Let’s talk about candy corn.
Witches and goblins? Not scary. No, among all the trappings of Halloween, somehow to many, the little tricolored candy has become the most gruesome aspect of the holiday.
Invented by George Renninger in the 1880s, candy corn is classic Americana, unaltered over its many years of existence and embedded in our very national history.
But seriously, the words “candy corn” seem to jolt awake the lifeless bodies of midterm-ridden students and transform them into accredited food critics. If only this passion could energize the voting booths, help us save coffee money or increase student attendance at football games…
Oh, you’re too cultivated for candy corn? How refined you must be. Do you have any recommendations on fine wine? Heavens to Betsy, maybe you could enlighten the rest of us backcountry bumpkins who like candy corn over some moonshine and a roasted possum?
The main ingredients in candy corn are corn syrup, sugar and salt. It’s as pure as a Carolina blue sky and as neutral as Chancellor Carol Folt on every single issue.
Candy corn is an American innovation aimed to strengthen our cultural celebration. Its artistic design has brought smiles to trick-or-treaters nearly 150 years after its creation, speaking to the enduring legacy of an entrepreneurial endeavor. Its business centers around festivity and encourages us all to focus on life’s simple joys. Its modest flavor shouldn’t dictate its worth.
The once wonderful simplicity of candy corn now evokes repulsion among many wannabe culinary experts, emboldened by the emerging culture of nonconformity-shaming. We don’t have to perfectly align ourselves among identical thinkers, waiting to be harvested and sold into a world that sees us as mass-produced and detasseled of our individuality. That shucks.
So, candy corn lovers: own it. It’s okay to be outstanding in your field.
