3 Color Coconut – Not Something I Ever Need to Eat Again

I’m generally a pretty big fan of coconut in candy – Bounty, which is essentially a superior version of Mounds, is one of my favourites. But there are those who feel differently, such as Steve Almond, who described coconut as having a “creepy dead skin texture” (in his very entertaining book, Candyfreak). I can see what he’s saying with a complaint like that, though it’s not something that generally perturbs me. 3 Color Coconut, however, is drier and less sweet than the usual coconut candy, which makes the “dead skin” factor much more of an issue.

3 Color Coconut

3 Color Coconut contains three sections with three distinct flavours: strawberry, vanilla and chocolate. The strawberry section definitely has the strongest flavour, with a sweet, unmistakably strawberry taste. Vanilla is just plain, sweetened coconut – only it’s not very sweet, and it doesn’t have a particularly pronounced coconut flavour (leading to the flavour running out before you’re actually done chewing it, and to the aforementioned dead skin problem). The chocolate section has a weak, vaguely chocolatey flavour (there’s no cocoa or anything even resembling chocolate in the list of ingredients, so take from that what you will).

3 Color Coconut

The chocolate coating that you’d generally find in a coconut confection such as this (like Mounds or Bounty) is definitely missed here. It’s kind of dry and not particularly flavourful; while the three different flavours make this an interesting novelty, I can’t say it’s something I’ll ever buy again.

2 out of 4

Manufactured by: Friesinger’s Candies
Calories (71 g bar): 320

Pearson’s Milk Chocolate Bun: Maple & Roasted Peanuts – Not Enough Maple Flavour

Being a Canadian, it is hard-coded into me to enjoy anything with maple syrup in it. So when I saw this maple and roasted peanut “Bun”, it was pretty clear that I’d have to buy it (this was during a recent trip to the States – the Bun is, oddly enough, not available in Canada).

Pearson’s Milk Chocolate Bun: Maple & Roasted Peanuts

The Maple & Roasted Peanut Milk Chocolate Bun consists of a really soft, maple-flavoured fondant, topped with salted peanuts and covered in milk chocolate. It’s sweet – shockingly so, though once you eat a couple of bites you do get used to the unusually high sweetness level. The saltiness of the peanuts helps to offset the sweetness a bit, and their crunchiness compliments the soft filling quite well.

It doesn’t taste like maple syrup, though. Not even a little bit. If I hadn’t known that this was supposed to be maple flavoured, I never would have guessed. It’s probably a good thing that this isn’t sold in Canada; we take our maple seriously up here in the Great White North.

Pearson’s Milk Chocolate Bun: Maple & Roasted Peanuts

Other than the distinct lack of maple-ness, this isn’t bad. I wasn’t sure about it for the first bite or two, but it grew on me.

2.5 out of 4

Manufactured by: Pearson Candy Company
Calories (50 g bun): 240

Chunky – A Raisin-Lover’s Dream

Chunky isn’t sold in Canada and isn’t exactly a high-profile bar, so I hadn’t even heard of it when it was memorably referenced in an episode of Seinfeld (“I know the chunky that left these Chunkies!”). Of course, at that point I had to try it, and I do recall being somewhat disappointed in discovering that Newman’s candy-of-choice was so plain. It’s just chocolate, peanuts and raisins.

Chunky

Your enjoyment of this bar is highly dependent on whether or not you like raisins. It is extremely raisiny, with a very generous amount of raisins in each segment. Also, the milk chocolate seems to be imbued with the flavour of raisins, as the chocolate itself has a fairly pronounced raisiny/fruity flavour.

Chunky

There are also peanuts in there, which add subtle crunchiness as well as a slight peanutty flavour, however the star of the show remains the numerous raisins, along with the very sweet, slightly fruity chocolate. The whole thing is quite similar to Cadbury’s Fruit and Nut, though that is clearly the superior product; the chocolate is better, and it isn’t quite so overwhelmingly raisiny (okay, I’ll admit it – I’m not a big fan of raisins).

2.5 out of 4

Manufactured by: Nestle
Calories (40 g bar): 190

Goldenberg’s Original Peanut Chews – Deeply Nutty and Chewy

With some older candies, their continuing longevity is somewhat mystifying to me (the surprisingly unpleasant Necco Wafers being a prime example of this). However, in the case of Goldenberg’s Original Peanut Chews, I can definitely understand how they’ve managed to stick around all these years (since 1917, according to the packaging): they’re simple, satisfying and tasty.

Goldenberg's Original Peanut Chews

The Peanut Chews consist simply of a chewy, caramel-like molasses combined with crunchy roasted peanuts, and coated with a thin “dark chocolately” (ie. mockolate) coating. The mockolate seems to be purely aesthetic, as it doesn’t really contribute anything to the taste or the texture.

As for the main attraction of the bar, the molasses and peanuts: it’s quite good. It’s exceptionally peanutty, with a strong peanutty aroma and enough peanuts to ensure that the ratio of peanuts to molasses is something like 50/50. The whole thing is not very sweet at all, with a really rich, almost bitter flavour. It does, however, have a pleasantly sweet, somewhat honey-like aftertaste.

Goldenberg's Original Peanut Chews

I should note that the version I bought, purchased from the Cracker Barrel, features special, retro packaging. The one you’ll find in most stores is simply called “Peanut Chews” and features a much more contemporary-looking wrapper (which was the result of Just Born – the makers of Mike & Ike – purchasing the Goldenberg Candy Company in 2003).

3 out of 4

Manufactured by: Just Born
Calories (4 pieces, 47 g): 230

Duncans Original Ginger – An Unforgiving Assault of Ginger

Oh, the humanity.

First off, in the spirit of full disclosure I’m going to come right out and admit that ginger isn’t my favourite thing ever, even in savoury dishes. However, I have had the ginger/chocolate combination before, and I have liked it, so I’m not completely biased against anything with ginger. Ginger and chocolate is certainly a strange combination, however in the right proportions the ginger can give the chocolate an interesting and unique taste. In the wrong proportions… well, you have this bar.

Duncans Original Ginger

Unwrapping the chocolate, I was hit with a rather overwhelming aroma. I don’t know how to describe the smell other than to say it is like ginger put under a magnifying glass. That seemed like a bad sign to me, but I had hoped that this would be one of those things that smells stronger than it tastes. Nope! If anything the smell was subtle, comparatively speaking.

Eating this is like a ginger assault on your tastebuds. It is like being punched in the face by ginger – not just any ginger; the Evander Holyfield of ginger. You may as well just buy a ginger root and take a bite, though I’m not sure even that would be as overwhelmingly gingery. As for the chocolate, it has an unappealingly grainy consistency, and has to be one of the least creamy chocolates I’ve ever had. It’s sweet, without much of a cocoa taste at all (though that may just be the super-strong ginger obliterating any other flavours in the bar).

Duncans Original Ginger

I bought this at an import store for two or three bucks, and I’ve gotta say: I want my money back. This is literally the worst chocolate that I’ve ever eaten, and I say that as someone who has eaten a ridiculous amount of chocolate in his lifetime. I don’t think I can possibly overstate how gross this was. It actually nauseated me – I was only able to eat three pieces before my gag reflex started kicking in (actually that’s not true: I was on the verge of gagging right after the first mouthful. It was only after three pieces that I realized that life was too short to eat something so disgusting). It’s that bad.

Blech.

ZERO out of 4

Manufactured by: Duncans of Scotland
Calories (58 g bar): Unknown, not that it matters – this is unfit for human consumption