I’m sorry about this, candy corn, but you need to hear it: Your time as a candy has come and gone.
Candy corn is the worst of the Halloween candies (insofar as candle drippings can be called candy), despite what some of my misguided colleagues might say.
This is not a controversial stance. It’s already been written why even people who enjoy candy corn (psychopaths) also admit they don’t know why they love it and understand why others hate it.
Found on the internets. Adding here as a Public Service Announcement. –Glynn
I struggle to understand the candy corn defenders. As best I can tell, their love of candy corn is rooted in nostalgia, a throw back. (And by all means, if someone hands this to your child while trick-or-treating, feel free to actually throw it back.)
Candy corn is from the same generation of kids playing with a hoop and a stick. (Look it up.) Candy corn is a Vaudeville act. It’s garter belts on men’s socks and waxed, old-timey mustaches.
Vintage is great for Porsches. It’s terrible for Halloween candy.
Nostalgia doesn’t show up in the FDA-approved list of ingredients on the package. (Neither does love, apparently?)
You know what does? Shellac. I don’t know what shellac is doing in candy (listed right behind corn syrup and ahead of dextrose), or what confectioner’s glaze is. But I do know I don’t want to glaze my insides with yellow-orange-white chaw.
Move on to better things, candy corn. Fake vampire teeth. Sculptor’s putty. A second life as a Yankee Candle.
Your time is up.