Once again, we will award bonus points to the first person to correctly describe the relevance of today’s title. And kudos to Chris F, who was the first to point out that last week’s “The Egg and I” was the title of a 1945 novel that introduced Ma and Pa Kettle, thus linking to the kettle corn that was under review in the blog that day.

Today we’re trying a special seasonal version of the Kit Kat bar. Kit Kats trace back to the 1930s in Britain, but didn’t come to the US until 1970. Like so many confections, the Kit Kat spawned a number of different versions of itself in the 1990s, including orange, mint, and caramel.

In 2017 a pumpkin pie-flavored Kit Kat was released for the Halloween season. It’s become quite popular each October. So let’s review it!

1. Packaging. Well, there’s a lot of orange, so that’s something. There’s also a picture of a Kit Kat sliced in two, and a photo of a slice of actual pumpkin pie. Some random clip art of pumpkins and fall leaves round out the front of the package. Overall, there’s a kitchen-sink quality about all these images. But wait–there’s more! Turn the bag over and you see that someone has drawn cartoonish googly eyes on a handful of Kit Kat bars. They also each have a leaf sprouting from their head, and what appears to be a poop emoji plopped on top. It’s a little hard to know what they were going for here. And then, in a bit of self-aware corniness, they write “Good gourd that’s cute” next to the drawings.

Now, I should note that this is a bag of individually-wrapped, miniature Kit Kats. So let’s take a look at those individual wrappers:

The front has more of that random clip art, but I have to admit that the overall effect is a bit more cohesive and balanced than the bag’s design. And then they use the back of these individual wrappers to explain how to open the thing. Like it’s a childproof container or something.

Overall, I think the packaging is all over the place, without any cohesive theme. And, I don’t know, wouldn’t Halloween have been a suitable theme for these pumpkin pie candies that are individually wrapped to give to kids on Halloween? I can’t in good conscience give the packaging more than 1 point.

2. Appearance of the Treat. It’s a single segment of a Kit Kat bar. The folks at Hershey call these segments “fingers,” and a normal bar has four of them, connected together with chocolate. Other than the size, the only other feature to distinguish the look of this candy from the usual version is the color. It’s a reasonable facsimile of pumpkin pie filling, so that’s worth a point or two. Heck, I’ll give it two points.

3. Taste. Remember those treats shaped like little wax bottles, that contained some kind of syrup that was supposed to taste like grape or cherry? Remember how incredibly artificial it tasted, causing your taste buds to burn, and your saliva glands to pump out copious quantities of liquid in an effort to dilute the chemicals, and your central nervous system to essentially shut down? The “pumpkin pie” flavor of these Kit Kats is similar to that. They remind me of the Torani pumpkin syrup I once added to a coffee, which after one sip I had to pour out. In a word, these Kit Kats taste fake. Not in a benign way, like Lik-M-Aid or Slurpees, but in a malignant, life-threatening way like rat poison. No points.

4. Value. Being as it’s getting close to the end of the month, the local grocery store was unloading these at half price. So I paid 2 bucks for this bag of 32 candies. That’s a little more than 6 cents per candy. If they were edible at all, that would score 3 points. Even with my disgust over their taste, I feel obliged to give a sympathy point for value. It’s that good of a price. 1 point.

Steve’s Sweetoberfest Score: 4 out of 12 points, which makes it a definite TRICK. I recommend you give these Kit Kats the “finger.”

Near the beginning of the month we reviewed two purported treats from Russell Stover: the Dark Chocolate Marshmallow Pumpkin, and the Peanut Butter in Milk Chocolate pumpkin. They each earned a rating of 5, which is in the TRICK category. But recently I discovered the Russell Stover’s pumpkin line extends to a third concoction, which involves candy corn, marshmallow, and white fudge. This seemed intriguing, in the same way that when I was high school we were all intrigued by making “suicides” out of random aggregations of different soda. So I plunked down my dinero at CVS and took home the Russell Stover Candy Corn Marshmallow in White Fudge Pumpkin. I subjected it to my usual rigorous testing, and am now prepared to share with you my findings.

1. Packaging. As you’ll remember, I haven’t been very impressed with the packaging for RS’s suite of pumpkin candies. The cartoon jack o’lantern has a goofy face that suggests indigestion. And the characters in the foreground that are supposed to represent the candy flavor components look like childish scribbles. In this case, however, the image of a smiling candy corn and a smiling marshmallow comes across as somehow more whimsical than stupid. They’ve also added a small, flying bat. Whereas I awarded no points to the other versions, I’ll give this one a point.

2. Appearance of the Treat. Alert readers will recall that I dismissed the other RS “pumpkins’ as resembling excreta. This one, however, benefits from having a color other than brown. In addition, the shape better conforms to that of a classic pumpkin. This is inoffensive. It’s even, dare I say, somewhat appetizing. Two points.

3. Taste. I took a tentative bite of this pumpkin, feeling apprehensive after the last two versions. But as soon as it registered on my tongue, I knew this was a winner. Insert roaring crowd sound here. Seriously, people, this is amazing. The marshmallow center is light and fluffy and almost melts in your mouth. The candy corn flavoring is tinted a pumpkin color (which I thought was a nice touch), and manages to evoke all the good aspects of candy corn without the waxy, gross aspects. But most of all, it’s that white fudge which really makes this treat. It’s sweet without being cloying, and has a creaminess that suffuses your mouth. On top of all of this, it appears that the entire candy is enveloped in a thin white chocolate shell. I vacuumed this treat. I immediately wanted another. I wouldn’t be surprised to learn that it contains crack. 3 points.

4. Value. This one-ounce pumpkin set me back a mere 50 cents. What could you buy for two quarters that would give this much satisfaction? 3 points.

Steve’s Sweetoberfest Score: 9 out of 12 points, giving Russell Stover its first solid TREAT of the month! All is forgiven!

While replenishing my supply of Laphroaig at Trader Joe’s (their price is $8 less than Bevmo, FYI) I noticed a bag of “pumpkin tortilla chips.” Now, tortilla chips are not something you normally associate with Halloween, but surely pumpkin chips are suitably evocative of the holiday. Besides, I’m forever looking for a new excuse to pound a bag of chips. So I tossed a bag into my cart with the Laphroaig, transacted business with a bored cashier sporting eyebrow rings purple hair, and went home to conduct my taste test.

1. Packaging. In a word, I’d call the packaging unimaginative. It’s a bag of pumpkin chips, so they show a picture of a bunch of chips, and put the word “pumpkin” prominently at the top. That’s kind of it. To be fair, Trader Joe’s may not be going for the Halloween vibe. But surely that’s an obvious oversight when you’re taking a common staple and turning it into something pumpkin-related. In October. Overall, I have to say this packaging is neither fun nor Halloween-y. I can’t give it any points. 0 points.

2. Appearance of the Treat. The contents of the bag have the shape of classic tortilla chips, probably because they’re essentially classic tortilla chips. They do have a somewhat ochre cast to them, but it’s not distinctive enough to really shout pumpkin. TJ’s missed an obvious opportunity to shape these chips like pumpkins. Or to dye them a true pumpkin-orange color. Or to dip each one in chocolate and drizzle it with orange and black icing. My point is that these are just chips. There’s nothing especially festive about them for the Halloween season. (My wife points out that this hasn’t prevented me from consuming the entire bag, however.) Anyway, as a Halloween treat, these lack pizzazz. No points.

3. Taste. When you eat your first Trader Joe’s Pumpkin Tortilla Chip, you notice that there’s something a little unusual about the taste of these chips. You eat a few more, and conclude that you don’t really like them that much. And then you finish the bag. At least, this is what happened to me.

But there are several aspects to the favor profile worth mentioning. The foundation for the taste is Basic Tortilla Chip. But there’s less salt than you’d normally taste in, say, Doritos. This is a huge loss, because, as far as I’m concerned, tortilla chips are little more than a crunchy delivery system for salt. Then there’s the “pumpkin” aspect to these chips. Despite what’s implied on the bag, these are not “pumpkin” chips, but rather they are corn tortilla chips with a little bit of pumpkin puree added. There’s so little you can barely taste it. What you can taste are trace amounts of nutmeg and cinnamon they’ve added to the recipe. But they detract from, rather than complement, the basic tortilla chip taste.

At the end of the day, there’s only two things wrong with these chips: (1) the recipe, and (2) the way the recipe is executed. Other than that, it’s a brilliant snack sensation. No points.

4. Value. This seven-ounce bag cost $1.99. That’s about the going price for, say, Doritos. So I’ll give it 2 points. But it’s wise to remember that getting a good price on something you don’t want isn’t a bargain.

Steve’s Spooktoberfest Score: 2 out of 12 points, which makes it a nasty TRICK. Don’t fall for the hype! (If you can call that anodyne, boring bag “hype.”)