Head to Head: Candy Corn

Pro Candy Corn

By: Phoebe Zea

I’m not a fan of Halloween. I could care less about costumes, I hate horror movies and trick-or-treating with strangers was definitely not my thing as a kid. But there is one thing I look forward to every spooky season: the warm, soft embrace of little kernels of orange, white and yellow candy corns. It is perhaps the best seasonal treat we have in this country. And my passion for candy corn has bridged meal time-barriers, too. From the moment the first leaf falls off a tree until Nov. 1 at midnight, candy corn consumes me (or rather, I consume candy corn). Upon waking, I take the WinCo® bulk foods pound-bag of candy corn from my pantry, pour some in a bowl and add milk. Come noon, I toss a handful between two slices of Wonder Bread and chow. And for dinner, you ask? I add some to a wok with frozen veggies and wa-la! A plentiful feast, just like the pilgrims.

Okay, so maybe I don’t really eat candy corn for every meal. But the point is, I could, and I’d be happy doing it. It doesn’t matter what kind of ‘corn either --pumpkins, autumn mix, and everything in between, candy corn is freaking delicious. With each bite of this delightfully sugary treat (thank you, corn syrup), the unique flavor combined with a touch of welcomed waxiness consumes your taste buds and becomes the savior to any mediocre holiday season. With each following bite, the lucky consumer is transported back to far-simpler Halloweens --perhaps that first-grade Halloween where you dressed as a pumpkin and waddled around the schoolyard with a paper Dixie Cup full of candy corn before the costume parade. Any sweet treat that has the ability to transport you back in time is a pretty good confection in my books. When I take a bite of a Christmas sugar cookie I rarely feel the warm, fuzzy nostalgia I so often associate with candy corn. The worst of October days can be remedied with a handful of the tri-colored confections, and they add a much-needed boost of festivity to the good days, too.

Anti Candy Corn

By: Jessie McCaw and Thomas Austin

Skeletons are a celebrated symbol of Halloween with creepy drawings, costumes and decorations used to make an atmosphere spooky. So what better way to honor the season than to eat skeletons? You can have the melted bones, tendons and skin in colorful, sugar flavored bites by feasting on candy corn. This traditional candy contains gelatin, which is a protein derived from the scraps of animals’ body parts, that is then mixed with sugar, corn syrup, oil and salt. These “bone snacks” are the perfect candy to leave out in a decorative bowl since no one will touch them, and they can spend the weeks leading up to Halloween becoming harder until they match the consistency of popcorn kernels. These candied vegetable look-alikes are the perfect substitute for handing out real vegetables since they don’t taste particularly good but get into the spirit of the holiday and keep the local dentist in business. If you can get past the moral weight of eating the boiled scraps of rotting animals that are combined with more than the daily recommended amount of sugar, then maybe the grainy texture of Candy Corn is a good choice for you. 

Not convinced? Picture this: Halloween, 2010. You’re dressed up as a Despicable Me minion and your parents let you start trick-or-treating an hour early because they’ve been driven nearly to tears by your relentless, nonsensical babbling that is the very essence of your chosen identity for the evening. You won’t stop until the whole neighborhood is cleaned out of it’s candy stash and your pillowcase is so heavy you have to drag it home as if every last Milky Way means the world to you. Your band of disguised fourth graders dump out their candy on the living room carpet and get a hands on lesson in free market trading. You’re after Snickers®, but you can’t let anyone find out lest they realize they can run up the price and take your whole stash of Twix®. The first 10 minutes is a frenzy. Deals are being made at a speed only made possible by a collective king-sized sugar rush. The pace slows and you realize you have too much chocolatey candy and not enough of the fruit flavored stuff. You scour your hoard but you’ve already eaten your trading surplus and you have only one treat left to offer: Candy Corn. You’re through. Nobody wants candy corn. You can’t even trade it to the misguided kid who gave up all his 3 Musketeers for a few Mounds. You pop one in your mouth, hoping that you’ve been wrong, wanting so badly to believe that the orange and yellow abomination won’t cause your taste buds to retract into your tongue. No luck, it still makes you gag. You toss the rest of the junk candy in the bottom of your bag and hope it’s gone in the morning. There’s nothing scarier about Halloween than having to eat a piece of candy corn.