Thursday, April 20, 2006
It’s not that I’ve never had Chuckles, but it’s been a very, very long time. I don’t actually know who eats Chuckles. It’s not me. And it’s pretty hard to figure it out because I never see them being sold, let alone being eaten.
The last time I remember seeing them was in a vending machine on the campus of Kent State University in the basement of the building where my father worked ... this would be around 1978. I probably bought them. I loved that vending machine, it was super-cheap and sometimes dispensed two candy bars, it was like a slot machine! (Except when you win candy you can’t really stuff it back in the coin slot to try to win more.)
What sets this flavor assortment apart is the first one:
Licorice - light and refreshing, a completely different experience from the doughy/molasses experience of black licorice vines. The licorice isn’t overpowering but nice and smooth.
Cherry - this is one of the worst and for lots of personal reasons. It reminds me of medicine, like so many of those cough potions and penicillin elixirs of my youth, I just can’t bring myself to like cherry that much. This is sweet and strong and has a slight bitter, poison note to it that I’m never sure is the color or the actual cherry flavor.
Orange - wonderfully zesty without much of a tart hint to it at all. It was so orangy that it left a slight burning tingle to the inside of my lips. Maybe Chuckles can be called the Altoids of jelly candies?
Lemon - zesty, light and sparkly. The zest actually lends a little bitter note in the middle to this one, but I don’t mind it a bit because it reminds me of real lemon rinds.
Lime - well, there’s always the underdog in every flavor mix and lime is it here. It’s everything you’d expect from a circa 1920 lime candy - the essence of a clean floor. It’s kind of sad that the fabulous flavor of lime was co-opted by the cleaning moguls, but there you have it, for at least two generations the scent of lime just can’t be separated from the smell of a clean bathroom. Even with all its baggage, I still ate the whole piece (not true with the cherry one) and wondered what was so bad with associating a piece of candy with sparkling tiles?
Now, I like jelly candies. I do find myself pining for Spearmint Leaves and Orange Slices from time to time, but I don’t really care for buying a half pound of them, which is usually how they’re sold. But then again, when I want Spearmint Leaves, Chuckles aren’t going to scratch that itch and maybe if I’m in the mood for citrus, I’m not going to want that licorice or cherry. The point is, no one else sells a single serving of jelly candies like this and these are really good versions of a jelly candy because the flavors are so intense. Now I’ve gotten myself all worked up and I’m a little sad they don’t sell these around here.
POSTED BY Cybele AT 6:13 am
Meticulously photographed and documented reviews of candy from around the world. And the occasional other sweet adventures. Open your mouth, expand your mind.