When I was a kid, my candy preferences consisted of the longest-lasting candies I could afford on my meager candy allowance. But when I felt like splurging, that splurge was often Bridge Mixture.

To my childhood self, there was something sophisticated about Bridge Mixture – the mixture of dark and milk chocolate coatings, the way that you never quite knew which filling you were going to get, just like in a “grown-up” box of chocolates, the fact that it was named after a complicated grown-up card game at a time when I only knew how to play Old Maid and Crazy Eights.

Bridge Mixture seems to evoke a love-it-or-hate-it response in people, so I vowed to track down the elusive candy and see if it lived up to my childhood memories. But first, a little background info. Bridge Mixture, for those of you who don’t know, is nothing more than an assortment of chocolate-coated centers – caramel, a selection of fondants, peanuts and raisins, and two flavors of what the Internet calls “Turkish Delight,” but has always seemed to me like a pretty standard jelly. (Note that they have no relation to the Licorice Bridge Mix we’ve previously reviewed.)

Read More »

Ok, confession time: I’m not into the whole organic/natural food thing, for two main reasons. One, I don’t believe in quick-fix solutions to the complex health, environmental and sociological issues that plague today’s food industry; and two, I just love my artificial flavors and colors too darn much. After all, the candy aisle would be a pretty boring place without them.

Still, the idea of a candy that’s truly guilt-free (I’m talking eco-guilt, not calorie-guilt) remains a tempting one, even if it’s just an illusion. So when I noticed a display of products from Shopper’s Drug Mart’s new organic line, Nativa, it was naturally the candy that jumped out at me. Though Nativa also makes organic gummy bears and fruit gummies with natural flavors and colors, it was the cola bottles (or “soda bottles,” as they’re called on the bag) that grabbed me.

Now, gummy cola bottles are among my all-time favorite candies, especially the sour variety. (Confession number two: I once ate an entire industrial-sized tub of sour cherry cola bottles from Costco – AND I’D DO IT AGAIN.) So I was very curious as to how the organic variety would stack up to the real thing. At $2.99 for a 100 g bag, they were pricey (a common problem with organic foods), but I decided to give them a try.

Read More »

Here in Canada, something strange has been happening to the packages of Sour Patch Kids, Fuzzy Peaches, and an array of other familiar gummies. They’ve gotten package updates that prominently feature the name Maynards – a very minor branch of Trebor Bassett known only for making Wine Gums, hardly the most popular of candies.

Fortunately for gummy lovers, this rather baffling marketing decision has also led the way for a number of new Maynards gummy products, including Juicy Squirts, fruit-flavored gummies with a juicy center. They sound like a good idea in theory, but in the past, I’ve found them somewhat lacking in the execution.

Read More »

Around here, when you’re eating Thanksgiving dinner with your grandparents and someone passes around a box of chocolates, it’s likely to sport the familiar purple and gold wrapper of Purdy’s.

Purdy’s, which has been around since 1907, is a fixture in the provinces of Ontario, Alberta and British Columbia. It’s one of those mid-range chocolate companies that’s definitely a cut above the likes of Hershey or Nestle, but isn’t selling single-origin curry-flavored bars for $12 apiece either. It’s upscale yet nonthreatening, the kind of chocolate that your average Joe is comfortable buying for a Christmas gift or a dinner party with the boss.

In addition to gift boxes and filled chocolates by the pound, Purdy’s also does a very nice selection of chocolate bars, at least one of which I can usually count on finding in my Christmas stocking or on top of a birthday gift. In my mind, Purdy’s chocolate is inextricably connected to special occasions, so it felt very extravagant to simply walk into the store and pick out something for myself. I settled on a half-remembered item from Christmas stockings past, the Chocolate Chewie.

Read More »

Back in 1996, a new candy appeared on the scene here in Canada. They were created by two guys from Winnipeg, Chris Emery and Larry Finnson, who decided to try marketing their Grandma’s candy recipe. They were an overnight sensation, and today they’re found on store shelves everywhere next to the big boys like Werthers’ and Starburst. The name? Clodhoppers.

According to the Phrase Finder website, clod hopper is a very old term for “a rough, unsophisticated countryman” or, more recently, a pair of ploughman’s boots. Clods, of course, refers to clods of dirt. What kind of candy names itself after a lump of dirt? A darn good one, as it turns out.

Read More »