Skittles' Dark Side? Scary That They Think So.

I know I am on a Skittles rant of late, and I will move on in the next post (I promise).  However, after being disappointed by the Riddles, I was looking for some sort of reason to fall back in love with Skittles.  Therefore, when I saw the newest U.S. offering, Skittles Darkside - tagline: "the other side of the rainbow" - I immediately snatched them up and snuck (I refuse the proper conjugation "sneaked" on principle) them into my theater viewing of Argo. 

My opinion of them is colored (get it-- colored... rainbow... HUH?!) by many of the same concerns as I expressed in my Riddles post.  First, there are repetitive flavors: "midnight lime" is just "lime," and "blood orange" is not markedly different from "orange."  In addition, "dark berry" is simply a rehashing of one of the Mixed Berry Skittles line, and the "forbidden fruit" seems like a melon/punch type deal, again already addressed by Skittles.  The only really innovation here is the Pomegranate flavor, the "it" flavor of the decade for candies, juices and other edible items (see the surprisingly good pomegranate Tootsie Pop). 

The dark blue bag is nicely judged.  I wanted to pick up this bag.

All this said, I am live eat-blogging these Skittles even now, and I am not having the same kind of negative reaction I had with Riddles.  True, there is nothing "Dark" about these flavors, and so, there is no theme that binds these offerings; however, I find I like the candies.  I am not wild about the forbidden fruit or the berry flavors, but the pomegranate is good, and I have always liked lime and orange.  So, while there is nothing great about these Skittles, there is nothing that offensive about them, either.  Therefore, I give them a moderate endorsement.  A tip that real candy eaters probably already know: if you choose to "taste the rainbow" at once (eat a handful instead of anally separating the Skittles into colors), you will get a better Darkside experience.  A melange of flavors, where Red 40s and Yellow 5s seep together in harmony, is the way to go for sure.

Skittles Cannot Solve Riddle of Brand Extension

Once again, M&M Mars has missed the mark with one of its seemingly endless stream of brand extensions-- this time, the Skittles Riddles.  I got a package of these Skittles in my Xmas stocking (that's right: it's still happening!), and it was about the third time I had encountered the Riddles.  If you are unfamiliar with this candy, the basic premise is that the color of the Skittle does not tell you the flavor contained inside.  The flavor, therefore, is a "riddle" to be solved by the consumer.  The Sphinx's riddles these ain't, however.  Rather, these Skittles are an ineffectual assortment of odd flavors that, once identified, still do not imbue the consumer with the sense of glee that should accompany the eating of great candy.  First, the "punch" flavor is so generic as to be forgettable.  Second, the strawberry is an original flavor, which is disappointing to the Skittles purist: so few new ideas, eh Skittles?  Third, the apple flavor represents a kind of over-turning of American fans' wills, as people like me voted to keep the apple flavor from replacing the original lime Skittle in 2001 (check this old thread). Finally, the raspberry and watermelon flavors are OK, but boring, hardly enough to support a new line of Skittles. The fact that colors do not match flavors matters little when the flavors are so uninteresting.

The colors of these Skittles do not exactly make one salivate, either.  They look like the colors that toddlers get when they over-mix their finger paints.

This failure supports my general opinion that candy extensions are often sub-par.  Readers may remember, for example, my invective take on tropical candy brand extensions.  People might also simultaneously remember, though, that in the same post, I praise the Sour Skittle as one of the turn-of-the-century's greatest achievements.  So ultimately, the fact that the Riddles are on close-out at the local Kroger's and out of stock in most online candy stores (suggesting their imminent discontinuation) is only marginally pleasing to me.  I would never want to stifle the potentiality of brand extension candy.  For every travesty, like the chewy Spree, there are triumphs, like the Sour Skittle or Gummi Sweetart.  Yes, the Skittles Riddles are a big flop, but they are perhaps a stepping stone to future innovation, and we can all get behind that.

Honorable Mention: Marshawn Lynch

Today marks the beginning of a new feature here on the Candied Life: a serial tribute to those who have helped the candy cause.  These men and women are sometimes pioneers, but also sometimes just people who like candy and represent that affinity in their everyday lives.

Today's honoree just scored what should be the decisive score in an NFL playoff game for the Seattle Seahawks.  He is one of the NFL's greatest talents, a man ripped with muscle and impossible to tackle with just one defender.  One would think that this man would only pour protein shakes and probiotics into his body; however, this athlete, running back Marshawn Lynch, is a Skittles fiend.

Last year he was famously seen being fed the Rainbow of Fruit Flavors on the sideline during a game, and since, he has become a kind of icon for the candy.  After fans began to throw Skittles onto the field following Lynch TDs, the league, being the grouchy old men that they are, told Marshawn to chill out on his fruity fervor.  Undaunted, Lynch wore Skittles-themed cleats during a game and swiftly received a $10,000 fine for his enthusiasm. 

This is the kind of dedication in the face of persecution that in a perfect world we would all demonstrate, and because of his use of his high-profile career for the advancement of candy, Marshawn Lynch is here honored.

I'm Back, Baby! And With Halloween Just Around the Corner!

If you will excuse the pun (it's been about a year since I had the chance, man), it is a sweet time of year.  Fall has brought with it cool breezes, mutli-colored foliage, and blazing backyard fire pits.  The cruel oppression of the sun is at an end, and harvested crops have left field after field of empty rows: a beautiful symbol of bounties past and deferred.  It has also ushered in October, the month that concludes most gloriously with the candy Bacchanalia we call Halloween.

Oh, would that I could go back in time and kiss the pagans that began to worship the lesser deities.  If only there were a way to impart to them the positive and lasting impact they have had on my life.

Alas, barring a surprise visit from Bill n Ted, there is no way to do so, so once again this year, I look forward to honoring the pagans the best way I know how: by hastening my inevitable descent into to Type 2 diabetes.  Therefore, I will pull the old "What's that?!" routine with young kids so that I can steal their pumpkin pails; I will hunch over beneath a sheet and squeak out my most juvenile "Twick orw tweet" to increase my confectionary tally; and I shall sit in my car on November 1 waiting for Target to open.  Faithful readers know why.

Candy Teeth

I got the candy teeth today, readers. You know, the "tenderness" in the teeth after a night of particularly involved candy consumption?

Yeah, I went Haribos, Sour Patch and SweeTarts. Those who truly eat candy know that Haribos' tough waxy exterior alone can give you the teeth-hurt; add SweeTart crunching and the sour of the Patch Kids (also a classic hurtener, in excess), and I got me the candy teeth.


Soft dishes for dinner tonight.

Dum Dums and Mystery

The Dum Dum Pop is a classic. That is not to say that it is the greatest candy of all-time, but is it a true classic. Today, in fact, while visiting family at home, I went into the bank of my childhood and got my free Dum Dum. The same has been happening for at least the last 25 years or so (since I can remember). And that's what's great about the Dum Dum-- they are small and super cheap, so places like banks and museums have no problem giving out these suckers every day they are open. Today I opted for the perplexing Mystery flavor of Dum Dum, eschewing my usual pick of root beer or lemon. By the way, before I continue, the massive variety of flavors is the other great thing about the Dum Dum. Why would I go for strawberry or any other pedestrian flavor when cotton candy or mango are in the mix? (I say that knowing full well that lemon, a standard for me, is quite common; and I say that knowing that historical flavors like buttered popcorn were nasty.)



ANYWAY, I got the mystery one today. It was colored blue, but that doesn't mean a thing. Your coloration schemes cannot fool me, Spangler Candy! You will have to do better than that. Actually, the blue coloring does seem to mean that the flavor cannot be blue raspberry or the like, as that would be too obvious; but, the first lick of the pop told me that, as well--or did it? The first taste gave me vanilla or cream. I at first kept looking at the blueness, and that held me up for a moment, but I fought through it. The problem is that there may be no one flavor one is looking for, at least according to a number of reports. Those reports say that the mystery pop is actually a mix of two flavors that results from production admixture. They argue that the mystery pop is a way to cover a potential loss due to non-pure sucker production. **I feel like that last statement implies some racial undertones, but they are not intended. Let's not bring our racial politics to the Dum Dum table, people.


While I am inclined to believe this mixed-dum-dum story-- as the marketing potential for "revealing" or holding contests to see who could identify the mystery flavor each year could be boons to the Dum Dum brand image, something the company could not do if the mystery flavor is some happy mistake--I will for the sake of this story and my sanity say that I was looking for a single unique flavor today. That said, I think what I ate was a butterscotch pop. However, having eaten a ton of butterscotch candy, and given my first impression that the pop was vanilla-y, I can see how this pop may have been a dirty hybrid pop. Maybe some cream soda in there? However, in that case, whence came the blue dye? It was a murky blue, clearly mixed with the white/cream dye, but why blue if it were a hybrid of butterscotch and cream soda? Are my taste buds so easily fooled?

All these questions vexed me for about 15 seconds, because I am a biter. I cannot sit there with so small a pop in my mouth and not crunch it very quickly. So, the mystery lasted but for a few seconds, but man what a few seconds. It took me right back to being 8 and waiting in the drive-through for the tube to bring me and Sis a sucker. Good times.

New Tootsie Pop Flavor: Banasty

I have railed in the past about the horrors of artificial banana flavoring, right? If I haven't, I should have by now, cause that stuff is nasty. I know I spoke of the stupidity of meshing banana with various leper fruit flavors (kiwi-banana or banana-passion fruit) in "tropical" candy lines. But for the record, all banana-flavored candy is the worst. The worst, Jerry! The worst.

That's why I'm surprised that the Tootsie corporation has released upon the unsuspecting public a banana Tootsie Pop. Yeah, that's right: among the chocolate, cherry, grape and orange pops, there are now bright yellow-wrapped banana pops. Yuck.

Here you go: the end of the Tootsie Pop.

There are so many reasons why this is a bad idea, but chief among them is the fact that banana candy sucks. It never tastes like banana, and even if it did, why would I want that flavor in my candy? The citrus fruits are the gold standard, and all pretenders to the throne need to take a seat and let the big boys handle the business in flavor country. Sit your ass down, banana. No one wants you here.

And Tootsie, what the hell, man?