This bar is one of those “old-timey” candies, like Necco wafers, candy buttons, Squirrel Nut Zippers, etc. Actually, anything made by Necco is brittle and antiquated. So this is one of those classics that everyone sees but never has any desire to try, passing it up for a Snickers or other 21st century candy bar.
This rickety old fucker gives good reason for people to never wish to approach it. It has four components, each much bigger than I expected. Each component has a different flavor in it- chocolate fudge, marshmallow, caramel, and peanut butter.
Upon opening the cantankerous old man of a candy bar, I have an encounter with the worst white bloom I’ve ever seen. Is this a white chocolate candy bar or- OH GOD. Seriously. It’s got a shiny, waxy sheen that can only mean one thing- mockolate. But it’s not. It’s just authentic, awful milk chocolate, which almost disappoints me more.
So I bit into each component. The chocolate was brittle and flaked off. The first flavor was caramel, but I thought it was peanut butter because of the graininess and absolute aversion to smooth texture that the bite had. But no, it was just a sugary lump, so it must have been caramel.
The next bite held marshmallow, or if marshmallow had hung out in an old folk’s home for sixty or so years and had slowly decomposed into a sugary white goo that got all over my frigging French notes. It put me into a coma, like my geriatric candy bar, and I almost didn’t get to try the next piece.
That piece was the peanut butter. Oh yeah. I didn’t get a photo, but there was a small layer of oil from the peanut butter that made this inedible. I did not eat most of the piece as it was smelly, bitter, and oozing liquid. Again…like some old people. Shame on you, Necco.
The last piece was fudge…and I’m not even going to make a stool joke here. It was soft. It was mushy. It tasted like caranuba wax and broken dreams of dime stores.