Hershey’s Kisses and Candy Corn are magnificent sweets independent of one another. But what happens when the two are fused into one? Voila – the Candy Corn-flavored Hershey’s Kiss!
As I approached the check-out counter at my local Target, I fell victim to the ol’ product placement trickery. There they were – bags of the newly-issued Hershey’s Kisses, staring at me, piquing my curiosity, moving to “splurge” when I had only planned on buying a shirt. How, I wondered, could those translucent, sugary corn kernels become those dense, creamy Kisses? Had Hershey’s gone too far?
My answer: yes. Candy Corn and Hershey’s Kisses should have remained candy colleagues.
When you first unwrap the Candy Corn Kiss, the triad of candy corn colors is visually appealing to some degree – yes, these are those familiar Halloween colors attractively wrapped around the trademark Kiss. But after another moment of thought, you realize that, hey, wait a minute, those colors represent chemicals, not flavors. It becomes sickeningly apparent that what you are about to eat is only a Kiss bathed in red lake 1.
You pop the Kiss in your mouth, not sure what to expect. A flavor more weighted toward chocolate? Toward candy corn? The flavor can best be described as indistinguishably “sugary,” though erring a bit more on the side of chocolate. There are definite notes of white chocolate, likely attributed to the white base, but beyond that, the flavor just tastes too sweet. The texture is unmistakably that of a traditional Hershey’s Kiss, which is why, perhaps, this Kiss is so disappointing. Part of the joy of Candy Corn lies in its unique texture – a little chewy, a little granular if left over from Halloween ’04. The creaminess of the Kiss is best suited to chocolate.
Let it be stated that I do appreciate some of the Hershey’s Kiss variations of late: most notably, dark chocolate and white chocolate. But if I really want chocolate and peanut butter in the same bite, I’ll reach for a Reese’s cup. Similarly, the Caramello bar has the chocolate and caramel combo perfectly nailed. Fruit flavors, even nuts, which by their very presence reduce the chocolate content of each Kiss, are not welcome additions to the Hershey’s Kiss family, in my mind, Hershey’s Kisses are small, bites of chocolate; their size was not meant to handle a complex flavor assortment and do it justice. The Candy Corn Kiss perfectly exemplifies the modern tendency toward product over-development. Too many flavors, too decadent, too far removed from its objective: pure, chocolaty goodness.
Bottom line: just buy the bag of candy corn – or my personal favorite, the “autumn mix.” Candy corn always tastes best during the fall season, anyway. Justify it as yet another seasonal indulgence. And appreciate Hershey’s Kisses in their purest, and best, state: milk, dark, or white chocolate.
