Friday, September 24, 2004
Note: I will send a prize to the first person who can name both the song quoted in the title and the artist who sang it. Really!
If you have ever wondered if your fellow people still read books, if words have power, if lives can be changed by a single book, believe me when I tell you they can. I know this because I have 72 candy bars sitting under my desk, and I have Steve Almond to thank for putting them there.
For those of you who have not been within earshot of me for the past few weeks (note to self: what is the equivalent of earshot when you communicate via the ‘net? Fingertipshot?), the story is simple. I was on my way home from my Labor Day weekend adventures at Snowball’s house. I was on my second attempt to get home from Denver International Airport, having spent four hours there the previous day only to get bumped from my flight. I returned the next day only to find out that my plane would be two hours late due to a door malfunction at JFK. I was in that horrible travel state where I wanted to be at home or back at Snowball’s, but I didn’t want to be at points between. To kill the time, and to quiet my chattering nerves, I decided to browse at the bookshop at DIA.
I had no plans to buy anything, but it leapt up at me anyway: Candyfreak: A Journey Through the Chocolate Underbelly of America. It was one of those digest-sized books published by Algonquin Books of Chapel Hill, whose list I have been loving for years. It included jacket blurbs from Amy Sedaris and Nick Malgieri (who was the director of the pastry program at my alma mater) and Tom Perrotta and the righteous John Thorne. How could I say no?
Dear friends, I am so glad I didn’t, because Candyfreak is a wonder of a book, definitely the best work of nonfiction I’ve read this year and probably the best I will read for the next five. And I’m not just saying that because I’m a freak, too, a sucker for chocolate, a plump little grouse bird in love with her chains. Nor am I saying that because I have a crush on the author – although, let’s be frank, I do. (I haven’t been this crushy on an author since I read Consumer Joe).
I’m saying it because Candyfreak is about more than the pursuit and love of candy bars. It is also about fear and loneliness, creeping existentialism and fear of death. It is about the primal hold our own freaks, be they candy or bottle rockets or marijuana or reckless adventure sports, have on us; how we can’t use them to skirt the miseries of adulthood, but also how those miseries of adulthood can’t totally squash the thrill of a really good freak. It is about those screwups that are small in the grand scheme of things, but mammoth when you are going through them (like, say, losing your driver’s license on the eve of a tour of candy companies all over the country). It’s about meeting people who work at small, regional candy companies, who can’t begin to compete against the candy behemoths of Nestle, Hershey and Mars (who have rechristened their candy division with the howler name “Masterfoods”), who not only come to work to make the candy every day, but also find their jobs really, really neat. It is about pining for missed opportunities and lost loves, including but not limited to the Caravelle bar, the Choco-Lite bar and my own lost love from childhood, the Marathon bar. For those of you not familiar with the Marathon bar, it was a foot-long, inch-wide lattice of caramel, coated in milk chocolate. I don’t remember a caramel outside of a home kitchen that tasted nearly as buttery as that found in a Marathon. I do remember the little frisson of pleasure I would get when we visited the Cochecton General Store in Cochecton, New York, right over the Delaware River from our home in Damascus, PA, when I knew that I’d be allowed to get a candy bar, and I would hone in on the cluster of Marathons, dead center in the candy rack. The Marathon wrapper was bright red, with a huge yellow 70’s-appropriate font spelling out “Marathon” on the front of the wrapper and a ruler on the back. According to Steve Almond, any teenage boy who is given candy bar wrapper with a ruler on it will do only one thing with that ruler, but since I was a) eight years old and b) a girl, it never occurred to me to do anything like that.
You might think that I am overstating the case for Candyfreak. I am not. This is a book written by a thoughtful and principled and sharply funny and deeply intelligent fellow, one who acknowledges that candy is a nutritional vacuum food that manages to make children both hyperactive and obese; that food companies target children in ways that are less than principled; that sugar and chocolate are both produced under terrible conditions by some of the most exploited people in the world; and yet, and yet…and from there we are catapulted into the rest of the tale, that wonderful “and yet.” He went to Palmer Candy in Sioux City, home of the Twin Bing;to Boise, Idaho, home of the Idaho Spud and the mythic Owyhee Butter Toffee; to Kansas City, home of the Valomilk, which really is as good as its press would indicate. He went south to watch the production of Goo Goo Clusters, and he went to North Philadelphia for Goldenberg’s Peanut Chews, a candy that is ubiquitous from Boston to Virginia, so ubiquitous that people take it for granted and rarely actually buy it. (I’d always thought that it looked like candy for people who didn’t enjoy candy; then my stepdad bought me a bar, and I never looked back. If you live somewhere where you can’t buy Peanut Chews and you want to try them, I will buy you a bag and ship it to you, my treat to you. Seriously.)
If it weren’t enough that he went to visit all of these nifty places, and reminded us once more that there should be room for something besides Nestle, Hershey and Mars (sorry, Masterfoods), his turn of phrase is simply amazing. At the start of the final chapter, he finds himself at the end of the candyfreak journey, facing a hellish series of connecting flights, contemplating his return to teach writing at Boston College,
…where a group of students would be waiting for me with their eyes full of cigarette lust and their hearts shut tight as antique lockets, and it would be my job, presumably, to do something about this.
When I read this line, I thought of another teacher I know who had much the same group of students waiting for her. I bought her her own copy of Candyfreak to fortify her for the semester ahead.
Should I even go into what ran through my mind when I read his impromptu haiku, composed as he watched melted chocolate pour from a steel hopper at the Goo Goo Cluster factory?
Brown rivers released
From cold silver machines sing
for a stunned wet tongue
No, I don’t think I need to.
It was in this highly-charged state I found myself when I decided to explore some of the links in the Appendix. Ten minutes later, my candydirect.com order had been placed. Ten days later, I found myself the proud owner of a case of 24 Idaho Spuds (a little odd, but they’re growing on me fast, literally and figuratively), 24 Boyer Smoothie Cups (a peanut butter cup with butterscotch coating, not chocolate, also weird but successful) and 24 Abba Zabas (the clear winner of the bunch, a slab of white taffy filled with a peanut filling that has to be tried to be believed). If candydirect.com had not been out of Valomilks, I would have had 96 candy bars under my desk. No, I am not an unrepentant glutton; I am just stuck in a world where if you want to cultivate the offbeat and quirky and sweet, you might just have to buy it in quantity.
Fortunately, I have the easy solution to this. “Would you like some candy?” I say to coworkers, to friends, to Lloyd, a wide spectrum of different people in different contexts, but the light in their eyes, it’s all the same, and it’s all the reply I need.
MMmm candy… We found a great chocolatatory (hee - what’s the right word?) up in the Poconos. We go, we buy, we glut.
Hmmm… you’re the second person to recommend this book, so I guess I should be looking for it.
I, too, miss the Marathon bar, although I never used the wrapper in the manner implied. (Ahem.) These days I can’t seem to cope with the sugar as well as I used to, so I’m sorta out of the candybar loop. I would be remiss, however, if I failed to give a shout-out to the locally-made Mountain Bar, from the good folks who make Almond Roca.
As for the song quote, all I can think of (and I’m pretty sure it’s wrong, but what the hey) is “Rock Candy” by Montrose, sung by a much younger and beardless Sammy Hagar.
Bak, love, you know if you eat all that candy we’re going to have no choice but to get the beautiful and talented Receptionista to embroider you something with this logo.
Your post has convinced me that I absolutely HAVE to read Candyfreak. (Plus, will recommend to a friend who’s taking suggestions for the creative non-fiction class she’s teaching in the spring.) And Abba Zaba . . . what a fabulous name . . . how could one resist a candy bar called Abba Zaba?
...over here in ingerland we used to have a chocolate bar called marathon - it is now called *snickers* :^(…
...gotta lurve the globalisation of brand names…
...and are we allowed to use google to answer your question?...’cos all I can come up with is a track on “that 70’s show presents” called **** ***** by ******** - but that would be cheating wouldn’t it :^)…
Is it Led Zeppelin’s Candy Store Rock? Because that’s about the only thing my feeble brain can come up with that’s even close…
I can’t begin to describe how much I covet your Idaho Spuds!
That sonofabitch Steve Almond…
Reading Candyfreak (as I did a few months ago) may have been a mistake. I was getting along perfectly well in my life without ever having tasted a Valomilk cup or a Five-Star hazelnut bar. Ahh, but now...I am ruined! Ruined!
HG, you wouldn’t be talking about the Gertrude Hawk factory in Dunmore, would you? Odd that for all years I lived up there, I have no memory of actually eating any Gertrude Hawk chocolates, although I can still hear the radio jingle in my head.
Brown & Haley! Woo-hoo! Thanks, bmarkey. I am a mad fool for Almond Roca, even more so ever since I married a guy who grew up in Tacoma. One fun fact: Almond Roca is a big seller in the Chinese-American communities around here. The supermarkets in Chinatown, Sunset Park and Flushing all sell it in giant gift boxes, but I still like buying it in the tin, just to hear the whoosh of the vacuum seal breaking.
‘mouse, don’t make me come out there and smack you. Then again, that would probably just excite you. 
Artichoke Heart, so nice to see you here! Yep, this is definitely a good example of creative nonfiction, so I hope your friend uses it in class. I now have a brand-new Abba Zaba addiction, although I’m constantly afraid I’m going to pull out a filling. Abba Zabas are made by Annabelle Candy Co., who also make the Big Hunk and the U-No bar. They definitely have a flair for names.
billy, I remember seeing Marathon/Snickers bars on my first trip to Ingerland in 1989. I can’t remember if I told you this, but Mars—er, Masterfoods—has reclaimed the Marathon name and used it for the new line of Snickers “energy bars,” the kind marketed to athletes. Sheesh.
Snow, maybe I should send you a Spud to see if it’s your cup of tea. The marshmallow center is kind of grey and it has a texture kind of like tofu, which I believe is their use of agar agar, rather than gelatin, as a setting agent. The first time I tried it, I thought, “who would actively seek this out?” Then I thought, “is it too soon to have another?”
Steve, I understand and I sympathize. 
If I ever manage to get my hands on a case of Valomilks again, there will be a bunch with your name on them.
To everyone who guessed on the song: fabulous guesses all, but not the answer I’m looking for. I’ll give you a hint, though (and I will not consider it cheating if you go to Google): the song predates the 1970’s and was featured in a movie that was little seen in its day, but managed to achieve cult status when it was rebroadcast on tv. I’ll wait a few more days to post the answer for anyone who wants to take a bash at it.
I wasn’t going to play, as I had to Google “Rock Candy” to verify that it was performed by Montrose. With your permission, however…
When you add +movie to a Google search for “rock candy baby,” the answer jumps right out at you, along with lots of additional information. It’s “Rock Candy Baby,” by John(ny) Williams, sung by Dick Contino in the 1958 movie “Daddy-O.” It was John Williams’ first feature film credit. The TV “rebroadcast” was an episode of Mystery Science Theater 3000. I’m guessing that’s where you know it from.
OH MY GOD, someone else who shares my love of the Marathon bar. How I pine for the caramelly stretchy never ending goodness of that candy.
Though I do crave the occasional big industry type candy bar, when I really want chocolate, nothing short of European will do. I treat myself every Christmas to a lot of European chocolate, best yet if filled with marzipan. Though I did receive some See’s Candies from a friend after the birth of GB, and damn, that was pretty tasty too.
Ding ding ding ding ding ding ding ding ding! Kimberly got it. Congratulations, you astute Googler, you. Today’s PTMYB prizes are your choice of a jar of lemon curd, a jar of damson jam (to be blogged about at a later date), a plum cake—basically a vanilla cake with Italian plums embedded in it, very simple, very tasty—or a sampler pack of the candy bars mentioned in this post. Send me an e and let me know what you’d like and where you’d like it sent, and I’ll take care of the rest.
A.K., I’m so glad to see there’s another marzipan fan out there; sometimes I think that you, Mrs. Goatwax and I are the only ones (but I know that there are more out there). About once every other year I make my own marzipan, but usually I just leave it to the professionals.
Och, I hit “send” too soon. Kimberly, I meant to say that you were right on all counts. I did see Daddy-O on Mystery Science Theatre 3000. It is truly a terrible, terrible movie (although I do have a soft spot in my heart for Dick Contino, particularly ever since I read James Ellroy’s short story “Dick Contino’s Blues” in Granta), and “Rock Candy Baby” is a terrible, terrible song. In one of the bumper sketches, Joel and the ‘bots sing a swell parody of it called “Hike Up Your Pants,” in homage to the high, high waistline on Dick’s trousers. ("So hike, hike, hike, hike your pants up/hike, hike, hike, hike your pants up...")
ah yes. idaho spuds. if memory serves . . . a chocolate marshmellow wadge coated in chocolate and covered with coconut? in sort of a loaf shape. oooh baby.
I read “Candyfreak” earlier this summer, and have been looking for unusual candies every day since, so it was great to hear from another of the converted ones! I’m in Peanut Chew territory myself. Glad to hear candydirect.com worked out - I’ve been eyeing that site and hoping to save up for a box one of these days....
Bakerina, I too, harbor very fond memories of Marathon bars. The way the chocolate would craze and flake off when you flexed that delicious rope. Now I am a sucker for Heath bars. The book sounds like a must-read.
Do you think that Abba Zabas are named after the Captain Beefheart song? That would make me like them all the more.
Someone brought up Uno bars. Had ‘em. Liked ‘em. Had ‘em frozen. Wow!
Freezing also improves Snickers bars too. Just don’t freeze them too deeply if you like all your teeth.
as the teacher in question who received a copy of candyfreak due to the generosity of dear Bakerina-Bakerina and I had the chance to sample abba zabbas, idaho spuds, and smoothie cups this friday. The idaho spud is to me as scary as Steve describes it (I mean a grey center involving seaweed as a main ingredient?)although I like the retro kitschy packaging. The best are the abba zabbas. I never thought I could like a candy bar without chocolate, but I have been won over.
Our next taste test will be goo goo clusters.
i am always fascinated by how same/similar foods are marketed/named/distrubuted in different countries - especially candy. the snickers/marathon thing, as billy mentioned. i used to know all the parallels, but i’ve been in the UK long enough to forget some of them. the US Milky Way is the same as the UK Mars Bar, but the US 3 Musketeers is the UK Milky Way.... and Nestle distributes General Foods cereals over here—it just seems weird to see “Nestle” on a box of Cheerios…
these Idaho spud things sound intriguing. I applaud their use of agar agar. as a veg, we shun gelatin. bummer for my kids, as so many sweeties have it in.
For me it brought to the surface long-buried episodes of freak behavior that involved spending up to 30 minutes at a time in front of a candy counter comparing the weights of all the candy bars to make sure I got the most for my money. The Marathon bar looked like a good buy, but appearances can be deceiving. What with all those gaps in the braid, it was actually not a contender for me because it was several hundredths of an ounce lighter than a Snickers.
Has this book made anyone else start obsessively perusing the candy aisles at convenience stores and gas stations? I’ve been doing that for several months now, mainly because I must must must find a Clark Bar.
I never bought one as a kid cuz who knew what it even was in that reddish wrapper and with its dull, nondescriptive name? I eventually learned that it was sort of a knock-off Butterfinger and lost even more interest in it. But Almond made the Clark bar sound so superior to the Butterfinger that I’ve been trolling the candy counter at every Plaid Pantry and Circle K that I see. No soap. Apparently, they are not to be found west of the Rockies.
actually Rozanne I was making that exact comment to bakerina on friday. Every time I pass a deli I find myself trying to see their entire candy selection without stopping or causing myself too much neck damage. To my delight I discovered that delion, the official deli of TISCH school of the arts, has an internation selection of candy bars including a greek chocolate bar that is just divine. Just don’t ask me how to spell the name.
OK, I had to come back...did someone say MARZIPAN?
Jeebis, now I’m going to want to write my own blogpost about candy...but after reading Candyfreak, what’s the point?
Bake, if you ever get your hot li’l hands on any Valomilks, I will warn you: Almond is spot on in his book when he says that there is no way to eat one without making a huge honkin’ mess.
Believe me, I’ve tried. And tried.
Say, anyone remember back when the Milky Way Midnight was called “Forever Yours”?
Oh, how I miss the Marathon bar! I wanted to offer to send you some Valomilks. I live about two miles from the factory, so they’re readily available at my grocery store. E-mail me with your address and they’ll be on their way…
I think your Marathon Bar must be the very same “Curly Wurly” in Aus. Do you have Cherry Ripes, Crunchie Bars and Violet Crumbles in the US?
Jenny, Curly Wurlies and Violet Crumbles seem like something Willy Wonka would manufacture.
I have an awful memory, but I think I do remember reading that Curly Wurlies are the Southern Hemisphere version of Marathons. At any rate, Curly Wurly would be a much better name for the bar--more descriptive and whimisical.
I also seem to recall seeing Violet Crumbles in a most unexpected place--a Chevron gas station in Portland, OR. Violet Crumbles do not sound appetizing at all; they sound like what’s left of Miss Havisham’s wedding bouquet. Are they any good?
Yes, Marzipan! How can anyone not be a fan of it? Some years back I discovered pistachio marzipan in Denmark, which, despite its cheesy artificial green coloring, is far superior to the regular marzipan made from almonds.
Does anyone else miss Wild Cherry Bubble Yum?
I remember back when I was little, chocolate bubble gum came onto the market for a brief period. It was even advertised on TV.
Look what I found:
http://www.oldtimecandy.com/curly-wurly.htm
Ah, I knew you had great taste, marzipan is a treat. And wow, you make your own? I haven’t been that brave yet.
Ahhhh, so many lovely candy discussions we could enter into. I’ll say it as well: Damn you, Steve Almond!
Jenny, the Curly Wurly is indeed a slightly smaller version of the Marathon bar. I found Curly Wurlies at the Nerve Center of All Things Chocolate, a/k/a Economy Candy, on the Lower East Side of New York. I have been known to buy a case at a time and clean them out in about three days, which is why I don’t buy cases of them anymore.
Kitty, thank you, thank you, thank you! I will e you my contact info. I have had Valomilks exactly once in my life, and I’ve been dreaming of how to get more—and how to eat them without getting them all over my chin, my bottom lip, my fingers, my shirt, etc., etc…
Rozanne, the Violet Crumble only sounds weird. I think it’s a brand of honeycomb toffee covered in chocolate, rather like a Cadbury Crunchie. It is instant sugar shock, but I love it. It’s basically made by making a caramelized sugar syrup and then throwing baking soda into it so it gets all foamy.
Dear friends, I simply must take a break for now, because I’m at work, where I should be writing estimate requests, but all I can do is dream of Goo Goo Clusters, Cow Pies and Wild Cherry Bubble Yum…
Ok, on the subject, maybe someone could point out the secret plot behind this one...
What is with candy bar weights? I mean, check out most snacks today and they have weights like 1.73oz, or .932oz, or even the new M*Azing (M+M candy bar) is 1.52oz or 43.1!! grams. What unit of measurement does this evenly round off too—what is with these fractions?
I know the weights have gone down since I was a kid, but huh?!
All Xocai chocolate is cold pressed which means it maintains much more of it’s nutritional value than in any other chocolate I am personally aware of. For those who would like to be paid to eat chocolate their is an option available for that as well.online flowers
What is with candy bar weights? I mean, check out most snacks today and they have weights like 1.73oz, or .932oz, or even the new M*Azing (M+M candy bar) is 1.52oz or 43.1!! grams. What unit of measurement does this evenly round off too—what is with these fractions?
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I have to say that I fully enjoyed your article and I thank you for that. I know the feeling of wanting to get home faster sometimes and I truly understand what you said there.
I’ve read this year and probably the best I will read for the next five. And I’m not just saying that because I’m a freak, too, a sucker for chocolate, a plump little grouse bird in love with her chains. alcohol rehab
Thank you so much! I also spent a lot of time looking for this find good article for babe until I found you! I love your writing style and im really happy to be your fan. keep those posts coming.
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MMmm candy… We found a great chocolatatory (hee - what’s the right word?) up in the Poconos. We go, we buy, we glut.