5 Classic Candies Massachusetts Kids Regret Ever Trying & 5 They’d Still Love To Taste Again

Growing up in Massachusetts, our candy choices were as unique as our accent.

I remember raiding penny candy bins at corner stores with my allowance, experiencing both delightful discoveries and taste bud traumas.

Some treats became lifelong favorites, while others left us wondering why we ever parted with our hard-earned quarters.

Here’s my wicked honest take on Bay State childhood candy memories – the good, the bad, and the what-were-they-thinking.

1. The Chalk-Like Disappointment Of Necco Wafers

Remember those dusty discs that looked like colorful little hockey pucks? My first Necco Wafer experience happened at my grandmother’s house in Revere. She handed me what looked like a roll of pastel treasures, but that first bite was like chomping on sweetened sidewalk chalk.

The strange, powdery texture and barely-there flavors (was that supposed to be chocolate?) left me frantically searching for a place to spit it out. The worst part? Adults seemed to love them! Massachusetts pride couldn’t save these Cambridge-made disappointments.

Even today, I can’t pass the former Necco factory without shuddering at the memory of those waxy wheels that somehow managed to be both flavorless and oddly medicinal at the same time.

2. Sweethearts Conversation Hearts: Romantic In Theory Only

Valentine’s Day in my Quincy elementary school meant one thing: tiny heart-shaped candies with cute messages that tasted like fruity plaster. I once collected every heart from my classmates’ Valentine cards, thrilled by my sugar haul – until I actually ate one.

The texture? Somewhere between stale crackers and antacid tablets. The flavor? A whisper of artificial fruit that disappeared faster than a Cape Cod summer. Yet somehow, these chalky little hearts became the official candy of February romance.

Made by the same folks who brought us Necco Wafers (should’ve been my first warning), these conversation starters might carry sweet sentiments, but their flavor certainly doesn’t match their loving messages. “BE MINE” should really say “TASTE CRIME.”

3. Mary Jane Candies: The Molasses Mistake

My grandfather always kept Mary Janes in his flannel shirt pocket. Named after the creator’s favorite aunt (not the slang term for something else entirely), these molasses and peanut butter taffy squares were invented right here in Massachusetts.

My first encounter left me utterly confused. The wrapper promised something special – a classic Boston treat! Instead, I got a tooth-sticking blob that tasted like someone mixed peanut butter with maple syrup and then left it in a hot car.

The worst part was trying to politely eat it while my grandfather watched expectantly. Each chew seemed to multiply the candy in my mouth rather than diminish it. I’ve spent decades trying to love this local legend, but some relationships just aren’t meant to be.

4. Gibraltar Rock: The Tooth-Breaking Bay State Betrayal

My first encounter with Gibraltar Rock happened at Salem Willows Park when a well-meaning aunt bought me this “traditional Massachusetts treat.” Expecting something wonderful, I bit down on what felt like sugary concrete.

This ancient New England hard candy – essentially a rock-solid sugar stick infused with peppermint, lemon, or other flavors – dates back to the 1800s. The Salem candy makers who created it probably never imagined children would still be breaking teeth on it generations later.

What makes Gibraltar truly regrettable isn’t just its dental danger, but how it tricks you with its pretty colors and historic pedigree. Like Massachusetts weather in March, it promises something pleasant but delivers something painful instead. Some traditions are better left in history books.

5. Circus Peanuts: The Foam Candy Fiasco

I’ll never forget my first and last Circus Peanut. Picture this: a sunny day at the Brockton Fair, cotton candy in one hand, and this strange orange peanut-shaped mystery in the other. The texture alone was baffling – like someone had figured out how to make Styrofoam edible.

The flavor claimed to be banana, though it bore no resemblance to any fruit I’d ever encountered. More puzzling still was why they were shaped like peanuts yet colored like carrots. Every bite released a strange squeak against my teeth, as if the candy itself was protesting being eaten.

Despite their nationwide availability, they always seemed especially abundant in Massachusetts penny candy sections. Perhaps we New Englanders have a higher tolerance for confusing treats – though not in my case!

6. Marshmallow Fluff: The Spoonful Of Childhood Bliss

Nothing says Massachusetts kid like scraping the last bit of Fluff from the jar with your finger! Created in Somerville back in 1917, this gooey white confection isn’t just a candy – it’s practically our state food.

My mom would make Fluffernutters for special occasions – that magical combination of peanut butter and Fluff on Wonder Bread. I’d watch, mesmerized, as she scooped the marshmallow cream from the jar, stretching in gloriously sticky strands.

The annual Fluff Festival in Somerville still draws me back for a taste of pure childhood joy. While some outsiders might consider it just marshmallow cream, to Massachusetts kids, it’s a sweet, sticky connection to our roots. I’d happily trade a thousand fancy desserts for one more perfectly simple Fluffernutter sandwich.

7. Mallo Cups: The Coconut-Crowned Treasures

Saturday afternoons at the old Dedham Community Theater meant one thing: Mallo Cups from the concession stand. These chocolate cups filled with marshmallow and topped with coconut were my ultimate movie companion.

The best part wasn’t just the perfect balance of textures – it was the little cardboard coins inside each package. I’d save them up, dreaming of the prizes I could redeem when I had enough. The sweet marshmallow center somehow stayed soft while the chocolate shell provided the perfect snap.

Whenever I spot these treats in old-school Massachusetts candy shops today, I immediately buy a pair. That first bite still transports me back to darkened theaters and summer matinees. Some flavor memories just can’t be improved upon – they’re perfect exactly as they exist in our nostalgic hearts.

8. Boston Cream Candy: The Commonwealth’s Sweet Signature

My grandfather worked near Downtown Crossing and would sometimes bring home these little rectangles of heaven – Boston Cream Candy. Inspired by our famous pie but in portable form, these creamy vanilla fudge pieces were dipped in chocolate to create magic.

The first bite always revealed that perfect texture – not quite fudge, not quite fondant, but something uniquely Boston. The vanilla center melted slowly, releasing buttery sweetness that paired perfectly with the chocolate coating. Unlike the pie, these treats could survive in a lunch box or pocket.

Finding authentic Boston Cream Candy gets harder each year, but specialty shops in Faneuil Hall and Beacon Hill still carry this local treasure. When relatives visit from out of state, I always make sure they experience this sweet taste of Massachusetts history before they leave.

9. Life Savers: The Cape Cod Summer Essential

Summer vacations on Cape Cod beaches required three essentials: sunscreen, a towel, and a roll of Life Savers. Those colorful rings weren’t just candy; they were vacation currency among cousins and beach friends.

I’d always pick the Wild Cherry ones first, saving the green ones for last (or trading them to my sister for extra reds). The satisfying click of the roll as you popped one out, the way they’d slowly dissolve rather than require chewing – it was summer leisure in candy form.

My grandmother kept them in her purse for church services, passing them down silently whenever the sermon ran long. Now when I smell that distinctive fruity aroma, I’m instantly transported back to those wooden pews or sandy towels. Some candies aren’t just treats; they’re time machines to simpler Massachusetts moments.

10. Warheads: The Playground Challenge We Still Crave

The unofficial test of bravery at my Brookline elementary school wasn’t jumping from the high swings or crossing the monkey bars – it was keeping a Warhead in your mouth without making a face. These intensely sour candies turned recess into an Olympic sport of endurance.

I’ll never forget my first Warhead challenge. My eyes watered, my face contorted involuntarily, and my taste buds screamed in protest. Yet somehow, after that initial sour assault faded, the sweet center made everything worthwhile.

Years later, I still occasionally grab a pack when I spot them at convenience stores along Route 9. That familiar pucker-inducing sensation brings back memories of playground dares and childhood friendships. The sour-to-sweet journey remains unmatched by any adult candy experience – a perfectly balanced flavor rollercoaster worth revisiting.