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In snoburbia, if you eat candy at all, it should be
impressive. Okay: Ferrero Rocher, Ghirardelli, Lindt. Better: Christopher
Norman or Richart Paris. Okay: dark chocolate, imported from Europe. Not: milk
chocolate. As a hostess gift, you may bring hand-made truffles.
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Don’t tell anyone, but I love Sugar Babies. They have been my favorite candy since I was a child, when I had to save up my allowance for a week to buy a bag. I eat each caramel nugget slowly, flattening it on my tongue and letting it dissolve a little before chewing. I’ve mastered eating Sugar Babies without losing a dental filling. (Hey, you try it!)
Unfortunately, the lowbrow candy classic is a
little harder to come by in the overclass snoburbs. You have to travel to outer
suburbia. So when I buy them, I tend to buy four or five bags at a time.
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Last week I went on a candy run to Five Below, a
discount store in a largely Latino working class neighborhood. They have a huge
selection of classic candy – Mary Janes, Jaw Breakers, Atomic Fireballs, and individual
Tootsie Rolls, mini Reeses cups and Mr. Goodbars. I went crazy and got some of
each.
I was standing in line, trying to juggle my big
armload of candy, when I overheard the little boy in front of me ask his mother
for a piece of candy. “No, honey, I told you we don’t have a lot of money, and
we can’t afford to buy candy.” The little boy then looked back at the giant
load of candy in my arms. Then he looked up at me – now sheepishly clutching my
loot.
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