You know from time to time I get to use this column to perform a
great public service. OK, maybe not a great public service, but a
public service nonetheless. And what, you may ask is this public
service I’m about to perform?
You know from time to time I get to use this column to perform a great public service. OK, maybe not a great public service, but a public service nonetheless. And what, you may ask is this public service I’m about to perform?
I’m about to tell you all about the ins-and-outs, the do’s-and-don’ts of picking your Halloween candy. Oh, sure it doesn’t sound like a big public service, but trust me it is. You have no idea what it’s like when you hand out the wrong thing on Halloween. Those children who look so cute in their costumes will turn on you like a pack of wild animals when they see you handing out sunglasses or, worse, sugar-free gum.
Do not ever hand out toothbrushes.
Look, I don’t care if you are dentist. If you have children and you value their lives, do not hand out toothbrushes on Halloween. For years afterward, your children will be taunted and teased with cries of, “Look, there’s toothbrush boy,” or “Hey over there, it’s brushy girl; brushy, brushy, brush, brush.” Trust me, you don’t want to put your kids through that. It’s tough to get over.
Contrary to what the Raisin Board says, raisins are not nature’s candy.
This is Halloween. Nobody wants your icky old raisins, which I might add are horrifying, wrinkled up things that are really rotten grapes in disguise – even if you cover them in chocolate. Trust me, I know these things. I grew up in the Raisin Capital of California. We know from old, rotten grapes. They cannot be mistaken for candy on any planet. And I know I shouldn’t have to say this, but the same thing goes for prunes. People, these are not a fruit in themselves. They are rotten, old plums that somebody forgot to pick. And they have side effects we won’t go into here.
Do not hand out anything with the words ‘all natural’ or ‘good for you’ on the wrapper.
This is very similar to the raisin issue. It’s Halloween. Nobody wants to eat anything that is good for him or her, not even the parents. Seriously, we don’t. Why do you think we check all the candy? It’s not because we’re looking for razor blades, we’re looking to score all the full-sized chocolate bars before the kids eat them. And even we don’t want any all-natural fruit roll things cluttering up the sugar high.
Candy corn isn’t fun corn, it’s icky candy.
Look, even sugary sweets have a hierarchy. And in the Halloween candy hierarchy candy corn is gross. And icky. And quite possibly the only candy nobody really wants to eat. Informal studies conducted in my kitchen have shown candy corn is always the last candy to be consumed. And mostly it’s eaten when there’s absolutely, positively no other candy left on earth. Yes, that’s how icky candy corn really is.
Bottlecaps are weird
Who invented these things? What fool in his right mind said, “Hey, let’s allow kids to pretend they are eating hard pieces of metal usually used to prevent soda bottles from leaking? And while we’re at it, let’s make this candy taste like the kids are eating real bottle caps also.” I think I speak for the entire country when I say, “blech.”
Strange, squishy peanut candy
I don’t even know what this stuff is called, but you know that strange, orange candy that’s shaped like a peanut? Whatever it is, it’s gross. You take the risk of having your house egged Nov. 1 if you serve these things. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.
So what can you safely hand out to the ghosties, ghoulies and goblins on Halloween? Well, anything chocolate (except, of course, the aforementioned raisins) goes over well. As does anything that in one serving exceeds the recommended daily allowance of sugar. But you know, I’d go with the chocolate. You can’t go wrong with a good Hershey product.
