It doesn’t matter how old you are—everyone knows that the best part of Halloween is the candy, whether you’re trick-or-treating or buying it in bulk “for the office.” Every day this week, Bon Appétit staffers defend their absolute favorite candy, a thing we have very strong opinions about.
When I was eight years old, I crushed a movie theater-sized box of Sour Patch Kids in under an hour and burnt the roof of my mouth for the first time. Despite the rookie move (and minor pain), my obsession with sour candy was born. Warheads, Lemonheads, Cry Babies, Sour Ropes—you name it, I loved it. Finally, I had a socially acceptable replacement for snacking on lemon slices.
I became a self-proclaimed candy connoisseur, graduating from those theater boxes to bulk-sized bags. I became the number one customer at Pinches & Pounds, my local candy store in Waltham, Massachusetts. The guy at Cassie’s Corner Store knew my name. And I eventually adjusted to the sour candy burn—it’s my new normal, and my dentist wouldn’t recommend this lifestyle—but that’s besides the point.
I thought I tried them all. But then I had ZOURS at a high school football game, and nothing would ever be the same, because I learned then that ZOURS are singlehandedly the most underrated candy of all time.
I know what you’re thinking: Did she misspell SOUR? Did she accidentally lean on CAPS LOCK?
Nope. ZOURS are the sour version of the classic Mike and Ike—subtly sweet with an unexpected sour zing. They have the same jelly bean texture, but with a smooth coating of sour sugar. There is no gritty layer like other sour candies have, so the oval shaped candies have a clean, hard shell. It’s a two-bite chew that doesn’t stick to your teeth, like a less chewy gummy bear combined with a jellybean. ZOURS are the perfect mouth-puckering candy: gummy texture, complex flavor, and just the right amount of sweet balanced with just the right amount of sour.
Each box of ZOURS includes five flavors: Sour Lemon, Sour Green Apple, Sour Watermelon, Sour Blue Raspberry, and Sour Cherry. Per the package, ZOURS are made with actual fruit juice, so they are practically healthy. At least that’s what I tell myself when I eat ZOURS for breakfast on Monday, Wednesday, and every other Sunday.
There’s something about eating pastel-colored gummy candy out of a retro yellow box that makes me feel like a kid again. If ZOURS were a restaurant, it would be that understated neighborhood spot, the one that nobody knows about, but everybody should. But it’s where you have an unofficial official table, and the chef turns out solid food every single night.
ZOURS are consistent—consistently the best.
The only problem is that it’s not so easy to find boxes of ZOURS by the checkout counter at your nearest drug store. ZOURS play hard to get. But, take it from a pro, there are a few tricks. One: Stock up around Halloween. Mike and Ike has a limited edition variety bag with ZOURS in it. Buy multiple bags. ZOURS hoarding is encouraged; you should see my candy closet. Two: There is such thing as a ZOURS location tracker, or just email me and I’ll use my innate ZOURS GPS. Three: Buy in bulk online at CandyWarehouse.com. But hurry up before I beat you to it. After all, I have to keep my work candy stash fresh. There’s a reason people request to meet in my office.