MORE OF THE BEST
Red Vines
When it comes to candy, I like things at both extremes of the quality spectrum and very little in between. So there’s the really high-quality, natural, organic stuff — 85% cacao extra-dark chocolate, hand-painted curry-infused truffles, raw honey right out of the comb — and then the triple-processed sugary candy straight from the corn-syrup laden bosom of Mother Industry herself. No offense to Red Vines, but they fall squarely into that category, not even attempting to imitate natural flavors. But that’s exactly why I love them. Sometimes the good stuff is too good and a gut-punch of chewy processed sugar is what a guy really needs. – Michael Merline
Peanut M&Ms
I’m not a chocolate snob. Typically when I go out of my way to eat candy, it’s not to fill myself up or to introduce my taste buds to a dashing new flavor. It’s more of a quick pick-me-up, and that’s what led to my important relationship with peanut M&Ms in the midst of a barely paid internship for a washed-up music industry hack in which the daily routine was buying cat food and picking up dry-cleaning. Original M&Ms never did it for me – the candy coating seemed to linger well after the chocolate did. Additionally, I’ll go on record stating that peanut butter M&Ms are a poor man’s Reese’s Pieces, and pretzel M&Ms are just gross. So after years of shunning them for Snickers, Twix or gum, I opted for peanut M&Ms mid-errand one day and never looked back. Something about those damn peanut M&Ms started to click with me – maybe the yellow wrapper, maybe the chunkier size, but it’s most likely the simple, serene crunch. Now with that bullshit internship behind me, the candy reminds me of escape – obscenely delicious escape. – Kyle Wall
Mini York Peppermint Patties
The standard sized York peppermint patty is nothing to sneeze at, but it’s no match for the miniature version, which concentrates its mint/dark chocolate combination in a much better ratio, especially if you eat it in one bite. I know this with some confidence because at a 1997 Christmas party I ate no fewer than 25 individually wrapped patties, probably realizing that I was at the tail end of the age where this kind of gluttony was still acceptable. There’s also a Snyder’s-of-Hanover crossover that works pretzels into the mix, but at that point you’re not really dealing with candy anymore. – Jesse Cataldo
Conversation Hearts
I’m a sucker for seasonal candy. From Cadbury Eggs to candy corn, the fleeting nature of my favorite treats always gives me something new to look forward to year round. If I had to pick a favorite, it would be conversation hearts. Whether Sweethearts or Brach’s brand, their diverse tastes and ever-changing messages always give a lot to savor. I remember being in junior high and what a big deal it was when they added hearts that read “Fax Me” and later, “Email Me.” While the writing may change, the dependability always stays the same. – Chaz Kangas
Mike and Ike
Ever since I was a kid, this no-frills fruit flavored candy has been the go-to solution to quiet my sweet tooth. Now I go through long spells of not purchasing them – weeks, months, sometimes years – but any time I waltz (usually half- or whole-baked) into my local convenience store and pick up a box, I know I’m in for a treat. Of course, I have to try to rationalize away how much Mike and Ikes having 16 ingredients bothers me (that works out to only 3.2 ingredients per flavor!), but it doesn’t mean some large part of me doesn’t respond to that distinctive rattle, evoking darkened movie theaters and the comforting burden of a few pill-sized candies randomly excised from the box just waiting to be eaten, savored and chewed in strange combinations. - Joe Clinkenbeard
Pixy Stix
Candy is like drugs, kinda – kids go nuts over it/because of it and the smart ones try to make a buck or two off of the other young’ns’ sweet teeth by clandestinely selling that shit at school. Those kids probably grew up to become dealers. The metaphor becomes even more potent when you remember that Pixy Stix exist. For those who have forgotten, Pixy Stix are baby blow – not only is it in the form of a powder, but it comes in a straw, which is a couple tax brackets away from rolled up hundred dollar bills, effectively letting kids know you gotta start at the bottom. I used to suck these things down like [insert mildly humorous but incredibly sexist simile here], so it’s a miracle that I keep my nose clean like I do. I can’t say cocaine interests me very much – I like flavored powder on my tongue, not up my nose. But if drug dealers figure out how to infuse grape, orange and blueberry flavors into China white, society is fucked. - Danny Djeljosevic
Milky Way Dark
Milky Way Dark, Milky Way Midnight, Milky Way Midnight Dark – whatever Mars decides to call it, it’s my idea of a perfect candy bar. Vanilla nougat with caramel on top wrapped in dark chocolate. Three of my favorite flavors all in nice, neat bar form. I remember when I was a kid seeing it at a drug store, taking a chance and subsequently being blown away by the flavors. It must’ve been the first time I had dark chocolate. Ever since, I’ve loved the dark chocolate versions of candy much more than the regular versions. Thank you Milky Way Dark, for giving me the taste of dark chocolate. I’ll always buy you. – Tris Miller
Snickers Bar
I pity the poor people who work on ad campaigns for the Snickers Bar. How do you advertise for perfection? And those desperate bastards who have to come up with brief variations like Snickers Almond or Snickers Squared? Damned before they start. Don’t let highbrows try to say it’s just a candy bar. Don’t let lowbrows push their wretched Three Musketeers Bars at you. Snickers has been king since its introduction in 1930, and there’s a simple reason: it has everything you could ever want in a candy. Chocolate. Peanuts. Caramel. Nougat. It satisfies just like the commercial, and for all you snobs out there: it’s popular for a reason. - Nathan Kamal
