Streaking Out

Have you ever had rock candy? Hey, I’m talking about lollies not some euphemism for crack cocaine. This is a family-friendly blog. You know, that hard sweetie they roll into long tubes of sugary, colourful fun and then slice up like some sweet tooth’s version of kabana.

fruit-salad-rock-candy

Fruit salad rock candy from Red Balloon Candy

I remember standing at the window of more than one confectionary establishment watching the candy man or candy woman rolling out the soft and pliable candy dough and wondering what the end product would look like – would it be a rainbow of colours, an interior designer’s dream of colour scheming or, if they were really clever, would there be a word or picture through that sugar rope?

I wonder what you would look like as a piece of rock candy? What runs through the middle of you? (That’s not a literal question. I don’t need to see what a dissection of a human body would look like, thank you very much.)

I’m sure you’ve heard the phrase that someone may have a “streak of madness”. What’s your streak? Maybe you have more than one. Maybe you’d be a rainbow of streakiness if you turned into rock candy.

I’ve spoken before about my inherent streak of stubbornness. It’s what got me through training for and completing my first marathon. Despite the voices telling me I’d never make it, that stubborn streak just wouldn’t let me give up. That streak took over again recently when I put myself through a process I’d sworn I’d never do again because my first experience had crushed my self-confidence. But when the opportunity arose, that stubborn part of me just wouldn’t let it beat me and I felt compelled to give it another shot. That stubborn streak is so hard, I reckon it would rival an Everlasting Gobstopper.

Willy-Wonka-Gobstopper

You mean one of these?

However, if you sliced me up, it wouldn’t just be the word “stubborn” through the middle. I can be pretty streaky.

There’s the Freak Streak for starters. The one that makes middle-aged me go out in public in fluoro orange sneakers and a hoodie saying “I am a Whovian Mum. Just like a normal mum except much cooler.” The one that dresses up in a nerd costume for a trivia night even though it’s not a dress up event.

Then there’s definitely a stereotypical streak of madness. What else would make me take on a marathon at age 50? Or decide I could put together my own she-shed with no building skills whatsoever?

There’s a wobbly and uneven streak we’ll call a combination of over-thinking and lack of self-confidence. Sometimes it’s a thick streak and sometimes you can hardly see it.

A crafty/arty streak definitely flows through me. It’s not a particularly refined one and is probably a bit lumpy with undissolved sugar but it goes through my core.

Post-Apocalyptic-Life-Skill-t-shirt-teeturtle_800x

I want this shirt. (© Teeturtle.com)

 

I’m not sure the MOSY Rock Candy would be a bestseller and it certainly wouldn’t appear in any of your exclusive confectionery establishments. It’s more likely to be in the clearance bin in amongst the other imperfect packages. But it’s definitely a limited edition.

So, what would your rock candy look like?

Postscript: The day after I wrote the first draft of this post, the most famous rock candy manufacturer in Australia, Castlemaine Rock, announced they were closing their doors. Tapping into the zeitgeist…

Castlemaine Rock

Vale Castlemaine Rock 😦

An Ode To Milk Duds

Milk Duds

I think that some will never see

A poem as lovely as a tree

But to them, I say “My buds,

No tree can match the great Milk Duds.”

My favourite American ‘candy’ (I’ll excuse my use of this so-USA term since it relates to confectionery native to that country) is the Milk Dud. Or must they always be referred to in the plural? My favourite American candy is the Milk Duds. That doesn’t sound right either. Anyone know the accepted convention? No?

Anyway, however you say it, these golden nuggets of chocolate-coated caramel are always my imported candy/lolly/sweet of choice.

So imagine my eagerness to stock up on their nuggety goodness during a recent visit to the Big Toffee Apple.

Except I couldn’t find them. Not anywhere. Not even at the great Dylan’s Candy BarNot even at the Hershey’s store.

P1050806 (2)

Milk Duds are made by Hershey’s. You’d think, logically, wouldn’t you, that an iconic Hershey’s flagship store would stock their own product, right?

Wrong.

Was there a national Milk Duds shortage? Or had they (gasp!) stopped making them?? Had Milk Duds gone the way of the Pollywaffle to be relegated to the Dodo-land of Extinct Chocolate Bars?

No search of the candy aisle in a supermarket, bodega or gift shop could turn up the favoured treat. There was nothing for it but to go home empty-Milk-Duds-handed.

And then today, as I wandered aimlessly in our state capital, the display in a local Lolly Shop caught my eye. GASP! MILK DUDS!! I hurried into the shop and asked for the precious gold ingots. I purchased the last remaining box. Perhaps they really were soon to be relegated to “Retro” status.

I could, of course, ask Mr Google if my worst fears have been realised but I think I do not want my worst fears to be realised. Much like believing in fairies, if I keep the belief in the existence of Milk Duds alive, then surely they will continue to exist.

But perhaps it would be wise to consult Mr Google as to the availability of further purchases within reasonable delivery cost and stock up, just in case.

GROSS FACT NO.1

Any turd found at the bottom of a public swimming pool was colloquially referred to as a “Pollywaffle”. Perhaps this is what hastened the poor chocolate bar’s demise.

SAD FACT NO.1

The Allen’s Confectionery Company (owned by Nestlé) has just announced the cessation of production of Spearmint Leaves and Green Frogs. This has caused outrage from the Mini Chocolate Christmas Pudding makers of Australia who will no longer have a sugary imitation of holly leaves. Nobody seems to care about the frogs.

 

 

HOME button Able Theme small