Nostalgic Candy: Vignettes by The Crimson’s Arts Board

Food has the ability to evoke distant memories, places, and people — allowing one to have immensely individual relationships with different foods that are rooted in their own experiences. This week, The Crimson’s Arts Board reflects on their favorite types of candy from childhood, and the memories that it brings to mind.

Trick or Twix!

By my eighth Halloween, I was tired of trick-or-treating for generic Snickers and Jolly Ranchers. I didn’t want another year of rationing the few precious Twix I typically received each year. I needed to come up with a way to maximize the number of Twix that landed in my trick-or-treat bag. After studious research, I stumbled upon the law of attraction, and I knew what my costume would be.

I was lucky enough to have a mother who made Halloween costumes for her kids every year, and she graciously humored my request. Several weeks later, I donned her masterpiece of felt layers, 3-D lettering, and a gold crown imitating the zigzag of a Twix wrapper. She even replaced the ingredients list of Twix with the words “sass” and “subtlety” running down my back.

As soon as neighbors spotted the bright red logo emblazoned across my chest, they got the hint. Watching my bag pile up with shiny bars of gold filled me with glee — the costume was working. Every Twix was accompanied by chuckles and compliments to my mother, whom I proudly credited.

As I sorted through my loot that evening, I invited my mom to partake in our winnings. Grinning, we each bit into our first Twix of the season, luxuriating in the smooth caramel, crunchy cookie, and the knowledge that there were plenty to go around.

—Staff writer Audrey H. Limb can be reached at audrey.limb@thecrimson.com.

A Tit for a Tat over Kit Kats

When I was younger, I loved all kinds of candy, but Kit Kats were a special favorite. While my brother also loved Kit Kats, he was otherwise my complete opposite. Every Halloween, our tradition was to end the night at my grandparents’ house. And, on Halloween, his picky habits catered to the food he got and ensured his trick-or-treat bag was filled with Kit Kats, while I often ended up with the leftovers.

One year, I was jealous and I stole the bag from my brother’s room, placing all the Kit Kats in my Halloween bag. In turn, he proceeded to weed out the Kit Kats from my Halloween bag, infuriating me. When I became upset and yelled at him for always getting the good candy, he finally understood my frustrations and shared the Kit Kats with me. Although our tradition of stealing Kit Kats from each other continues every year, we both knew that, if one of us asked, the other would share.

Kit Kats still are my favorite candy, and I love the variety of flavors. But whenever I taste the familiar chocolate wafer of the original, it reminds me of my brother and I coming to a compromise simply out of our attachment for each other as siblings — and just how similar we really are.

—Staff writer Neeraja S. Kumar can be reached at neeraja.kumar@thecrimson.com.

An Ode to Sour Skittles

For as long as I can remember, I’ve been obsessed with everything sour. When I was growing up, my dad would drive me to our local 7-Eleven every week, where I would always, without fail, rush straight to the aisle with the blinding green packs of Sour Skittles.

While original Skittles already offer the great rainbow assortment of five fun fruit flavors, ranging from strawberry to orange to grape, Sour Skittles always seemed to elevate my candy tasting experience with their additional sour sensation. The unique texture of Skittles, with the tough outer shell that can easily be broken down into multitudes creating an explosion of flavor in my mouth, also unrivaled any other candy that I ever briefly had a phase for in my childhood — including Sour Patch Kids and Warheads.

Perhaps due to my affinity towards sour foods, lime and lemon were consistently the first flavors of Skittles to disappear from my packs — so when lime was discontinued in 2013, I was devastated, going on a yearslong boycott from the candy until the flavor was brought back in 2021. Now that lime is hopefully a permanent part of the Skittles family, if I ever wish to relive my weekly sugar-full endeavors from my childhood, I reach for Sour Skittles — and, without a doubt, the lime green ones first.

—Staff writer Allison S. Park can be reached at allison.park@thecrimson.com. Follow her on X @allisonskypark.

Warheads: It’s in the Name

I don’t know who invented this candy, and who hurt them. Regardless, through the transitive property of the universe, they are now hurting us — and it tastes so good.

If you’re not familiar with Warheads, they can be summed up very accurately with one word: sour. And when I say sour, I mean forget every “sour” candy you’ve ever eaten. Airheads Xtremes? Nothing. Sour gummy bears? Not even close. No, Warheads are scrunch-up-your-face sour; They’re get-your-friend-mad-at-you-for-giving-them-one sour.

My suggested serving size is one. Of course, when young me had to decide what candy to bring to his MCAS standardized test in the fifth grade, he couldn’t resist bringing an entire bag of the stuff, with ensuing shock from classmates. His tongue was also enflamed by the end of the test.

If there were ever a candy that brought people together, it would be Warheads. Much like the painful joy of partaking in a particularly spicy dish with a friend, Warheads unite their enjoyers through suffering, and they actually taste quite good after the sourness wears off as well. So thank you, Warheads, for being the most disgusting, tasty, and ultimately fun candy to grace the shelves of CVS.

—Staff writer Alessandro M. M. Drake can be reached at alessandro.drake@thecrimson.com.

Korovka: Connection With Heritage

I’ve always had a big sweet tooth, and these caramel-flavored candies were the pinnacle of my childhood candy enjoyment. With a gooey caramel filling and a hard sugary shell, these candies are essentially a bite-sized dessert. My grandmother would have an abundance of these candies and always insisted that I took some home for my mom and me. These candies — entitled “Korovka,” the Russian word for “cow” — are one of the few ways I stay connected to my heritage.

Now, I love to read Russian and Ukrainian literature and have learned a lot about my own family through speaking to relatives in Ukraine — but as a child, I felt uninterested in these important parts of who I am. These candies were an accessible way for me to stay connected with my family. Most of my friends were also big fans of Korovkas and bringing them into class was a way for me to make friends. While my neighborhood was full of Eastern European immigrants and their children, I often found it difficult to make friends, so sharing candy with classmates was a great icebreaker. While I haven’t eaten these in a while, I look back fondly on the days when my grandmother would bring bags of candy home and I’d eat them in her kitchen with a warm glass of apple-flavored black tea.

—Staff writer Anna Moiseieva can be reached at anna.moiseieva@thecrimson.com. Follow her on X at @AMoiseieva.