10 Forgotten New York Snacks That Defined Childhoods In The ’80s And ’90s
Growing up in New York during the ’80s and ’90s meant living in a golden age of corner store culture, when bodegas overflowed with colorful snacks that have since vanished from the shelves.
I can still picture myself clutching a crumpled dollar bill, standing wide-eyed in front of rows of chips, candies, and sodas that felt like treasure.
The right pick could turn an ordinary walk home from school into something magical. These snacks weren’t just food—they were tokens of childhood, swapped at lunch tables, shared with friends on stoops, and forever tied to the rhythm of life in the five boroughs.
1. Drake’s Yodels (Original Recipe)
Nothing beat peeling back that crinkly wrapper to reveal a perfect chocolate-covered roll cake. The original Drake’s Yodels had this unmistakable chocolate coating that snapped just right before giving way to that impossibly moist devil’s food cake.
My cousin Joey and I would race to finish ours, competing to see who could unroll the cake without breaking it. The cream filling back then was richer, more vanilla-forward than today’s version.
When Drake’s changed hands in the early 2000s, something subtle shifted in the recipe. Ask any New Yorker who grew up in the ’80s – those Yodels we had as kids? Pure magic that modern versions just can’t touch.
2. Hostess Chocodiles
These chocolate-covered Twinkies were the crown jewel of my lunchbox. I’d trade almost anything to get my hands on a Chocodile – even my prized pogs collection wasn’t off limits when these treats were on the negotiating table.
Unlike regular Twinkies, Chocodiles wore this thick chocolate shell that cracked beautifully when you bit into them. The contrast between the cool chocolate coating and that soft sponge cake inside was pure heaven.
Finding them became a treasure hunt by the mid-’90s. My dad and I would check every bodega from Bay Ridge to Astoria when we heard rumors of a Chocodile sighting. For years they vanished completely before making a limited comeback that never captured their original glory.
3. Planters Cheez Balls
That iconic blue canister practically glowed on bodega shelves! My fingers would turn neon orange within seconds of popping open a fresh container of Planters Cheez Balls. Worth it every time.
These weren’t just any cheese puffs – they had this perfect airy crunch that melted instantly, leaving behind that intense cheese flavor that no other brand could match. Saturday mornings in our Queens apartment meant cartoons and a canister of these between my sister and me.
When they disappeared in 2006, I actually called the Planters hotline to complain. Their 2018 comeback was exciting news, but between us – the new formula isn’t quite the same. The original had this sharper cheese kick that today’s version just can’t replicate.
4. Wise Onion Rings
Friday afternoons meant stopping at Mr. Kim’s corner store for a foil bag of Wise Onion Rings before heading to the park. These weren’t your typical onion-flavored snacks – Wise had mastered a delicate, airy crunch that Funyuns could never touch.
The rings practically dissolved on your tongue, leaving behind this perfect savory-sweet onion flavor without overwhelming your taste buds. My friends and I would wear them as rings, seeing who could eat theirs last without breaking it.
By the late ’90s, they became harder to find as Wise focused on their potato chips. When I spot them now (which is rare), they’re never quite as light or flavorful as those bags we’d demolish on Brooklyn benches, watching neighborhood basketball games and planning our weekend adventures.
5. New York Seltzer
Those stubby glass bottles with city skyline designs contained liquid gold. New York Seltzer wasn’t like other sodas – completely clear but bursting with real fruit flavor that somehow tasted exactly like biting into fresh fruit.
Black Cherry was my go-to, though my best friend swore by Vanilla Cream. We’d collect the empty bottles, lining them up on our windowsills like trophies. The lack of artificial coloring seemed revolutionary back then.
Mom would splurge on a four-pack from the Korean grocery on special occasions. When they vanished in the ’90s, I felt personally betrayed. Their brief comeback years later excited me until I took that first sip – close, but missing that special something that made summer afternoons in Washington Square Park absolutely perfect.
6. Fruit Wrinkles
Opening that colorful Fruit Wrinkles box revealed these tiny, wrinkled fruit-shaped candies that looked like miniature pieces of art. Each flavor actually tasted like the real fruit – not that generic “red” or “purple” flavor other fruit snacks had.
My elementary school on the Upper West Side practically ran on a Fruit Wrinkles economy. We’d trade specific flavors like valuable currency during lunch period. The cherry ones were worth at least two strawberries in our complicated bartering system.
Made by the same company behind Fruit Roll-Ups, these chewy little gems vanished suddenly in the early ’90s. I’ve tried explaining them to younger cousins who look at me like I’m describing some mythical food. If they ever made a comeback, I’d buy cases just to relive that perfect chewy texture.
7. Giggles Cookies
Remember those cookie faces that smiled back at you? Giggles weren’t just cookies – they were edible friends with personality! Each vanilla sandwich cookie featured this adorable smiley face stamped right into the cookie itself.
My grandmother kept them stocked in her Bronx apartment cookie jar. I’d carefully twist mine open, saving the side with the face for last. The cream filling was lighter than Oreos – almost whipped – with a subtle vanilla flavor that paired perfectly with cold milk.
Giggles vanished from shelves sometime in the early ’90s without warning or proper goodbye. For years afterward, I’d scan cookie aisles hoping for their return. Those smiling faces weren’t just snacks – they were little moments of joy that made even the rainiest New York afternoons brighter.
8. Planters P.B. Crisps
Shaped like actual peanuts but filled with creamy peanut butter – P.B. Crisps were snack engineering at its finest! The cookie shell had this delicate, graham cracker-like texture that gave way to silky peanut butter filling that melted in your mouth.
After school in Astoria, my friends and I would pool our quarters to buy a bag from Tony’s Deli. The chocolate-filled variety sparked actual arguments over who got the last one. I still remember the satisfying crunch followed by that perfect creamy center.
When they disappeared in the late ’90s, I wrote an actual letter to Planters demanding their return. Twenty-plus years later, I still catch myself looking for them whenever I pass old-school convenience stores. No modern snack has managed to capture that magical shell-to-filling ratio that made them so addictive.
9. Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles Pies
Green food usually sends kids running, but not these! The radioactive-green glazed crust of Hostess TMNT pies was actually a selling point. Beneath that vibrant exterior lurked vanilla pudding they marketed as “mutagen ooze” – pure marketing genius.
My brother and I would save our allowance to get these from Ray’s Candy Store in the East Village. We’d pretend we were transforming into turtles with each bite, making our mom roll her eyes as we practiced ninja moves with pie-filled mouths.
Available only during the height of turtle-mania in the early ’90s, these pies became instant collector’s items. The taste? Honestly just vanilla pudding in pie crust, but that green glaze somehow made it taste better. Some foods are more about the experience than the flavor – these neon pies defined that concept.
10. Squeezit Drinks
The plastic bottles with faces were practically playground currency! Each character-shaped Squeezit had its own personality and color, making drinking artificially flavored sugar water somehow even more exciting. The ritual of twisting off those tiny caps and squeezing the bottle just right was half the fun.
My sister and I would fight over who got which character. Berry B. Wild (the blue one) caused actual arguments in our Staten Island home. The real pros knew to freeze them halfway for a slushy consistency on hot summer days.
Mom hated them – calling them “pure sugar” – which only increased their forbidden appeal. When they disappeared from bodega coolers in the early 2000s, a piece of New York childhood vanished with them. Modern kids with their organic juice boxes will never know the joy of squeezing a plastic character until it made that distinctive gurgling sound.