Candy: A Century of Panic and Pleasure

by Samira Kawash

For most Americans, candy is an uneasy pleasure, eaten with side helpings of guilt and worry. Yet candy accounts for only 6 percent of the added sugar in the American diet. And at least it's honest about what it is—a processed food, eaten for pleasure, with no particular nutritional benefit. So why is candy considered especially harmful, when it's not so different from the other processed foods, from sports bars to fruit snacks, that line supermarket shelves? How did our definitions of food and candy come to be so muddled? And how did candy come to be the scapegoat for our fears about the dangers of food?
In A Century of Panic and Pleasure , Samira Kawash tells the fascinating story of how candy evolved from a luxury good to a cheap, everyday snack. After candy making was revolutionized in the early decades of mass production, it was celebrated as a new kind of food for energy and enjoyment. Riding the rise in snacking and exploiting early nutritional science, candy was the first of the panoply of "junk foods" that would take over the American diet in the decades after the Second World War—convenient and pleasurable, for eating anytime or all the time.
And yet, food reformers and moral crusaders have always attacked candy, blaming it for poisoning, alcoholism, sexual depravity and fatal disease. These charges have been disproven and forgotten, but the mistrust of candy they produced has never diminished. The anxiety and confusion that most Americans have about their diets today is a legacy of the tumultuous story of candy, the most loved and loathed of processed foods. Candy is an essential, addictive read for anyone who loves lively cultural history, who cares about food, and who wouldn't mind feeling a bit better about eating a few jelly beans.

Genres: Nonfiction, Food, History, Food History, Adult, Food and Drink, Health

417 pages, Kindle Edition

First published October 15, 2013

About the author

Brooklyn-based author Samira Kawash has a Ph.D. in literary studies from Duke University and is a professor emerita at Rutgers University. She is the founder of the website CandyProfessor.com and has written about candy for The Atlantic, Gastronomica and Saveur.

Reviews

[Elyse Walters · Rating 4 out of 5]

HAPPY VALENTINES!!!!!

Is candy evil or Just Misunderstood?

Author Samira Kawash begins this book by sharing a story: It all started with
"The Jelly Bean Incident".

"My daughter was three years old, and she loved jellybeans. A baby fistful of the brightly colored morsels was just about the brightest prize she could imagine, and at one tiny gram of sugar per bean, it seemed to me – – her caring, reasonably attentive mother – – to be a pretty harmless treat. So it was the best of intentions that we decided one day to bring some jellybeans to share for her play date at Noah's house."
"Noah's mom, Laura, stocked their pantry with normal kid stuff – – Popsicles and juice boxes and teddy grahams – – so I didn't think much about offering the jellybeans. But Laura seemed taken aback: "Well, he's never really had that before...I suppose it couldn't hurt."
"Couldn't hurt? Could she really believe I was harming my child, and threatening to harm hers, by holding out a few tiny pieces of candy? But greater condemnation was to follow. Her husband, Gary, had been listening to the exchange and with a dark Lair in my direction he hissed at Laura, "Oh, so I guess you'll start giving him crack now too?"

"Candy", - THIS BOOK ..... ( haha, and the 'treat' too), is enjoyable - and fascinating!
A few things covered were already familiar conversations. Studies about 'junk food' elicits addictive behavior in rats similar to the behaviors of rats addicted to heroin.
Granted! Proven!
"Call it addiction or craving or compulsion, it does seem certain that having a little candy causes many people to want to eat more. 'Hyperpalatability'....(i. e., extreme yumminess), plus aggressive marketing manipulates its products to make us want to keep eating them. The addition of large quantities of fat, sugar, and salt is what makes processed foods taste good".
The author will later explain that the definition of candy is never quite so simple as one might think.
However, usually when we think of candy, if we think of it at all, we think about happy memories: birthday party piñata- Halloween- Easter baskets - lollipops at the doctor's office - M&M's for special treats - chocolates on VALENTINES DAY,... etc. >> with a warning: don't eat too much... don't let it spoil your dinner, and remember to brush your teeth.

The author has DONE HER RESEARCH.... we get the COMPLETE HISTORY of the rise and fall ( so to speak) of CANDY.

At some point in time - Candy became 'Killer Candy". There was a time when a jellybean, was simply a jellybean. Candy did not become our FOOD Consumption.
If you've read Michael Pollan's book "The Omnivore's Dilemma", you already know that when you eat conventional beef, you're mostly eating corn. But did you know you were eating candy too?

HISTORY of the mass-produced candy industry first began in England in the 1850's.
Candy as we know it today is a result of the powers unleashed by the industrial
revolution in the late 19th century.
Candy PAVED THE WAY....for a panoply of other highly processed foods that, like candy, were convenient, portable, palatable, and cheap.


Reading "CANDY", we get a GRAND HISTORY LESSON through the years - about candy machines, fake sweets and fake food, kitchen preparations....( when did we start cooking with marshmallows.... adding 'candy' to our meals), the birth of presweetened cereals, --early day manufacturers were quite unself-conscious about the fact they were making candy meant to be eaten as a breakfast food.
Vending machine everywhere popped up- fast food restaurants-artificial emulsifier polysorbate was invented - binders- fillers - EGGO BREAKFAST... Stouffer's dinner...
hot pockets ...Big Macs..."all natural fruit juice"....SARA LEE BRAN MUFFINS....
.... lots of other ultra processed foods.....
I began to wonder.....and the author wondered, "how bad is CANDY in all this?

Candy isn't food..... but it isn't poison either. A little candy won't rot your teeth or make you fat. Candy is just candy.
I like Samira Kawash's way of thinking:
"Call it what it is and know when you're eating it". Choose the most delicious candy and let yourself enjoy it. Worry less about what's good and what's bad. It isn't so complicated. Eat real food. And then, have a few jellybeans".

This book has a few flaws,....maybe a little long - but.....
Like WHOLE FOODS ... and REAL BUTTER ... and REAL YUMMY CANDY TREAT ENJOYMENT, its a WHOLESOME " CANDIFICATION of Food, damn great book!

I applaud Samira Kawash ---outstanding research --- and enjoyable to read!
The antique-ish colorful photos in the middle of the book are priceless.
Old photos of BabyRuth for 5 cents --Fun Candy adds... "Candy is a Delicious Food"...
"Life Savers"....The candy with a hole! Lots more... will keep you laughing
"oh Henry"........you make me feel so good! -1926.


Wishing everyone a little sweetness for Valentines Day!!!

[Steven Savage · Rating 5 out of 5]

Samira Kawash's book "Candy" is a view, of, well, the History of Candy in the United States, going back to the late 19th/early 20th Century forward. That may sound simple, but Candy isn't simple.

The book isn't just about Candy per se - it focuses on sweet treats and the like - but is also a history of food and opinions about food and how they change (and don't change) through the ages. Though candy is center stage, around it swirls assorted stories and tales, joys and panics, and quite a few revealing things about knowledge and lack of knowledge of nutrition.

We assume that opinions about candy, food, and nutrition are stable, but they're not - in fact they vary to a shocking level. Candy has been a demon of sugar, and a quick form of nutrition, a shared pleasure, and a reason for panic. Around it are other issues of how we eat, how we make food, and what we regard as good for ourselves.

Imagine a time candy is the equivalent of today's modern nutrition bars (which, let's face it ARE candy). Or a time when there were far more brands, all local, now lost to obscurity. This book covers all of that.

However, what is most fascinating beyond Candy History is how health fads don't change. Fear of fat here, fear of carbs there. The book leaves you with a most unsettling impression that in the area of dietary fads, we're repeating ourselves here in America.

If the book has a flaw its that it ranges a bit far and wide on some occasions. This is understandable, but can be distracting.

I hesitate to spoil much about this book since for any food historian and cooking buff it's worth your time. In short, read it.

[Carye Bye · Rating 3 out of 5]

Last year I worked on a illustrated art show called "Favorite Candy" and I drew portraits of friends posing with their Favorite Candy. It was interesting to learn the psychology behind why certain candy is loved most. And that most people can pick a favorite -- it does come down to taste but more often Nostalgia. About the same time, I heard about this book, and was interested to learn the history of candy.

So I hate to give this book 3, but I really feel like like it needed more editing, more flow and just in general more focus and better connected stories. It reads more like the author is figuring out things along the way but not necessarily returning full circle. In this case a Travelogue story would have been better. It's more of a candy journal/notes than a good history book. I find that many books written by academic researchers or professors tend to have this problem of being TOO IN to the subject to really recognize how an outsider will read the book and what they will get out of it. They seem to forget the two-way street of a published book vs a published research project/paper.

But beyond that, the book is good and worth picking up. The history stories of the beginning days are interesting, but while this book is about CANDY and not FOOD -- it is actually a food history book because Candy and food, and the industry behind them both, as far as processed wide-spread food and candy goes are really hand and hand. So that was interesting. And I always wondered why Pharmacies always have so much junk food and candy, this book answered that question. And since locally in Portland we recently fought off Fluoride in the water here, the chapter about the Candy Industry giving money to fluoride research to help keep the fact that sugar/candy, especially sticky syrupy kinda that sticks between the teeth, is the real cavity culprit I especially read those chapters carefully.

So in general I skipped around, read what I wanted, picked up a couple gems I'll remember... I've tried a few other food histories and they just aren't my bag, though I'm interested.. perhaps it's the presentation, and I need the fun-general public pop-culture short version. Who knows? I'm a people person, so less interested in learning about things, though the people histories are often a part of it.

[Ron · Rating 3 out of 5]

I blame The Splendid Table for bring this title to my attention. I read the interview with the author and decided to give it a try.

Samira explains how she got hooked into research the topic of candy by an incident with her daughter wanting to share jelly beans with a friend. The reaction (really over-reaction) on the part of parents just highlight the conflicted feelings that she discovered when she dug into the history of candy. She covers the recent history, providing sources, along with the how people have viewed and reacted to candy and food in general mainly since the early 1800's. In the end, she pleads for a more rational approach. Candy is candy. It is a treat. Do not treat it like food, but also do not treat it like poison. In all a decent even-handed coverage of the topic.

[Lena · Rating 3 out of 5]

Samira Kawash began thinking hard about candy after what she refers to as "the jelly-bean incident," in which the parent of her child's friend made it clear he thought giving the kids jelly beans was equivalent to purchasing them crack. Kawash then set out to understand more about candy - where it came from, what it is, and what it isn't.

There is quite a bit of interesting information in this book, including an extensive history of the US candy industry, which overlaps with the history of industrial food production. A good portion of it is devoted to exploring the question where the line between candy and food actually is, one that food marketers have been attempting to blur for a very long time.

The sections on the history of candy marketing were actually some of the most interesting in the book. While we all know that we are constantly bombarded by advertising messages, I was shocked to learn how many mass food opinions have been completely shaped by advertisers attacking other industries. Big Tobacco, for instance, was the first to aggressively market the idea that candy makes you fat as it fought to compete for the small discretionary spending budgets of newly independent women. The sugar industry, on the other hand, was allegedly involved in the FDA banning of certain artificial sweeteners after the publication of a highly questionably industry financed study showing a very tenuous link between those sweeteners and cancer.

Despite some of the more fascinating parts of the book, I found myself ultimately skimming large portions of it. Kawash is unfortunately too detailed in her exploration of certain aspects of candy's history, and the narrative dragged at times. In her section on candy making as a business opportunity for women at a time when there were few, it would have worked better had she focused on telling one good story rather than trying to cover all the different women who had some success in the industry. Her recitation of the sins of food scientists trying to disguise candy as food (with sugared cereals and breakfast bars, for example) also gets a little repetitive.

Ultimately, I'm glad I read this book because it was very interesting to get an overview of how thoughts about food and nutrition have changed over the last 100 years - stories of candy as a critical war ration and an ad from the early part of the 20th century in which a doctor asks if you have gotten your daily recommended dose of candy particularly drives that point home. I would have preferred, however, a slightly less cliched conclusion that even highly processed candy is fine in moderation. While I agree with that conclusion, I was a little disappointed that Kawash did not end her book with a more spirited defense of the jelly bean.

[Elle · Rating 3 out of 5]

I definitely learned a lot, but I didn’t like that she was advocating for not demonizing candy while also still referring to ob*sity as a disease

[Joanie · Rating 3 out of 5]

That is one attractive cover. So swirly and pretty!

I've got a real sweet tooth. It's impossible for me to quit candy no matter how much I try, and that includes all kinds. There's no question that I do feel guilty about my candy intake when I go on a splurge. With all that in mind, this book seemed right up my alley. Samira Kawash goes on this historical journey with candy that dates back to the very first manufactured bonbons in the turn of the 20th century. That boom in production allowed for experimentation and diversity, which made sweets much more prevalent in everyday life. Advertising campaigns waged through the years are included and I always find those fascinating so that was a huge plus. The vintage print ads splashed throughout the book are a treat. I never gave much thought about the evolution of candy, especially through the effects of war on its production, to be honest. It's a long history that leads to the candy we know today, including in the form of cereals and snack bars.

I wasn't expecting that much research in the book but I enjoyed it! It's a pleasant surprise. Kawash does take the book in a defensive stance for candy but it works. It easily could've been a lighter book and more opinionated and less emphasis on history, but it wouldn't have been as interesting. Some of it does ramble on and the writing can feel a bit repetitive, so it's just a solid 3 stars for me.

[Chris Aylott · Rating 4 out of 5]

Now this is the best kind of popular history: an interesting topic that turns into a tour of an era you may not be familiar with. Kawash puts most of her attention on the marketing for and crusades against early twentieth-century candy, and there are plenty of lurid claims on both sides. Depending on your viewpoint (and your self-interest), candy could be a poison, a superfood, or a disguise for demon rum. The amount of delusion, quack science, and bold-face lying is astounding -- and there are enough echoes of modern arguments about nutrition to encourage a healthy skepticism of those too.

Even though there's plenty of serious history in here, though, Kawash never forgets that a book about candy should be fun to read. She keeps the tone light and throws in all sorts of interesting trivia along the way. There's only one real drawback to the book -- it's hard to resist the urge to snack while reading it...

[Stephen · Rating 4 out of 5]

A very interesting and well written history of candy, and candy adjacent foods, full of insightful information about candy in relation to war, holidays and advertising. I thoroughly enjoyed it, and am only knocking off one star for the author inserting herself into the narrative. It didn't happen very often, but it's a no no for me. That said, today is Easter Sunday, I had three cavities filled on Thursday, and I'm enjoying a Necco® Peach Blossom Peanut Butter In A Crunchy Candy Shell right now.

[Celine · Rating 5 out of 5]

Could not be happier that I stopped to pick this off the shelf at the library! Thoroughly researched and incredibly fascinating. Apparently candy has been at the center of multiple societal shifts over the past century and somehow managed to last through each new cycle of mis-information, new diet/health fad, and the general wave of ill-will from parents. Proud to say I made it through a whole 3/4 of this book before I finally caved and grabbed a bag of twizzlers to snack on. I feel like that's an accomplishment worth touting!

[Loralee · Rating 4 out of 5]

Halloween math doesn’t add up. Children trick-or-treat at office parties, church events, and neighborhoods, celebrating Halloween by maximizing candy collection. But many parents don’t want their children actually eating that much candy. They buy it back, trade it for toys, throw it away, or turn it into dazzling science experiments. Some protect their children by baking the candy into holiday sweets, sending it to the office, donating it to the homeless, or mailing it to troops overseas, so that instead of removing calories from circulation, they’re merely transferring them. What a twisted love/hate relationship we have with our sweets!

According to Samira Kawash, author of Candy: A Century of Panic and Pleasure, this ambivalence is nothing new. Her new book covers the recent history of candy, starting in the 1800’s before mass production kicked off the candy industry. From a very occasional holiday treat, candy became a national phenomenon with households and small factories producing thousands of varieties for their local markets (many went under because, as confectioners instead of accountants, they couldn’t reconcile cost with income), only to go under as aggressive businessmen consolidated holdings and marketed brands in national campaigns.

As I read, I was constantly reminded that brand success depends far more on marketing than it does on the pure merits of the product. Kawash walks us through the early growth of the candy industry, as it developed from thousands of small-business home-cooks to bigger companies that figured out successful naming and marketing strategies. (Babe Ruth was not allowed to profit from the success of the candy bar supposedly NOT named after him, nor to put his own name on a similar bar.) Candy marketers attempted to incorporate the latest scientific findings, so that early on in candy’s history, when all carbohydrates were thought to be equal, ads proclaimed “Candy is delicious food, enjoy some every day,” or tried to paint dextrose as a healthier form of sugar. Candy even became a target of the burgeoning cigarette industry with Lucky’s campaign: “Reach for a Lucky instead of a sweet.”

As candy became part of the national culture, so did candy detractors. Periodic panics about candy reflected our country’s uneasiness about mass production, sanitation, artificial ingredients, and pure pleasure. One early dieter wrote in religious terms, equating indulgence with sin, and the follow-up with repentance, a mindset which seems to have worked its way into the national psyche. Candy was also thought by some intellectuals with (not enough) knowledge of chemistry to behave like alcohol when ingested, since it was broken down into similar component carbohydrates. In fact, the current debates about candy--how to avoid it, how much it contributes to obesity, and whether or not children should eat it or not--have actually been cycling through public discourse for over 100 years.

Some candy mythology gets debunked along the way. Kawash tackles our fear of adulterated Halloween candy with the news that there has never been an authenticated case of a villain passing out deadly candy to trick-or-treaters. (To be complete, she does cite an occasion in 1959 when a grumpy doctor coated candies in laxatives, or a time when a small child shoved a pin in his own candy and showed his parents so he could blame his neighbors, or times when children’s deaths were wrongly blamed on tainted candy because parents were manufacturing evidence to clear themselves of crime.) Kawash also takes on the recent research about chocolate’s fabulous health benefits by pointing out that the research is mostly industry-funded, and often tests chocolate in forms we don’t actually eat. (Personally, though, I’d rather believe ALL of the positive findings and use chocolate as my daily vitamin!)

Speaking of vitamins, Kawash points out something that I have also noticed in my years of writing about candy: we worry about genuine candy, but don’t recognized how many other new types of “food” really also qualify as candy, such as gummi vitamins. The Kellog’s snack bars at Costco reminded me of the chapter in which we learn that most candy companies missed the boat when it came to candification: it was companies like cereal manufacturers who “candified” breakfast cereal, created the “granola” bars that are really candy bars in disguise, or turned fruit into “fruit snacks” indistinguishable from their gummy candy counterparts. Snickers, with their “Packed with peanuts” slogan, was one rare exception.

Kawash closes with an appeal for common-sense candy eating. Avoid the “candy” that masquerades as cereal, snack bars, or drinks. Avoid the other highly-processed foods that also contribute to our national obesity epidemic. Eat real food, good food. And when you want a treat, eat candy.


(Note: this copy was sent to me, free of charge, for review, after I requested it. Since I’d followed Kawash’s blog at candyprofessor.com for awhile, I knew the book would be good.)

(Another note: I love Kawash’s transitions. Ever chapter leads nicely into the next chapter, almost like a Nancy Drew cliffhanger!)

[Erica · Rating 4 out of 5]

This is an interesting history of candy in general and of specific candies. Very readable.

[Dave Courtney · Rating 4 out of 5]

The book begins with a question. Is candy evil or simply misunderstood? A question that presupposes the more complicated notion that we do in fact consider candy to be evil, a notion the book then looks to uncover and explore in detail by narrowing in on America as candy's most complicated and mired battleground.

To be upfront, there is a central flaw to this book. It is not entirely clear upfront where the author is headed. In this sense it has a "I am figuring this out on the go" sort of feel that disguises what also feels like a clear progression towards a particular conclusion and pre-determined agenda. This is something that marred my ability to trust the author as I was reading through it. I was asked a few times as I was reading through this book what it was about and what the authors stance was on the books central question, is candy evil. And I was unable to answer the question, because in truth I didn't really know where they were heading until I got to the end.

I would have preferred a clear thesis up front so that I could know the case the author was trying to build. That way it could have allowed me to measure my own biases and opinions and concerns against the information and research. So for the sake of this review here is the authors final stance: Food is food, candy is candy and it's okay to enjoy some candy as long as we are also eating real food.

Also to be upfront, there is a part of her conclusion that I felt was slightly misrepresented, which has to do with her argument about the confusing relationship between candy and food. I will flesh this out in my review below, but suffice to say she sees the "candification" or "processing" of food as the real evil, and the case she builds against processed food essentially relies on the following submission: processed food is evil.

I feel like there could be a companion book to this that reads "Processed Food: A Century of Panic and Pleasure" that could easily make a similar point. Which is just to say I am not entirely convinced the research and argumentation she provides clearly establishes that processed foods are evil, if only because she glosses over the idea that not all processed foods are the same. She alludes to the fact at certain points that we can certainly measure "processed" against a particular scale, but I felt like she sets up the science of food preservation to be seen entirely through a negative lens. My personal view is that processed doesn't necessarily equal bad, and certainly doesn't equal bad in the same way. And misunderstanding what an ingredient actually is represents a growing problem in the modern day marketing (and fear mongering) of food.

With that established, that doesn’t mean the question she poses isn’t compelling or that this well researched book doesn't offer some informative context and fascinating insight into our relationship to candy. Absolutely it does, and for the most part I was quite enamoured with this book overall.

Some things that I found especially interesting and informative:

1. Considering candy's relationship to food
The buik of Kawash’s concluding points (thesis) flow out of a discussion of how and when and why candy came to be seen as different, and in some ways not so different than food. If her conclusion is that candy is not food and that’s okay, the basic pattern of each chapter essentially takes a moment in candy’s history (as a primarily americanized product) and frames it against a natural progression towards this concluding thought. While our history with candy is complicated (fueled by a mix of economics, culture and social norms that have continuously blurred and confused candy’s relationship to food), understanding this history can help make our relationship to candy today less complicated. How? Understanding the history can allow us to differentiate between what is food and what is candy and then focus on the real problem- the candification of food. Candy only becomes a problem when the food we eat is also candy.

2. The origins of candy set in relationship to the industrialized world
Since I am only familiar with candy in a post-industrialized, americanized setting, I found it incredibly interesting to be able picture and consider (thanks to this book) the early American landscape where candy first set itself apart from its overseas representation. A world before individually "wrapped" became a thing. A world before it became mass-produced.

This was a world where sanitation had yet to be a major concern, a world where candy was candy, food was food and no single candy looked the same. This was a world that saw candy as a strange novelty that coloured the walls of your local corner store with jars and jars of variety. It was the age of the penny candy where no matter your economic condition candy was something you could enjoy, a demonstration of the art and uniqueness of localized candy makers rather than the streamlined and colonized forms we know today.

Which of course means much of our complicated relationship to candy flows out of its eventual industrialization.

3. The role of industrialization to trusting and not trusting our food
As with much in this book the discussion of candy is intimately connected to a discussion of food at large. The author considers the way candy opened the door for the “processed” foods we know today that line our grocery isles, largely by blurring the lines between what is candy and what is food, but also by opening up the possibility of mass produced, quick meal options.

Of course much of this also follows our less than linear relationship to sugar, something that also connects intimately to social norms, issues with body image, and the romanticization of industrialization.

As a side note here, it is interesting to note that much of candy's presence today is built on the power of nostalgia, but this is not nostalgia for the early days of candy. It is nostalgia built on a vision of a post-industrialized landscape.

The author really does make this point easy to understand. Before candy became industrialized and mass produced we understood food as that which we could see. Our relationship to food was intimately connected to the relationships we had with the local corner store owner and producers. Because we lived in close proximity to the food we ate we were able to trust that the food we were eating was in-fact food, and that the candy we were buying was in fact candy. As candy became mass produced and the science of food preservation became more and more common, these lines became muddied and we became more and more distanced from exactly what it was that we were eating and more dependent on marketers to make these lines less muddied, so much of which went on to revolve around our love-hate relationship to sugar.

4. Candy isn’t the problem, the food in our pantry is the problem
If the authors final conclusion owes much to anything, it would be the idea that we consume far more sugar in our every day meals than we do through candy, and we do this because of a history of confusing marketing surrounding the benefits and harm of sugar itself. This reality is just as evident today as it was all those years ago. Fats used to be the central evil, and thus candies were ripe to survive and to thrive. Today it is sugar. And yet understanding sugar today is far more complicated than it was before.

5. The relationship of candy to the progression of social norms and economic uncertainty.
I found it really interesting to see how candy's presence in America ebbs and flows with changing male-female stereotypes. At one point it is seen as a product for women and children. At another it becomes the food that supported the men going off to war. At one point it serves as a means of affordable and economical nutrition. At the next, in a post-war environment of economic certainty and boom it becomes a picture of self and over indulgence. And with every shift in social norms we can see marketing responding in particular ways. It just shows how much we have become informed and influenced by marketing in a post-industrialized world.

6. The connection to vices
When weight and certain body types became a concern in America candy was seen as the primary cause of the problem. Before this candy had been seen as the solution to a deprived nation at war, the mark of someone who could afford to eat well. And yet through this all the concerns of candy companies became more and more prevalent, especially in the post-war period that followed.

It's funny to consider that at one point in order to market candy in an age of weight concern that followed the post-war prosperity, companies suggested cigarettes as a way to combat candy’s weight inducing component. Or when men preferred drink to candy (the more manly, harder vice), candy was considered the softer vice conducive to feminine stereotypes. When women looked for something harder they paired candy eating with their own alcoholic drink of choice largely outside of the male dominated society that surrounded them.

It's also fun to read how candy flirted with adult vices (candy cigarettes) while also entertaining healthy, adult varieties (the plethora of vegetable and meal based candy concoctions, such as the sweet potatoes and marshmallow dish that still is around today).

All of which suggests that as candy became more and more villianized it also became co-opted in its relationship to vice.

If I could say one last thing before offering some small tidbits that I found entertaining, it would be this. It is a large reminder that for as much as things change things also stay the same. So much in this book is easily recognizable in its modern form. And one of the patterns that I recognized in this book was the connection to candy as evil or candy as pleasure to our larger social concerns.

What seems inevitable when seeing this through the pages of history is that we are forever prone to extremes. We push back against the things that are pleasurable by labeling them as evil, turning them into a vice and in turn willingly depriving ourselves of that which is pleasurable. And we do this for two reasons
1. Mistrust of the powers that seemingly control our consumption of these things and understanding of what is good and what is not, and...

2. Fear of the ways these things can or will cause us harm.

In truth all of our fears are based on things we misunderstand or misappropriate, and secondly a feeling that we are not in control.

And yet what is also clear is that intentional deprivation almost always leads to negative outcomes- it leads to depression which leads to rebellion which eventually leads to overindulgence.

Of course this travels dangerously close to that tired cliche of everything in moderation, which isn't exactly what I am suggesting here. I think the discussion is more nuanced than that cliche allows. But I do think this book points to what is essentially a predictable component of our human nature, even if it might be coloured on this topic of candy by some of the unique challenges of a post-industrialized nation (which we still need to overcome).

So what is the solution? I'm not sure. But I do think the author's conclusion is fair and right and good. And I would be willing to stretch her conclusion even further than she does. It is what we misunderstand and can't control that leads us to see "processed" as evil and sugar as the enemy and industrialization as the great evil. And yet processed doesn't equal evil or harmful and sugar, as the book does a brilliant job of pointing out, is not the great enemy. And industrialization is far from a streamlined discussion of societal woes.

Which means we need to stop turning "candy" into the villain simply because it is pleasurable and therefore must be bad. And I could add that if we stop turning particular things into the "villain" maybe that is one way to also protect us (somewhat) against the cycle of our human nature that leads to over indulgence?

To that end, and to end this review, here are some small tidbits that I found interesting and fun to read:

1. The way Kellog’s humble beginnings in breakfast ideals led the way to the eventual rise of sugar coated breakfast cereals as an American staple.

2. Hershey started with adult candy before becoming the innocent darling of the candy world it is today.

3. The origin of “wrapped” candy began in a still standing candy company in Nashville, and wrapped candy opened the door for target audiences and branding.

4. Margarine was invented out of the assumption that something in the cow’s udder mixed with something in the cow’s fat to make milk. So they trimmed the fat off the cow meat and churned it together with crushed up cow udder to make the first margarine… and it worked!

5. The name “Milky Way” was branded after people started to frown on the idea of “malted milk”. Thus to call their candy “milky way” was to connect it back to real milk. And to that same end, many of the marketing phrases still popular today (the nuts in Snickers for example) came out of a push to make candy a "healthful" food.

6. Joseph Lister (the make of Listerine) was the first to really publicize the notion of food preservation.

7. Flouride was funded by the candy marketers as a means of ensuring candy production and combatting tooth decay

[Preetam Chatterjee · Rating 5 out of 5]

#Binge Reviewing my previous Reads #Food History

Samira Kawash’s Candy: A Century of Panic and Pleasure is a work that sneaks up on you. At first glance, it looks like a playful history of sweets—a book you’d dip into for nostalgic anecdotes about Hershey bars, penny candy, and Halloween rituals. But the moment you begin reading, you realise this isn’t just about the confectionery industry—it’s about the cultural imagination, about how societies project their fears, desires, and contradictions onto something as small and brightly wrapped as a peppermint drop. Where most food historians are content to narrate supply chains or describe shifts in agricultural economies, Kawash insists that candy is not just stuff we eat. It is a cultural text, a lightning rod for moral panic, and, at the same time, an unapologetic site of pleasure.

Her central thesis is both mischievous and deeply persuasive: candy is not the toxic “other” of food culture, as we are so often told. Rather, it is the logical product of modernity itself. The industrial revolution, with its mechanised sugar factories and mass production, gave us candy in the form we now know it. But candy was never just about sugar. It was about packaging, advertising, marketing, and the invention of a consumer identity centred on desire. Candy became the epitome of processed pleasure, and, in the process, it became a perfect scapegoat. For doctors, parents, and reformers, candy stood for all that was wrong with industrial society: artificiality, excess, lack of control, and childishness.

And yet, paradoxically, candy never went away. It is still with us, still seductive, still troubling. Kawash doesn’t allow us to dismiss candy as a mere guilty pleasure. Instead, she asks us to see how, for over a century, it has mirrored America’s dreams and dreads about food, health, and modernity itself.

One of Kawash’s sharpest observations is how easily candy has been cast as the villain of modern diets. This is where her argument intersects fruitfully with Harvey Levenstein’s Fear of Food: A History of Why We Worry about What We Eat. Where Levenstein traces the rise of nutritional anxiety—vitamins, calories, cholesterol—Kawash shows how candy became the easy target for those anxieties.

Think of it: candy is pure sugar, pure artifice, wrapped in gaudy packaging. It has no “redeeming” nutritional value, no claim to be natural or wholesome. That makes it the perfect stand-in for what reformers dislike about modern consumer culture. Doctors can rail against cavities, parents against hyperactive children, and social critics against the loss of restraint—and candy is sitting there, innocent and defenceless, yet endlessly consumable.

What Kawash shows, however, is that this demonisation is historically contingent. Candy was not always evil. In fact, in the early twentieth century, candy was often marketed as a source of energy, even as healthful food. Soldiers in World War I and World War II carried chocolate bars as rations; factory workers were told to keep up stamina with sweets; children were given candy as a reward for good behaviour. The transformation of candy into a symbol of poison and panic says less about the actual properties of sugar and more about cultural anxieties projected onto it.

Perhaps the most fascinating sections of Kawash’s book are about children. If candy is the villain of modern diets, then children are its ideal victims—or, depending on your view, its natural consumers. Kawash details how candy and childhood became intertwined in American cultural life.

Think about Halloween: the one night of the year when children are allowed—encouraged, even—to binge on candy. The ritualisation of candy in this holiday speaks volumes about the uneasy balance between pleasure and fear. Parents stockpile candy, children hoard it, and yet the whole event is overshadowed by warnings: don’t eat too much, don’t trust strangers, don’t get cavities. Candy is both the gift and the threat, the prize and the punishment.

Kawash points out that children’s sweet tooth has become a cultural obsession. In part, this is because children stand in for innocence and unrestrained desire. To watch a child eat candy is to watch pleasure unmediated by guilt. Adults, by contrast, are expected to exercise restraint. So children become a symbolic battleground: their consumption of candy is both tolerated and feared, celebrated and policed.

This tension is not new. In the early twentieth century, penny candy shops became spaces where children exercised consumer agency. For just a cent, a child could choose from dozens of brightly coloured sweets, a form of consumer choice otherwise denied to them. Reformers worried that candy was teaching children the wrong lessons about consumption, encouraging indulgence, waste, and frivolity. Kawash shows how these debates about children and candy were really debates about modern consumer culture itself.

Another delicious irony that Kawash uncovers is how candy—so often demonised—was also elevated to patriotic status during wartime. During both world wars, candy was part of military rations. Chocolate bars were not only a source of quick energy but also a morale booster.

The Hershey Company’s role in producing ration bars for American soldiers is a striking example. Candy was not frivolous; it was part of the war machine. Soldiers came home with the taste of chocolate in their mouths, and the candy industry flourished as veterans continued to crave it.

This dual role—candy as poison and candy as patriotism—captures the contradictions that Kawash loves to highlight. Candy is never just one thing. It is multivalent, carrying meanings that shift depending on cultural context.

If candy is modernity’s child, advertising is its twin. Kawash devotes significant attention to the rise of advertising in shaping candy’s cultural role. Candy is pure branding: the colours, the wrappers, the mascots, the jingles. Think of M&M’s characters, or the distinctive red of a Coca-Cola bottle. Candy’s allure is inseparable from its marketing.

Critics often decry candy’s artificiality: the bright dyes, the artificial flavours, the packaging. But Kawash argues that this artificiality is precisely the point. Candy never pretended to be natural. It was openly artificial, openly about pleasure. Unlike processed foods that masquerade as wholesome (fortified cereals, margarine with added vitamins), candy is honest in its excess. It says, 'I am here for fun, for indulgence, for delight.' That honesty is what makes Candy both troubling and irresistible.

Reading Kawash in the context of other food histories deepens her impact. Elizabeth Abbott’s Sugar: A Bittersweet History traced sugar’s role in slavery, empire, and capitalism. Kawash, in a sense, picks up where Abbott leaves off: once sugar is industrialised and democratised, it becomes candy. The historical weight of sugar—the brutality of plantations, the global trade—haunts every candy bar, even if we forget it.

Rachel Laudan’s Cuisine and Empire emphasised how cooking technologies and empires shaped what we eat. Kawash shows that candy, too, is about technology and empire: without industrial machinery, without global sugar, and without marketing networks, there is no candy industry.

Harvey Levenstein’s Fear of Food situates dietary panic in the twentieth century. Kawash narrows the focus: candy is the case study par excellence of dietary panic.

And Stephen Le’s 100 Million Years of Food places human diets in an evolutionary context. Kawash, by contrast, reminds us that candy is the furthest thing from evolution—it is pure invention. Yet even here, there is a connection: our evolutionary craving for sweetness, once adaptive, now finds its most concentrated expression in candy.

What keeps Candy from being a dry cultural study is Kawash’s style. She writes with wit, with relish, with a mischievous delight in her subject. She is not afraid to poke fun at reformers’ contradictions or to revel in the sheer absurdity of some candy marketing campaigns. Yet she never loses sight of the seriousness of her subject. This is cultural history at its best: rigorous, well-researched, but also fun to read.

In the end, Kawash convinces us that candy matters—not because of its nutritional value, but because of what it reveals. Candy is a mirror. It reflects our fears about modernity, our hopes for pleasure, our anxieties about children, and our contradictions about health. It is a small thing that opens onto large questions.

When we look at candy, we are looking at more than a sweet treat. We are looking at a century of cultural debates about morality, consumerism, health, and desire. We are looking at the ways in which pleasure is policed and yet persists.

To conclude, this book is sharp, witty, and eye-opening. It makes you think twice about the candy aisle, not in the way a nutritionist might warn you off, but in the way a cultural historian invites you to look deeper. Samira Kawash reminds us that candy is more than a guilty pleasure—it is a window into who we are as modern consumers.

[Readersaurus · Rating 3 out of 5]

The perfect topic for the Halloween season. Everything about the beginning of this book is appealing, from the cover to the first anecdotes in the introduction. Candy. Is it a food? Is it evil? Why do we love it so much and why is our culture ashamed of it? Why do I, a vegetarian gardener food co-op board member hiker all-around healthy person also eat so much candy? Kawash delves into the history of candy, candy making, eating, and advertising in America in an engaging and informative way. I'm only reading it so slowly because the print is small and the lines are too close together and my bifocals clearly need replacing.

I took a little break in the middle of this book to devour some YA. It didn't really take a month to read & that should not be a poor reflection on Kawash or her book. Just saying.

So, I have a job I love that I feel 100% good about. Librarianship is a force for good in the world. Period. What is it like to have a job that is less easy to defend: Say, a person who makes flavor additives that make people eat more of something that is bad for them? Or someone who creates advertising campaigns for candies that claim to be healthful but are not? Or someone who works in a lab devising synthetic alternatives to food ingredients which may or may not be okay for people to consume over the long haul?

Apparently, ever since the turn of last century, with the industrialization of candy production, there have been rafts of people whose job it is to convince us to eat more candy. To be fair, there was a time when food scientists truly believed that a calorie was a calorie and, therefore, candy could be an excellent energy source. It is only with evolving knowledge of what makes good nutrition that we have learned to think differently. So much of what we accept as absolute fact (eating whole grains is better; too much food processing removes the nutrients we need; sugar is bad for your teeth) was utterly unknown 100 years ago. I was shocked (shocked!) to learn that most Americans did not brush their teeth daily until after WW2.
It is fascinating to see how much accepted wisdom and practice have changed and will surely change again.

Favorite bits: An investigation into the Halloween candy sabotage stories (razor blades in apples, etc.) that I grew up with finds that they are not true! Also, of especial interest to my family, the inspiration for the drinking song "Lily the Pink," (which has been linked on youtube to Hermione Granger's potions-brewing skills) was Lydia Pinkham, a savvy business woman who touted her highly alcoholic cure for "women's complaints" in between recipes for home candy making.

[Todd Stockslager · Rating 4 out of 5]

Review title: Candyland

Candy might be empty calories but Kawash has written a satisfying study of the intersection of the history, nutrition, sociology, marketing, and even morality of candy. Yes, candy is bad for you, we can agree (although candy companies have tried to convince otherwise). but is it bad?

Kawash argues convincingly that candy isn't bad, evil, poison, a gateway drug-or good food, all accusations or accolades directed at the varied products labelled candy throughout the last century. Part of the problem is the amazing variety of snack items that can be shoehorned into the category. While a basic definition of candy includes small., sweet, and hand-held, perhaps the essential identifier is that candy is "not food", a scapegoat for nutritionists and nagging mothers who use candy to define what is food.

But this is far from a colorless academic course; candy after all is colorful and fun. Kawash documents the early history of candy from the rare and expensive entered fruit or nut treat of colonial times to the home made fudge and taffy of the 19th century kitchen to the mechanized (and often dirty) candy factories of the early industrial revolution. While social perceptions of candy has bounced from fun to fortified food to evil to military ration and back through the centuries, Kawash finds that in recent years candy has lost its identity as other foods have become processed, enhanced, hand-friendly,portable, and between-meals marketable. Now, concludes Kawash, the distinction isn't between candy and all other foods, it is between ultraprocessed industrial foods and foods that are still made of basic food ingredients.

And yes, there is still a place for candy, even in the face of the modern nutritionista soccer moms who stared Kawash down for allowing her daughter to eat a candy snack in front of their children, and gave her the impetus to write this book. Neither a defense nor a condemnation nor an apologia for candy, this is a fun vindication of its worth and continued existence in the world, the grocery store, and the shelves of your pantry.

[Biblio Files (takingadayoff) · Rating 4 out of 5]

Unlike actual candy, this book was unexpectedly substantial. I was expecting something like Steve Almond's Candyfreak from about ten years ago, in which he reminisced about his favorite candies from childhood and investigated their origins and and histories. It was a personal account, bolstered by some research and social history and was entertaining.

Samira Kawash doesn't indulge in her own memories of candies past. Instead she spends much of the book examining the history of candy in America, from its beginnings in the 19th century to the present. Advertising, wartime, social vices, nutrition, holidays, and the Depression, all through the lens of candy, and with all the end notes and bibliography to back it up. In many cases, she discovers that the more things change, the more they remain the same. A hundred years ago, advertisers encouraged busy people to eat a candy bar for lunch for energy and nutrition, and only a nickel! But an ad campaign that wouldn't fly these days was the one from the 1930s that encouraged people to light up a cigarette to keep from snacking on fattening candy.

In addition to history, Kawash investigates the sticky question of what is the difference between candy and food. Marshmallows are generally considered candy, but what about cereal that has marshmallow bits in it? Or fruit roll-ups that are mostly sugar but contain a little fruit? Power bars that contain mostly sugar, fat, and salt, but also provide a little protein? She argues that it matters what we call these foods, and cites evidence that even when people know the ingredients of their snacks, they eat more of it when it's labeled as fruit snacks rather than candy.

Despite its sometimes serious tone, Candy: A Century of Panic and Pleasure, is a fascinating book and a lot of fun.

[Trena · Rating 4 out of 5]

I read this book over a period of many months so I don't have comprehensive thoughts on it. Kawash traces the history of candy in the US from the emergence of the first commercial candies through the present--not just the history of the content and popularity of the candies themselves, but of the moral overlay through which society has viewed candy.

In the early days, 1910s and 20s, candy was seen as for depraved, immoral children--as literal poison. As it turns out, there were some unscrupulous factory owners who cut corners with ingredients and did literally peddle poisoned candy, but as with the razor blades in the Halloween apples of the 1980s this was much hyped.

With the development of nutritional science, paradoxically, candy became food. The focus on calories and macronutrients made candy nutritionally neutral, as long as it fit within the eater's caloric guidelines. This led to the "foodification" of candy, with products explicitly marketed as a wholesome lunch versus an indulgent snack.

Now we've come full circle to the candification of food, where everything is sweetened and commercial bread has as much sugar, in the form of high fructose corn syrup, as a candy bar. Kawash doesn't really make any conclusions, but I think this fact speaks for itself.

[Elli (The Bibliophile) · Rating 3 out of 5]

This was a very informative and enjoyable book to read! I found Kawash's writing was clear, and each chapter was pretty well structured.

I had one issue with this book, which is that towards the end it seemed like Kawash changed the tone quite a bit. For most of the book, it is quite a straightforward history of Candy in the USA. The last chapter, however, read less like a conclusion and more like a whole new discussion about food culture in general and the problems of processed food. I wish Kawash had left this chapter out, not because I disagree with the sentiments she expressed, but because it did not really fit with the overall book. I can see where Kawash was going, since she was obviously bringing in the contemporary discussion surrounding food (processed vs whole foods) but since the topic of this book is candy, not processed food in general, it just seemed out of place.

Overall, however, this book was very interesting. If you are interested in a history of candy in the USA (because this book didn't really look at other countries) I think you would really enjoy this!

Also, not going to lie, what first attracted me to this book was the cover!

[Jonathan · Rating 3 out of 5]

An interesting read about the history of candy, both in terms of manufacture and cultural response. It was fascinating to read about the public's perception of candy, and the seemingly never ending cycle of acceptance and rejection throughout the decades. The author did a good job of discussing the candy lobby and how much its influence has shaped the public's perception of candy over the years. She also focuses on the broader picture of how our culture's understanding of nutrition as well as our eating habits have changed, and how that has affected our candy eating habits. She also discusses the shifting definition of candy. Is candy strictly the chocolate bars and jellybeans we know so well, or does a Pop Tart also equal candy? Whether you prefer your Snickers bar straight out of the wrapper, or maybe instead you choose to serve tomatoes stuffed with chopped Oh Henry! bars and mayonnaise (an actual recipe mentioned in the book), this book will make you think more about the choices you make when you eat candy, up to and including that PowerBar you just ate for lunch.

[Rose]

This isn't so much an anti-sugar book as a history of candy in the US. From people feeling it was poison (late 1800s early 1900s) to thinking it was actual food, and good for you (1910s/1920s: ad from Oct 27, 1928 in the Saturday Evening Post reads, “Do you eat enough candy? See what the modern authorities say about candy in the died—why and how you should eat it. How candy fills important bodily needs, A hint to women (and men, too) who want to be thinner, How to use candy as a food.” To the 1930s and realizing that candy makes you fat, to the candification of all kinds of foods (fruit snacks, ahem—not to mention sugar-coated cereals and granola bars). There was even a bit in there on how candy is fed to cows in feed lots. !! Ack! The author’s opinion is that candy at least says what it is. There isn’t much difference between candy and other processed foods, so if you eat candy along with that, you’re just eating more of the same. But if you eat real food and then eat some candy now and then, the world won’t end. Very interesting book!

[Jen McGovern · Rating 4 out of 5]

This book was very enjoyable-though at times it seemed like it was more about sugar and/or processed food. At first, this annoyed me. i wanted to learn more about candy. however Kawash's history allows the reader to see that these things are inextricably linked- therefore the history of candy can't be separate from sugar or processed foods.i appreciated this more as the book professed and it all made more sense in the conclusion. One of my favorite part of the book was seeing how the ideology about "what is good food" has changed over time and how both science and industry contributed to those shifting narratives.

[Mary · Rating 3 out of 5]

Broad overview of the history of candy in the US since about the late 1800's. Many interesting tidbits about the evolution from home-made (lovingly made by mom), to mass produced ("modern") to too-mass produced (with "scary" impurities) to nutritious (candy was considered a good source of cheap calories in the early 1900's, especially if it contained nuts or some type of nougat (was implied that it contained "real" milk) to junk food, and now to "nutritious" (fortified gummy candies and "fruit" leathers, etc.).

[Chris · Rating 4 out of 5]

Really enjoyable read on the history and composition of this non-food. The author's writing style is breezy, down-to-earth and extremely readable, even when she gets into the science of the chemicals used in candy. It doesn't pan candy, in fact the author is a fan who attempted to make some of the historic candy recipes. Overall, this book is fun and well done. 1 star deduction only for some detail I didn't think was necessary, but that could be my own impatience (and access to books).

[Lily · Rating 2 out of 5]

This was a fluffy read about the history of candy. While I usually love cultural history, this was a little too specific to get much out of. There were some interesting points about prohibition, industrialism, and especially advertising but not a whole lot I didn't already know. I liked the last page where the author basically said, stop freaking out, eat a piece of candy every so often it won't hurt you. I appreciated that.

[Amy Raffensperger · Rating 4 out of 5]

I'll be honest, I was sold on this book the first time I'd seen the cover. This is a rather academic look at the subject the history of candy in our culture, but a very fascinating one. Candy has gone from being a luxury to a very common "junk" food. The author reminds us that much of our processed food is no more nutritious than a Snickers or Hershey bar, so "let candy be candy."

[Allison Burris · Rating 3 out of 5]

This book is extremely informative about the changing perceptions regarding candy in the last hundred or so years. My favorite parts of the book were the ones that talked about the history of actual candies and candy making. I wish there would have been more of that. The author's final position on candy in our everyday lives is worth reading, as it's very sensible and honest.

[Free Library of Northampton · Rating 4 out of 5]

Very interesting book about the science of candy. What exactly is candy? How did it become so popular? Is it really food? These are all questions that can be answered if you read the book!! I think the conclusion that the author reaches is that candy is candy and it should be left alone!

[Adrienne Kiser · Rating 5 out of 5]

Informative, engaging, and fun - everything I want in a book like this! Highly recommend to anyone who is interested in the history of food, the history of the USA, or who just wants to have a good read.

[Lodz Joseph · Rating 5 out of 5]

Awesome, fun and very informative. I love Candy and will continue to have my gummi bears from time to time.