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!!

Halloween Cocktails

Children of the (Candy) Corn

Ah, yes. Candy corn. One of the most maligned of Halloween “treats.” It’s the candy that every kid fears when trick-or-treating. It’s the fruit cake of Halloween. It’s the cheap alternative to proper chocolate candies that are purchased by Halloween grinches.

Now, as every schoolchild knows, candy corn was introduced to the unsuspecting world in 1888 by the Wunderle Candy Company. Its original name was “Chicken Feed.” (I’m not making this up.) Wunderle never really capitalized on their invention, which was marketed much better by Goelitz Candy around the turn of the century. Goelitz had the presence of mind to change the name to “candy corn.” Goelitz, as you may know, changed its own name to “Jelly Belly” in the late 20th Century.

Today, Brach’s controls 85% of the Halloween candy corn market. Which is a market with virtually no demand among end-users, but is purchased by households to pass out to unsuspecting trick-or-treaters.

Candy corn has somehow become an iconic Halloween “treat,” although it’s highly divisive and seemingly hated by all. Therefore, it makes sense that candy corn should somehow be featured in a Halloween cocktail. So here we go!

The Recipe: Betty Crocker has a recipe for something called a “Halloween Candy Corn Cocktail.” It’s easy to make and it highlights the “candy” prominently. You start by dumping 1 cup of candy corn into 1-1/2 cups of vodka. Let it stand for at least 4 hours. (I let mine slowly dissolve overnight.)

Now, strain the remaining candy out of the vodka mixture, and you’ve got a candy corn-infused vodka base. Pour 1/2 cup of the infused vodka into a cocktail shaker, add 1/4 cup of pineapple juice, and add ice. Shake and pour into a martini glass. Garnish with a couple of candy corns.

The Ratings:

This cocktail accomplishes the unthinkable: it takes candy corn and makes it taste worse.

But first things first: In terms of appearance, this cocktail definitely features the unmistakable orange color that’s in the center layer of candy corn. But it does not display the iconic tricolor layers (yellow, orange, white) that candy corn is known for. Truth be told, this cocktail looks pretty boring and unappealing. 1 point.

Let’s move on to taste: This cocktail tastes a lot like candy corn…which isn’t surprising because it’s actually made with a cup of candy corn, dissolved in vodka. I don’t know if the different layers (yellow, orange, white) of candy corn impart their own distinct flavors, but this cocktail obviously just has one nondescript flavor. The other thing I noticed is that you eat candy corn one little piece at a time, allowing your tongue and stomach to kind of pace themselves and ease into the experience. But this cocktail concentrates 5-10 candy corns into each gulp. On top of this, there’s an added quarter-cup of pineapple juice that seems a bit out of place. The juice adds sweetness where it’s not needed, and inserts a little tang that’s totally inappropriate. The overall effect is, in a word, gross. No points.

(I did try a second version that omits the pineapple juice. That is, I tried drinking just the infused vodka by itself. Result: Huge mistake. The vodka is made more prominent, and the candy corn flavor is way too cloying without the pineapple juice to cut it.)

Name: Could there be a name more pedestrian, unimaginative, and unappealing than “Halloween Candy Corn Cocktail”? No points.

Grand Total: 1 point. We have a new record (for low score)!