I’m not one to masticate and tell, but I have been with a lot of candybars in my time. You know how it is: you’re young, you’re with a new Sugar Daddy every other week. I was in a monoyummy relationship with Charlston Chews for a while. Spent a year with the 100 Grand Bar. Even hooked up with Bit O’ Honey a few times.
But after you’ve played the field for a while, it’s time to settle down. You find the best of what’s out there and stick with it. For me, it was this:
With a roster of ingredients consisting of milk chocolate peanuts, carmel, and nougat, Snickers is the like Justice League of candybars: it only contains the top guns, with no second-stringers like toffee or Elongated man.
This is what the back of the wrapper looks like these days:
This is one of a series of hip ads that M&M Mars has been running for a few years, based on neologisms and puns. I find it unseemly. Snickers is a classic; giving it a too-clever-by-half advertising campaign is like putting Ingrid Bergman in a miniskirt. Well, that doesn’t sound so bad, on reflection. Objection withdrawn.
Rating: Whoa, this is a lot sweeter than I recall. My first assumption was that they had changed the recipe in someway, perhaps by replacing the sugar with high-frutos corn syrup. But a scan of the ingrediants still showed sugar at the top of the list:
But further down there it is: corn syrup. Maybe not the newfangled high-frutos kind, but obviously a newer addition that had altered the taste.
Or … maybe not.
Huh. Maybe it is the same candybar I ate as a kid. Maybe I’m the one who’s changed. It’s not you Snickers, it’s me. But we had a good run. And you’ll always be the standard by which all candybars are judged. 95¢/$1.