halloween candy | Camera Viscera

Last October (2017), I made it a goal to drink 31 different beers—a new one each day—by the end of the month. Incredibly, I was successful in my attempt, which I dubbed #31FallBeers (look it up on any form of social media!) This year, I wanted to try something similar, but there were two important changes I needed to make. Firstly, I wanted to be able to expound more, so I decided against social media blurbs in favor of long-form posts on my site. Second: it needed to be much, much cheaper than drinking 31 different beers. The result? #31DaysOfJunk. Strap in and hold on tight, and please enjoy this month-long odyssey into the sugary, fatty belly of the autumnal beast.

I was going to start this by saying, “Sour Patch Kids have to be one of the best modern-day candies, right?”, assuming that SPKs were no older than the late-90s at most (that’s how it always seemed to me, at least). That is, until, I looked them up and found out they’ve actually been around since the late-70s(!) and took on their current form—one meant to capitalize off of Cabbage Patch Kids—in the mid-80s.

So allow me to start this by saying: “Sour Patch Kids have to be one of the best candies in general, right?”

They’re the perfect mix between sour and gummy, and they have a weird little mascot to boot. The closest competitor I can think of (in my book) is Zours. But SPK, man, they’re just the whole package, aren’t they?

These spooky SPKs (curiously surnamed the singular “Zombie”, as in “Sour Patch Kids Zombie”) are the exact same formula as regular ol’ SPKs. This box, however, is limited to orange and purple varieties. They feel extra soft to me—softer than I am used to—but maybe I just got a weird batch.

The day after I purchased these, I discovered Sour Patch Kids Candy Corn at the store. I thought doubling up on the SPKs might be overkill, so I decided to pass, regrettably. The candy corn shape would’ve been a nice variation on the candy, as these are identical to the usual SPKs you get any time of year.

In the end, they didn’t reinvent the wheel with these, but then again they didn’t have to.

Sadly, when the Necco candy company shuttered its doors earlier this year (don’t worry: it’s apparently coming back soon), one of the casualties—besides Necco Wafers and Valentine’s Day staples, Sweethearts—were “Mary Janes”. (No, not that, you stoney-baloney goofballs.) And with it went its classic old-timey bag art.

Thankfully, the instantly recognizable black and orange wax wrappers remain—and while the name has changed (to “peanut butter kisses”), the concept has not: chewy, peanut butter taffy with a bit of real peanut butter in the center. In other words: mother’s milk. (No, not the Red Hot Chili Peppers album, you stoney-baloney goofballs.)

Earlier this month I reviewed what I considered the be the quintessential fall candy: Hershey’s Miniatures. But really, nothing says HALLOWEEN! more than these little black and orange-wrapped goodies. They’re so simple and old-fashioned, but they’re timeless. They might not be the candy you want to see at the bottom of your bag or bucket on Halloween night—they’ll never be on the same level as finding a full Snickers or Butterfinger bar. But if you didn’t find one or two of these suckers in the pile you dumped on your floor, would it really feel like Halloween? I think not.

Thankfully, they’re a shareable candy—the kind your parents, or old uncle, or elderly neighbor would be happy to take off your hands. (Think of Halloween as like a cooler, edgier Christmas—the theme of giving and sharing remains, but you get to dress like a demon hellspawn while doing it.)