Roger Ebert and Candy

This week, film critic Roger Ebert wrote an entry in his blog about how he can no longer eat or drink after four unsuccessful surgeries for his thyroid cancer. "That sounds sad," a reader wrote to him. "Do you miss it?" The piece was wonderfully written. Of course, I wondered if he'd mention candy in his entry, and yes, he did:

"Another surprising area for sharp memory is the taste and texture of cheap candy. Not imported chocolates, but Red Hots, Good and Plenty, Milk Duds, Paydays, Chuckles. I dreamed I got a box of Chuckles with five licorice squares, and in my dream I exalted: "Finally!" With Necco wafers, there again, the licorice were the best. The peculiar off-purple wafers were space-wasters. As a general rule in candy, if anything is black, red or green, in that order, I like it. This got carried so far one day I found myself googling White Hen-style candy with the mad idea of writing an entire blog entry on the subject. During visits to a Cracker Barrel I would buy paper bags filled with licorice, root beer, horehound and cinnamon drops. Searching for Black Jack gum, I found whole web sites devoted licorice in its many forms."I like how he pointed out that his memories are of "cheap" candy, not fancy chocolates. He hit the nail on the head. Think back to some of your favorite candy memories. No doubt you can conjure up something about wax bottles, satellite wafers, Bit-O-Honeys and the like. And consider: when was the last time you really thought about the candy you were eating? Did you really savor a candy cane over Christmas? Did you think about how it just tastes so ... Christmassy? How it has its own particular mint flavor, how it forms a sharp point when you suck on the end or gets stuck in your molars when you chomp down on it? Take some time today to "be one" with a piece of candy. Look at it, smell it, taste it. Appreciate it for what it is, because you never know when you'll get to try another piece again.

Old Timey Candy

This is so cool. It's a website of nostalgic ads with lots of candy-related stuff. This picture is from a sales book from the 1940s. There are also ads for Chuckles (assorted and all-licorice), Nickel Nacks (little boxes of candy corn, lemon drops and other yummies), 3 Musketeers (the original with three flavors!), Stark "The World's Longest Candy Roll" (looks similar to Necco Wafers), and-- you've gotta love this-- "Mason Cocoanut Queens: A luscious, tasty chocolate flavored coating, impervious to temperature extremes covers a moist, flavorful cocoanut center."

There's lots more, too. You'll have tons of fun looking at these. Which reminds me, I have an old Life Savers ad that I need to get framed to hang in the H-man's room.

Random Candy Memory: Chuckles

My parents have taken me to Barkers, the nasty discounty five-and-dime pre-WalMart store. I hate going here because my neighbor told me a story about a woman who tried on a coat and she felt some pinching. It turned out that the coat was made in some far-off land and had snakes sewn into the lining. Of course I now know this is an urband legend, but it scared the bejezus out of me at the time. Anyhow, there are candy machines in the entrance. I see a package of Chuckles—the rectangular pillow-shaped gum drop candies. Each package has a red (cherry), orange (orange), yellow (lemon), green (lime) and black (licorice). I wonder to myself why anyone would pick Chuckles over another candy, because I really don't like them. I only like the black ones. Why would anyone pick Chuckles when they could have M&Ms or even those dry peanut butter crackers?
Thirty years later, when I get stressed or cold, the Chuckles jingle goes through my mind. “Chuckles, chuckles, C-H-U-C-K-L-E-S. Chuckles. All kinds of Chuckles would you like some? Yes!” I haven’t actually seen a package of Chuckles in years, or maybe it's just that I subconsciously block it from my vision.