2024 Halloween treats · Halloween · Halloween candy

The Revenge of Frédéric Brochet

Ah, it’s that magical time of the year again. And I refer, of course, to the brief period near the end of summer when manufacturers of all manner of cookies, candies, breakfast cereals, and even, it seems, catfood will temporarily re-configure their products with some kind of nod to Halloween. The most notable and delicious example of this is the annual reappearance of Halloween Oreos.

Attentive readers will recall my earlier review of Halloween Oreos, in which I asserted Halloween Oreos are the most delicious Oreos of all. Now, I know there are some naysayers out there who disagree, claiming that there is no difference between the taste of regular Oreos and the Halloween version. But what do you have to back up that heresy? I mean, other than some vague comment about “same great taste” on the packaging?

2025 edition is now available!
…and the packaging glows in the dark!

Now, I’m willing to admit that the only difference, ingredients-wise, in the Halloween Oreo is the addition of a little orange food coloring, which is essentially flavorless. But that’s totally missing the point. There is so much more to taste than mere flavor. The spooky Halloween shapes, the Halloween-themed packaging, and most of all the pumpkin-orange filling all contribute to the full taste experience (what people in the business call “FTE”).

OK, I totally made up that part about the term “FTE.” But there is sound science backing up how appearance affects perceived taste. In 2001 a French neurophysiologist by the name of Frédéric Brochet added flavorless red food coloring to white wine, which had an enormous effect upon how professional wine tasters perceived the wine. Similarly, a 2007 experiment presented school kids with identical food, some of which was wrapped in McDonald’s packaging and some that was in generic packaging. The kids preferred the taste of the food in the branded packaging. And then, in 2015, Italian researchers found that the perceived sweetness of a dessert was affected by the color of the plate on which it was served. I’m not making any of this up.

So, yes, our enjoyment of a food depends in part upon its appearance. Ergo, Halloween Oreos can taste better than regular ones! QED.

NEWS BULLETIN: Loyal reader and favorite daughter-in-law Katelyn informs me that this year Nabisco is also releasing a second, alternate version of their Halloween Oreos, with both orange and green creme in the middle. Heart be still! I have been methodically combing the grocery aisles in the greater Placerville area to find a package, but so far have come up empty-handed. Please report any sightings to this blog.

Wanted: Dead or Alive

Anyway, I say all this by way of introduction to Krispy Kreme’s new Harry Potter donuts. I’m not sure if these are meant as Halloween offerings, or perhaps just a back-to-school promotion, but either way I find them captivating and intriguing. And I say this as someone who has never read a Harry Potter book or watched a Harry Potter movie. Seriously.

In fact, the only reason I know about this is because loyal reader Sara S alerted me, noting that they seemed right up my alley. Right you are, Sara!

They look good enough to eat!

So, I really have no choice but to get me some. The nearest Krispy Kreme is about an hour away, but this is the kind of sacrifice that I regularly make for my loyal readers. And thus it was that this weekend I found myself standing in line for some of these “House of Hogwarts”™ donuts.

Sadly, they were out of the Gryffindor donut (whatever that is), but I was able to nab one each of the Slytherin, Hufflepuff, and Ravenclaw donuts (whatever those are). Now, from a quick Google search (which may or may not be correct), it seems that the four “houses” are essentially dorms where the students at the Hogwarts school are housed. Each “house” supposedly is characterized by specific personality traits. Oh, and the job of assigning new arrivals to the houses is done by a “sorting hat.” And Krispy Kreme even has a special “sorting hat” donut, which will reveal your house by the color of the creme inside. Alas, my (semi-) local Krispy Kreme was out of the sorting hat donut as well. So I ended up with these three donuts:

Now, to return to our central thesis: I find these donuts to be highly tantalizing. They are bright and colorful, have a variety of textures, and those little crests on them are well-executed and unusual. It makes me wish I knew what the hell it all meant! But at the very least, I find these donuts to be playful and attractive and therefore worth trying.

I started with the Hufflepuff donut. It’s a heavily-iced donut with a custard center:

Now the advertising copy says that the filling is “brown butter toffee flavored custard,” which sounds delicious. But when I tried it, it tasted like the basic custard filling of the Boston creme donuts you find at the local AM-PM. Now, the Hufflepuff donut is also sprinkled with “cookie crumbles,” but this “feature” seemed more like the unintentional crumbs from poor storage practices. Meanwhile, the crest, which admittedly looks really cool, is NOT a white chocolate wafer (as I had hoped), but rather seems to be have been fashioned from a dried-out Gummy Bear that had been pounded flat with Harry Potter’s wand. Overall, this donut tasted OK but it was nothing special. Moving on.

The “Ravenclaw,” according to Krispy Kreme, is “gracefully dipped in a vibrant blueberry flavored icing that offers a burst of fruity flavor.” The copy-writers seem to have understood that “blueberry-iced donut” doesn’t really justify a cost of $3.59. So they decided to say it’s “gracefully dipped.” What does that even mean? And how does it affect either the flavor or the appearance? What we have here, folks, is a blueberry-iced donut. And it’s available at your local grocery store for 99 cents.

At this point, having consumed literally 600 calories (according to the “nutrition information” on the menu), I was heading into a food coma–so I let my brother Dave eat the Slytherin. He responded with a shrug.

So, what have we learned?

  1. Appearance can definitely enhance the taste of a Halloween treat, such as Halloween Oreos.
  2. But there’s a limit to how much appearance can compensate for a mediocre recipe.
  3. Perhaps understanding the references to Harry Potter lore and storylines would have salvaged the House of Hogwarts donuts. In other words, maybe the visuals can’t fully do their thing if I don’t know what I’m looking at.

Anyway, there is this new treat to look forward to this year, and this time I get the reference!

“180 FABULOUS calories! Hah, ah, ah!”

2024 Halloween treats · Halloween candy

Beignets and Broomsticks

The Missus and I have an event to get ready for this afternoon, and I’m helping a neighbor with a fence project this morning, so I got up at zero dark thirty to make the half-hour drive out to a promising donut shop to take care of the Treat of the Day. (It’s all for you, gentle reader!)

Anyway, when I arrived at Heavenly Donuts in Cameron Park, they were doing a brisk business. When I got to the front of the line I asked the smiling donutier (that’s what you call him, right?) for something related to Halloween. Puzzled look. “You know, like maybe orange and black frosting? Or shaped like a pumpkin? Or with a blood-colored filling?” I received the same puzzled look, then: “Not exactly. But we have beignets.”

I decided to abandon this effort and try another donut vendor….but not before I snagged a couple of crullers. (A man’s got to eat.)

Next stop was a place called Fork Lift, which is a grocery store with an impressive bakery. Once again, I was shut out on Halloween donuts, but they did have Halloween cupcakes. I selected one with a witch’s hat and took it back to the Chasing Phantoms testing labs. So here we go:

Conceptual Soundness: There something really minimalist about this. It’s just a plain old vanilla cupcake with a hat plopped onto it. But the hat is immediately recognizable as a witch’s hat, and it clearly dominates this treat. It’s iconic and evocative, and it seems to suggest a story just by sitting there. I’m smitten. 4 points.

Appearance of the Treat: In a word, it’s adorable and festive. (OK, that’s two words.) And it’s not just me. The person who packaged it up for me gushed about how skilled the baker is with the hat. “It’s amazing how she gets the shape just so!” The cashier who took my money was similarly bewitched (ha!) by the cupcake. And when I got home, even the Missus, who hasn’t make a habit of encouraging me on this month-long treat journey, acknowledged that the cupcake was cute. You have to admire both the design (pointed, listing witch’s hat complete with buckle) and the execution (patient and skilled). On top of all that, they package it up in a plastic container so it can survive the journey home. (Recall that the apple-caramel cookie I got the other day was just stuffed in a bag.) So I really need to give this cupcake the full 4 points.

Sealed for Safety (TM)

Taste: Now, I assumed the witches hat was made of some kind of marshmallow. It sure has that texture and appearance. I was looking forward to getting a mouthful of that flavored marshmallow goodness combined with the vanilla cake base. So imagine my disappointment when I discovered that the entire witch’s hat is made of black frosting.

Serving size: 1 cupcake. Total calories: 1 billion.

Now, I have nothing against frosting per se, but this cupcake has far more frosting than cake. The frosting completely dominates, coating your tongue, getting between your teeth, gumming up the small amount of cake comes with each proportional bite. The last time I experienced anything like this was when I was nine and I ate a large can of pre-mixed Betty Crocker chocolate frosting with a neighborhood friend who stole it from his mom’s cupboard. Bottom line: This cupcake has sacrificed taste on the altar of cuteness. Zero points.

Value: One of these cupcakes costs $3.50. That’s not bad for a well-decorated cupcake. But unless you’re planning to harvest the copious frosting and transfer it to the top of a birthday cake, there’s really no value in this inedible cupcake. Zero points.

Total Treat Score: 8 points/16 points.

And “Altar of Cuteness” would make a great title for a Prog-Rock album.

MAIL BAG

In response to yesterday’s review of “Missing Body Parts,” loyal reader Detlef K. shared this image of a (revolting) charcuterie board for your next Halloween party. Enjoy!

On second thought, I think I’ll skip the appetizers.

2024 Halloween treats · Frankenstein movies · Halloween · Halloween candy

I Ain’t Got No Body….

One of my favorite movie scenes comes from Mel Brooks’ Young Frankenstein:

It’s kind of a contrived and corny gag, but it’s no less fun because of that. Plus, the more times you watch Young Frankenstein, the funnier and more lovable it becomes. Try it!

I was reminded of that scene as I drove past this Halloween decoration (?) this morning.

The curlers are a nice touch…

I was heading to the historic town of Folsom (pop: 82,000) to meet a friend for lunch. After a bratwurst on a pretzel bun (which, the tavern wench [her words, not mine] assured me, was their seasonal specialty) I walked across the street to Snooks Chocolate Factory. Here I asked the friendly proprietor what they had in the way of Halloween treats. I was led to a display case with two promising options: one was a chocolate in the shape of a bat, and the other was a small bag of “missing body parts.” Sticking with the theme of the skeletal recycler (who’s clearly missing numerous organs), I went for the missing parts.

Once I got home I then submitted the “missing body parts” to the rigorous testing you’ve come to expect here at Chasing Phantoms. So let’s get into our review.

But how can they be “missing” if they’re right there in the bag?

Conceptual Soundness: As you know, gummies (also called “jelly sweets” for our British friends) are jiggly, sticky, chewy little candies made out of gelatin. The first ones date back to 1864, when a company named Fryers of Lancashire made something called Unclaimed Babies, which during World War I became “Victory Unclaimed Babies.” I am not making this up. I’m guessing these were the precursors to today’s Sour Patch Kids.

Today gummies are frequently manufactured into revolting shapes (worms, spiders, fish…) They are also often powerfully flavored as sour, hot, licorice, fruit, etc. So, they’re a versatile canvas for a Halloween treat. I suppose making them into little “missing body parts” (brains, eyeballs, fingers) is a decent nod to Halloween. And by “decent” I mean 2 points.

Appearance: On the positive side, these are realistically rendered. The eyeballs are bloodshot, the brains have lots of convolutions, the fingers have well-defined cuticles. I think both the molding and coloring processes are top-notch. My only objection is that the fingers are colored red, yellow, and green, which seems like an odd choice. Overall, though, it’s a gross and revolting collection of body parts, which is of course what they were shooting for. 3.5 points.

Taste: Here’s my suggested slogan: “They taste as revolting as they look!” And by “revolting” I don’t mean really sour or spicy like some gummy candies. Instead these taste like very-slightly-sweetened hacky sacks. And they leave behind a lingering sensation like you’ve just been chewing on a wad of wax paper. It makes me wish my “missing body part” was my tongue. No points.

Value: A small 4-oz bag costs $4.50. This isn’t out of the question for a specialty candy shop. But I do think my money would have been better spent on the chocolate bat. I’ll give the value 2 points.

Total Treat Score: 7.5 points/16 points. So they don’t make good for an especially Halloween treat. But maybe they can be repurposed…

2024 Halloween treats · Halloween · Halloween candy · Halloween Cocktails

House of Wax

So, I was talking to Vincent Price’s daughter the other day…

I just couldn’t resist the name-check, though of course I’m simply referring to Poe Fest in Baltimore, where I managed to corner her for a few minutes.

Anyway, as attentive readers will recall, Victoria Price introduced her father’s 1964 Edgar Allan Poe flick, “The Masque of the Red Death,” at Poe Fest. I can’t say I was overly impressed with the movie, which I found to be lurid, garish, and unsettling. Don’t get me wrong: in general I love Vincent Price and his movies. I just had some uneasiness about “The Masque.”

Then, just a couple of days ago, dedicated reader Sherrill J. tipped me off that Vincent Price’s 1953 classic “House of Wax” was showing last night on MeTV. Now this was a whole different story.

First of all, many movies from the 1950s had an earnestness about them. Color was just becoming a thing, and the Hays code was in full force, simultaneously opening new opportunities and imposing guardrails on filmmakers. Directors and producers had to be clever and innovative to make use of the opportunities and hew to the constraints.

“House of Wax” did a pretty good job of that duality. It’s not a great movie, but it’s atmospheric and entertaining and offers a few fun surprises. But what really pushed the MeTV offering into worthwhile nostalgia was that it was hosted by Svengoolie. For those unfortunate souls among you who are not familiar with him, Svengoolie is a campy, corny “horror host” who follows in the footsteps of the late Bob Wilkins, Elvira, Count Frightenstein, Mr. Lobo, and others. In fact, it’s probably not exactly correct to say that Svengoolie “follows” in their footsteps, since he’s been at it since 1979!

Svengoolie at his “best.”

Speaking of wax: Let’s talk about today’s cocktail! It’s something called “Bite of the Vampire,” and it combines good champagne (the wife scolded me for using the last bottle of Roederer) with Aperol and the contents of one of those little wax bottles you used to get in your Halloween haul. Remember?

The wax fangs will be explained in a moment.

Conceptual Soundness: OK, it’s a reddish drink named “Vampire Bite.” That’s a good start. The addition of the Nik-L-Nip contents is interesting, as it connects this drink to Boomer Halloween Nostalgia. And as the pièce de résistance, they have you affix wax fangs to the rim of the glass. I’d say that’s a solid, focused, concept. 4 points.

Appearance: Well, it’s not the blood-red I would have expected from a “Vampire Bite” cocktail. But at least it’s in the general range of reddish. And the wax fangs are a nice touch, connecting both the “vampire” concept and the wax Halloween treat nostalgia. Let’s give it 3 points.

Taste: This isn’t a sophisticated drink. But it’s nostalgic and fun. The artificially-sweetened syrup from the wax bottle really gives it a unique zing. It shows up as a syrupy sweet finish to what would otherwise be an Aperol Spritz. The taste reminds me of a cherry Slurpee, which I used to down regularly in the 1970s. But it’s not too sweet. Although you hardly notice the champagne, it’s doing its job of balancing the wax-bottle syrup. I enjoyed drinking this, and I’ll give it 3.5 points.

Once you finish the drink, you get to annoy your family members with the wax lips.

Ease of Preparation: It’s easy to make. Hopefully you have champagne and Aperol on hand. The wax bottles and fangs will obviously require a special trip. I found mine at T.W. Bonkers Toy and Candy Emporium in Placerville. I’m sure you could find them on Amazon as well. But sure, it’s going to be a bit of work to assemble the nostalgia components. Let’s give it 2 points for ease of preparation.

MAIL BAG

Faithful Reader Sara S shared this Candy Corn cartoon from the New Yorker, which riffs on a theme this blog presented in our 2002 treat review.

Tomorrow we start our review of Halloween donuts and ice cream!!

2024 Halloween treats · Halloween candy

Skull Candy

When I was a little brat growing up in the 1960s, the Easter Bunny (aka my mom) would always leave me an Easter basket filled with candy. I remember one year the basket contained (among other things) a marshmallow chick. As I recall, it was a reasonably detailed depiction, in bright yellow, with a distinct head and body, poised on little toothpick legs. I marveled at it…and then I bit its head off.

Their days are all numbered.

A few years later I discovered Peeps, which are extruded marshmallows roughly approximating the shape of a chick. They have no legs, no distinct segments. In fact, a package of five are technically just one big marshmallow, shaped in such a way to suggest five separate chicks that can be separated at the narrow isthmuses that connect them. They do not come close to the magical creature that Mom put in my Easter basket.

Peeps, I’ve learned, have been around since the 1950s…and the guy who created the “modern” Peep in 1954 just died, at age 98, last year. Today, the Peeps line has expanded to include bunnies, Christmas trees, and now skulls for Halloween.

OK, I’m game. Let’s review the little squishy brainpans see how they, uh, pan out.

Conceptual Soundness. Like cotton candy, marshmallows are a pretty simple candy without a lot of visual appeal. But Bob Born had the vision to mold them into festive shapes and festoon them with color and decorations. It’s a pretty good concept. 3 points.

Appearance of the Treat: The skulls are sold six to a box. The color palette employed on the box is an odd choice for a Halloween-themed confection. The bright green package with yellow and white accents has a springtime, Easter vibe. Perhaps the good folks at Peeps are just so rooted in their chicks origins that they can’t escape Easter pastels. But I think it creates an uncomfortable dissonance with the skull-shaped marshmallows.

But wait! These skulls are festively decorated in a distinct Dia de los Muertos pattern. In fact, they look like calaveras de azúcar–the sugar skulls that are inextricably associated with the Mexican holiday. Check it out:

Separated at death?

It gets me wondering if these are not so much intended for Halloween, but rather are meant as a nod to the Day of the Dead. Even though Dia de Los Muertos is sometimes referred to by philistines as “Mexican Halloween,” the two holidays are not interchangeable. Me, I’d prefer something a little spookier than a brightly-colored skull that resembles Joel Grey from Cabaret. Still, the Peeps design is colorful and well-executed. Let’s give it 3 points.

Wunderbar!

Taste: Basically, it’s just a marshmallow. But the outside has been sprinkled with fine sugar, which delivers a gritty though not unpleasant sensation. More importantly, the outer “skin” of the marshmallow is somewhat firmer than the gooey center, resisting your bite for a millisecond before yielding with a satisfying snap. It makes for a great mouthfeel. On the other hand, the taste itself is pretty uninteresting–just that saccharine, cloying sweetness you associate with classic marshmallows. Let’s give it 2.5 points.

Value: A box of these will cost you $1 at Rite Aid. That works out to 17 cents per skull. What else could deliver so much visual and gustatory entertainment at that price? 4 points.

Total Treat Score: 12.5/16 points. This is much better than I thought they’d score. What’s more, they each have no fat and only 47 calories, so they’re practically a health food!

Do yourself a favor and eat a box of them today.