and put it in the freezer?! if you answered no, WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU WAITING FOR?! if you answered yes, will you date me? 'cause that would mean we have so much in common. but yes, putting this tasty little rectangle of goodness in the freezer helps to solidify the toffee and makes it a little less messy to eat.
here’s a fun little fact: skor translates as 'shoe' from swedish, and the crown that appears in the product's logo is identical to that found in the Swedish national emblem of 'tre kronor'. skor bars can be found practically anywhere... anywhere they sell fine-ass candy that is! So get to that local bodega, the supermarket, those little huts in the subway that sell candy and get yourself a skor! you can tell all of your friends that you scored… a skor!
mr. goodbars, baby ruths and peppermint patties alike: today marks the super official launch of bittersweetjesus - a special place in internet land where we post for the masses tasty commentary devoted to the wildcards who bring us sugared-up snacks.
not gonna lie - we lack any and all culinary prowess. matter of fact, we failed home ec and shake our fists at the entire baked goods family (curse you, baking soda and baking powder for looking so similar yet yielding such different results!). but when it comes to candy, we've got a knack for separating the good (junior mints) from the bad (zagnut bars) from the downright confusing (bottle caps). that's why we consider it our american duty to force... er, "bestow" upon the general public such beacons of confectionary competence...
