Today we are trying another product from the Russell Stover pantheon: The “Russell Stover Peanut Butter in Milk Chocolate Pumpkin” confection.

Yes it’s very, very similar to Russell Stover’s marshmallow abomination that we reviewed yesterday. But in place of the marshmallow-flavored chemical filling, they injected this “confection” with peanut butter-flavored chemical filling. So let’s get down to the scoring, shall we?

1. Packaging: Russell Stover has to work to keep its rock-bottom price point, and one of the ways they do that is by recycling the artwork from other “candies.” Case in point: This peanut-butter flavored “pumpkin” is packaged in a wrapper that’s almost identical to RS’s marshmallow-flavored “pumpkin.” It’s got the same Nancy Pelosi-faced pumpkin, but instead of a smiling marshmallow next to it, there’s a smiling peanut that’s eerily reminiscent of Planters’ Mr. Peanut. In addition, there’s a superfluous peanut-themed tapeworm escaping from the top of the pumpkin. I suppose the fright occasioned by that image is in keeping with the general vibe of Halloween, but I’d classify it as revolting rather than spooky. Overall, the image is disgusting and childish. No points.

2. Appearance of the Treat: Once again, RS seems to be saving money by using the same mold (you can use either definition of that word) that they used with their marshmallow pumpkin, which we’d noted resembled…how can we put this delicately?…meconium. The sample we received for this particular review seemed to at least vaguely resemble a pumpkin, so we’ll give it a point.

3. Taste. So, when you think of a chocolate crust surrounding an allegedly peanut butter-flavored center, you think of Reese’s, which is clearly the Kleenex or the Xerox of such candies. This RS knock-off is not entirely offensive. If you just jam the whole thing into your mouth and don’t chew, it’s entirely edible. But if you do chew it, you discover that the texture is a bit sandy and the taste is saccharine-sweet. It’s probably acceptable if you’re just pounding your candy haul after a night of trick-or-treating. But if you’re attempting to savor a treat along with your cocktail, as I am, it’s a definite letdown. 1 point.

4. Value. You’re not eating Russell Stovers if you aren’t into value. These “pumpkins” are about 50 cents apiece. Which works out to about 25 cents per zit that you’re cultivating with these candies. That’s good value, right? 3 points.

Steve’s Sweetoberfest Score: 5 out of 12, which qualifies as a modest TRICK.

Mailbag: Loyal reader Chris suggests that I should pair each candy with an appropriate beer. But given the narrow range of beers that I’m willing to consume, every candy would be paired with an imperial stout. Still, it’s a good idea and might feature in my blog next Halloween. Meanwhile, keep those suggestions coming!

It’s impossible for me to see any kind of marshmallow confection without thinking of this abomination.

But Russell Stover, that purveyor of cheap drug store candy that is always available as a last-minute backup plan when you’ve forgotten your anniversary, has produced the definitive generic Halloween marshmallow candy. It’s a marshmallow blob, allegedly shaped like a pumpkin, coated in a chocolate-like substance. What’s not to like?

I don’t think these are commonly provided to trick-or-treaters at the door, but I do remember seeing them in the free candy bowl on the Waste Management table at a Southern California recycling fair one October. I’m not certain that anyone’s ever actually purchased one to consume themselves. Anyway, let’s get down to scoring!

Dimension 1: Packaging. Well, this is a little lacking in the spookiness department. The smiling marshmallow looks like something from a Saturday morning kid’s cartoon from the early 1970s. And the smiling pumpkin looks like Nancy Pelosi. I’m just not feeling it. Zero points.

Dimension 2: Appearance of the Treat. Well, if this is what a pumpkin looks like, I think you’ll see a lot of pumpkin shapes in your standard diaper. Zero points.

Dimension 3: Taste. Here I was pleasantly surprised. True, the dark chocolate doesn’t taste any more like chocolate than Nestle’s Quik, but the marshmallow filling is light and fluffy and inoffensive. It would be better if it had a little mint flavoring or something a bit stronger than bland marshmallow, but it wasn’t bad. And the texture was very acceptable indeed. 2 points.

Dimension 4. Value. This is where Russell Stover normally kills it. A one-ounce candy will set you back four bits. Compared to a Reeses, say, that’s downright affordable. 3 points.

Steve’s Sweetoberfest Score: 5 out of 12, which qualifies as a modest TRICK.

For our kick-off treat, we are sampling Reese’s Franken-cup.

This is a new candy for 2020, and I had to travel all over the Los Angeles basin to find it for this review. It appears to only be available at those purveyors of fine chocolates: Target and WalMart.

The Franken-cup is similar to a standard Reese’s peanut butter cup, but the lower half of the chocolate cup is replaced with “green creme.”

This of course raises the question: what is “creme,” exactly? Merriam-Webster defines it as “a cream or preparation made with or resembling cream when used in cooking.” So, for this candy product, it seems “creme” is a “preparation…resembling cream.” Doesn’t that sound appetizing?

Let’s apply Steve’s Sweetoberfest Scoring rubric to the Franken-cup. (Each treat will be judged along four dimensions, with up to three points available for each dimension.)

Dimension 1–Packaging. Not bad. It’s the standard Reese’s orange packaging, but there’s a closeup of two Franken-cups to show off that all-important green creme. An image of an electrode is emitting little lightning bolts, suggesting that the Franken-cup was created in a mad scientist’s laboratory. Points deducted for not including neck bolts on the picture of the candy, or placing it on an operating table, or incorporating some other trope evocative of Frankenstein. 2 points.

Dimension 2–Appearance of the Treat. Pretty clever to go with green on a Reese’s cup. It’s a surprising twist on a very familiar candy. The mold-green color is a good Halloween choice. I do wonder if they shouldn’t have also colored the filling, though. Also, I think they missed an opportunity to emboss some kind of Frankenstein motif in the top of the cup. Or maybe print something on the paper wrapper that each cup sits in. 2 points.

Dimension 3–Taste. It’s hard to improve on the standard Reese’s. Chocolate and peanut butter are a classic, satisfying combination. The green creme changes things a bit. It’s sort of interesting, adding a different texture and a sweeter, creamier taste. But it ends up quite cloying on the palate. 2 points.

Dimension 4–Value. This “king size” package costs $1.69 at Target. Points deducted for making the cup so damn small. Maybe the regular Reese’s are this small nowadays. But in my day, Reese’s cups were much bigger. A package of two cups was 1.8 ounces, which means four cups would weigh in at 3.6 ounces. This “king size” package of four Franken-cups is only 2.4 ounces. 1 point.

Steve’s Sweetoberfest Score: 7 out of 12, which qualifies as a minor TREAT.