I probably wouldn’t qualify as a Subscription Box type of guy. In general I find myself always wanting to be precise about what I buy and because of that I typically never stray away from things I picked out myself. A friend convinced me to live on the wild side and not only pick out a box but even try candy I wouldn’t normally go for. So with a crazy impetus to try something foreign to my sheltered food world, I went full insanity. Sour. Candy Club here I come!
Now don’t get me wrong, I’ve had sour candy before. Well sort of sour at least. Sour Patch Kids for instance are sour for maybe a second before really you’re chomping straight into a jellied sugary sweetness. The sour part is negated pretty darn fast and really comparing that to what I was about to try was like being that person who brags about being able to handle Medium Salsa and then get tricked into some raging Jalapeno laced jar of fire.
The box arrives and immediately you see a nice card laying out the candy that awaits you.
The presentation with the three jars is pretty cool. I can actually imagine using these jars at your desk, loading them with candy to bribe co-workers to do tasks you require or in pure desperation, buying friendship. “Hey Jane! Look at what I have! Want to be friends?” “Nope.” (eats candy anyway)
This pack runs the gamut from exceptionally sweet to extremely sour. So we’ll work our way through our comfort zones.
On top of the box you’ll see
packing peanuts Sweet’s Cotton Candy Salt Water Taffy. Salt Water Taffy is usually impossible to mess up. Pretty much every flavor at least borders on good to great with some completely spectacular ones sprinkled in. At this point I am convinced the only way that Salt Water Taffy could go wrong is if someone purposely took a stroll to a dog park and wrapped you some individual presents.
The cotton candy taffy is no different. It does actually taste like Cotton Candy. That’s not a gimmie these days when Faygo is bottling a “Cotton Candy” pop that tastes like food dyed sugar water with carbonation. This though is creamy and smooth and the flavor brings you back to those days where you were far away from home – a ballpark, a circus, anyplace loud enough to drown out arguing children and to double down as a parent’s getaway. Also as far away from your own home as possible because chances that you had a cotton candy maker in your kitchen is pretty low… unless you happened to have family members working in a carnival that brought that stuff home. If so, sign all of us up to head there because funnel cakes on the regular, yo!
We move on to Albanese Mini Gummi Butterflies. Now I have had gummy worms, bears, and snacks that claimed to have dinosaurs but really had some warped melted mess that appeared to be a blob. Which maybe that is a dinosaur… a lazy, slow moving dinosaur? Either way I was excited to have this safe food and frankly having butterflies in my stomach for the first time since I met my wife seemed very appealing – especially knowing the challenge I was going to put myself through later.
Now if you’re like me you have your favorite colors/flavors. I am a red (cherry or strawberry)/green (lime) guy. If there’s a purple (representing grape?), awesome. Love that as well. I’m not particularly fond of orange and yellow (lemon). Mostly because they’re more tart. I open the jar and… well this is going to be a sour box after all. Orange and yellow as far as the eye can see (which is the bottom of a relatively modest jar – time to get my eyes checked).
Now the gummies themselves are terrific. Nice and soft, not like a gas station gummy bag that likely has been sitting there since 1997 hardening as a revenge on all of the people that passed it over for a Snickers bar. These were pretty nice and I must admit I plowed through them in a way that will probably make me require going on a diet or to a therapist in the near future.
Alright, it’s about to get real now (yeah butterflies – you were all FAKE). Dorval, which is a company that I must admit is new to me, makes these next two products. Dorval probably means “tongue remover” in some language that plagiarizes Latin. You’ll see why I say that in a second.
Actually the first one, the Sour Power Pink Lemonade Straws (the one on the right in the image above) wasn’t too bad. It was slightly stronger than a Sour Patch Kid but not entirely brutal to take in for the uninitiated wimp (yeah, me). The sour sprinkles (sugar?) on top is not too heavy and I think the lemonade follow up is the really tart taste here – it’s like lemonade without the sugar. These were much easier to handle than I thought they would be. If I had to grade this – what does one use to grade sour stuff? Pickles and…?? Okay this receives a grade of one pickle.
The next one though. Oh my goodness. The Sour Power Wild Cherry Belts (the one on the left in the image above) beat me. No questions asked, I was nowhere near prepared for how sour these were. I got through two and my eyes were watering and I needed water to wash them down. Sour Power is not really in question here as you need a taste bud surge protector for this sort of power. At first glance you bring them out and they look all innocent and then you realize you put this sandpaper like texture in your mouth and it’s loaded with so much sour that you’re prepared to scream curse words at those so-called Sour Patch Kids who like most kids, over exaggerate their awesomeness to unsuspecting adults and then when you take them at face value you are disappointed in them and yourself for not recognizing that you just were duped by a kid. Two pickles! At least. I don’t really know the scale here. Some pickle number more than one. Well not five, let’s not be ridiculous here.
All in all, I enjoyed the box. It got me to broaden my horizons a bit. I think personally a more enjoyable box for my specific tastes would be more chocolate based, though I do plan to see the other offerings on Candy Club and see what is the right fit for me. That’s the cool thing about this club. No secret passwords. No needing to fit a specific clique. The club is catered to you. It’s your private club. Which means you can choose whether or not your idea of a fun club requires what amounts to a dare with your tongue. I dared my tongue and it lost. Now I owe it something majorly sweet or it’s going to purposely mess with my steak dinners in the future. This isn’t a game to the tongue and you can only dare it so many times before it’s going rogue and eating everything you’ve ever hated.
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