
The annual discourse surrounding the divisive seasonal candy, candy corn, has ignited once more as Halloween tiptoes closer. This tri-colored sweet, emblematic of a rich autumnal palette with its vibrant white, orange, and yellow hues, attracts both ardent advocates and dedicated detractors. The key points of contention often revolve around its unique texture, likened by some to plastic or wax, and the intense wave of sweetness it unleashes.
For comedian Shannon Fiedler, the appeal of candy corn is unarguable. Even though she acknowledges the general consensus that labels candy corn “kind of gross,” she revels in the candy’s spectacular sugariness and its curious texture, consumed just once a year during the fall season. She amusingly posits, “That’s what makes it good.”
Such is the divide about candy corn that Paul Zarcone, a New Yorker, admits to an increased affection for it precisely because many despise it. Despite acknowledging its candle-like appearance, Zarcone remains a staunch proponent of the controversial candy.
Brach’s, the leading brand in the candy corn market, reportedly produces approximately 30 million pounds of this candy for the autumn season each year. Astoundingly, this vast quantity of candy corn could encircle our planet about five times over. Yet, in the grand scheme of the confectionery world, candy corn remains somewhat of a specialty item in comparison to the giants in the sector, such as the top chocolate sellers.
Still, candy corn’s ubiquitous presence during the fall season has made it a distinctive cultural icon, spawning numerous social media memes, inspiring fashion and home decor, and infiltrating various food items, from trail mixes to cupcakes.
This candy isn’t just a polarizing element during Halloween, it has been repurposed in unexpected ways, from festive sneakers by Vans, color schemes on Nike’s Dunk shoes, to an iteration of Kellogg’s Corn Pops cereal.
Known for their inclination towards innovation, Brach’s has experimented with an assortment of flavors over the years. A Turkey Dinner mix that tasted like a full course meal was launched in 2020 but was discontinued after two years despite its novelty.
Despite having a straightforward ingredient list, which primarily consists of sugar, corn syrup, confectioner’s glaze, salt, gelatin, and honey among others, candy corn has a perplexing characteristic that seems to divide crowds. It’s either a flavor and texture completely loved or absolutely despised.
For ardent fans like Margie Sung, the ritual of consuming candy corn involves a unique approach. She prefers to eat the layers of the candy one by one, starting from the white tip, alongside a warm beverage, insistent that each color tastes different.
A different narrative is espoused by Aaron Sadler, an unrepentant candy corn devotee who savors his candy corn privately, buying it at discounted prices post-Halloween and continuing the indulgence till mid-November. Others, like Lisa Marsh, prefer their candy corn mixed with roasted peanuts, while a few even hoard their supply for year-round consumption.
Amongst the critics, Jennifer Walker dismisses candy corn as “big ole lumps of dyed sugar,” whereas Abby Obenchain memorably compares a bowl of candy corn to a heap of old, uprooted teeth.
Savannah Woolston, however, offers a unique take on candy corn, elevating it beyond the confines of mere candy. To her, it is a symbolic representation of the fall season, just like pumpkin spice lattes and woolen sweaters. As the young Washingtonian poignantly puts it, “And I will die on the hill that it tastes good.”