LILEKS (James)

LILEKS (James)

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There is no such thing as Red Licorice

There is no such thing as Red Licorice

I'm on the fence about "white chocolate," though.

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James Lileks
Nov 06, 2024
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There is no such thing as Red Licorice
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Je Suis Monsieur Fraise

Removed from last Friday’s Jolly Rancher piece:

You bring out the hard and unwanted candy when the good stuff is gone. And by “gone” I mean you set aside 5 white chocolate Nestles, five Midnight Milky Way, a half-dozen Reese’s, and then you put them in the freezer because they’re great when they’re cold, and then you find them in February, and think they’re still good, candy never goes bad. Then you crack a tooth on a glacial Snickers.

Removed for length and general sense of “yeah, so?” That said, let me put in a word for white chocolate here. And the word is: liar. It is not chocolate, anymore than red Twizzlers are “red licorice.”

I understand why we used the term for Twizzlers, of course  - we came to associate the flavor of licorice with the means of delivery, the twisty pliable rope.  But that’s wrong. “Red licorice” is like “vegan meatloaf.”

Wikipeda is no help, and quavers at the thought of displeasing the mob:

Despite only the black Twizzlers containing extracts of the licorice plant, Twizzlers products are collectively referred to as licorice-type candy.

No! I’m not conceding this! I realize we lost “begs the question” but I’m holding the line here. If it does not taste like licorice, it is not licorice type.

I should also note that I prefer white chocolate to dark, but I am male, and lack the complex emotional relationship some women have with chocolate.  If I never had a rectangle broken off a Hershey bar ever again, I’d be fine. I prefer it when it’s mated with peanut butter. But it looms not large in my catalogue of appetites.

The Milky Way was my favorite candy bar growing up, thanks to its rich thick caramel ration. I had no way of knowing I’d eventually move to a neighborhood where the father of the Milky War bar inventor once lived. Yes: Minneapolis. Yes, Mr. Mars. Even better: the house where I live was built by a candy maker - the man who gave the world . . . .

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