8 Texas Childhood Candies We Should’ve Skipped And 8 We Still Want Back
Growing up in Texas, candy wasn’t just a treat—it was an adventure. Our options were as bold and varied as the state itself.
I can still hear the jingle of coins in my pocket as I pedaled to the local corner store, heart set on a sugar rush. From tangy pickled-flavored lollipops to spicy tamarind chews and classic chocolate bars, every trip promised something new.
Some candies became instant favorites, the kind you’d trade your lunch for, while others left us scratching our heads. Join me as we unwrap the sweet, sour, and strange candy memories that defined Texas childhoods.
1. Chick-O-Stick
Nothing says Texas candy nostalgia like the crumbly, peanut buttery goodness of a Chick-O-Stick. Made right here in Lufkin, these orange-yellow sticks were my go-to movie theater contraband.
The perfect combination of honeycomb-like candy layers with coconut flakes and peanut butter created a unique texture that modern candies just can’t replicate. They’d inevitably shatter into delicious fragments that I’d fish out from the bottom of my pocket.
Sure, you can still find them occasionally, but they’re not the same as the original recipe from my childhood. The slightly saltier peanut butter blend and more pronounced coconut flavor have been lost to time.
2. Circus Peanuts
Mystery-flavored orange foam that somehow tasted like artificial banana? Y’all, these were the most confusing treats ever invented. My grandpa always had a bag of these stale marshmallow abominations in his truck’s glove compartment.
The texture was equally bizarre—starting too hard, then morphing into a gummy mess that stuck to your molars for hours.
Texas summer heat turned them into science experiments as they melted into the wrapper, creating an unholy fusion of plastic and candy. Even the most sugar-obsessed kids at my elementary school would trade these away faster than football cards. Some candy concepts should have remained on the drawing board.
3. Atomic Fireballs
My tongue still tingles thinking about these devilish red spheres of pure cinnamon torture. I once accepted a dare to keep one in my mouth for five whole minutes. Big mistake!
These jaw-breaking fireballs weren’t just hot—they were nuclear-level spicy that had kids running for water fountains across Texas schoolyards.
The burn lasted longer than summer heat on asphalt. The worst part? That false bravado making you pretend you enjoyed it while your taste buds screamed for mercy. Some candies are meant to bring joy, not tears streaming down your face while your friends laughed at your suffering.
4. Astro Pops
Remember those rocket-shaped lollipops that lasted longer than a Texas drought? Astro Pops were my reward for surviving piano lessons, and boy did they make suffering through “Chopsticks” worthwhile!
Created by actual rocket scientists (no kidding!), these tri-colored space missiles had the perfect flavor progression from cherry to lime to lemon. The pointed tip was a hazard to roof-of-mouth safety, but we didn’t care—space exploration came with risks.
The original versions were discontinued in the early 2000s, and while they’ve made brief comebacks, they’re shadows of their former glory. Those modern versions just don’t have the same satisfying heft or flavor intensity that made the originals legendary.
5. Boston Baked Beans
Whoever decided to disguise candy as legumes deserves a special place in the hall of confectionery confusion. These tiny peanut-shaped nuggets coated in red candy shells were the ultimate disappointment for young Texans expecting something exciting.
The flavor was vaguely reminiscent of peanut butter that had somehow gone wrong. Plus, they always came in those tiny boxes that barely contained enough candy to satisfy even the most patient child.
My cousin Tommy once traded his prized baseball card for a box, thinking they were some exotic new candy. His face upon tasting them remains one of my favorite childhood memories—pure betrayal mixed with confusion and a hint of disgust.
6. Tangerine Lifesavers
Sweet citrus perfection in a ring! Tangerine Lifesavers were the crown jewel of the Five Flavor roll for Texas kids who knew what was what. I’d save them for last, savoring that bright orange goodness while tossing the less desirable flavors to friends.
Unlike today’s overly artificial citrus candies, these had a perfect balance of tang and sweetness that made your taste buds do the Cotton-Eyed Joe.
They disappeared from the standard roll in the ’90s, leaving a hole in my heart bigger than Texas itself. My summer camp trading economy practically ran on these—I once scored an entire week of dessert swaps based solely on my stash of tangerine Lifesavers squirreled away in my trunk.
7. Necco Wafers
Grandma’s purse always contained these dusty discs that resembled communion wafers but tasted like sweetened chalk. The multi-colored roll promised variety but delivered disappointment in eight different flavors.
Texas humidity did these no favors, often turning them into a semi-soft mess that somehow maintained their trademark chalkiness. The chocolate ones were particularly offensive—bearing only a passing resemblance to actual chocolate flavor.
My childhood friend Stacy collected the wrappers for some art project, but even she couldn’t pretend to enjoy eating them. We’d compete to see who could frisbee them farthest across the playground, which was honestly their best use.
8. Bonkers! Fruit Chews
Holy moly, the fruit-explosion commercials for Bonkers! weren’t exaggerating! These rectangular chewy candies packed more flavor than a rodeo has bulls. The outer layer was one flavor while the center burst with another—revolutionary candy engineering for us 80s Texas kids.
My elementary school had an underground Bonkers! trading network. Grape-cherry was worth two strawberry-limes in our complex bartering system.
The wrappers made excellent slingshot ammunition during less supervised recesses. Nabisco cruelly discontinued these gems in the 90s, leaving a generation of Texans with phantom taste memories. Modern fruit chews are pale imitations that lack that signature texture contrast and flavor intensity.
9. Candy Buttons
Tiny dots of sugar stuck to paper strips—what marketing genius convinced us this was fun? Every Texas kid experienced the disappointment of these colorful but flavorless bumps that required surgical precision to remove.
Half the time you’d end up eating paper along with your candy, and the other half, you’d lose most of the button trying to peel it off. The effort-to-reward ratio was worse than trying to catch armadillos with a butterfly net.
Colors supposedly represented different flavors, but let’s be honest—they all tasted like sweetened nothing with hints of paper fiber. Yet somehow I’d still beg Mom to buy them at the drugstore checkout, proving children make terrible consumer decisions.
10. Reggie! Bar
Baseball legend Reggie Jackson’s candy bar was the MVP of my little league snack dreams! These caramel, peanut and chocolate masterpieces made striking out in the Texas summer heat almost bearable. Similar to a Snickers but with its own unique twist, the Reggie!
Bar had perfectly roasted peanuts and a chewier caramel that stood up to our sweltering climate. The packaging with Reggie’s face made me feel like I was consuming greatness with every bite.
When they vanished from concession stands in the late 80s, I searched every convenience store from Houston to Amarillo. Nothing has filled that specific candy void—not Baby Ruth, not Snickers, nothing. Some legends deserve resurrection.
11. Bit-O-Honey
Dental work’s best friend, Bit-O-Honey was less candy and more of an endurance sport for your jaw. These honey-flavored taffy rectangles with almond bits were the bane of Texas orthodontists everywhere. Opening one was just the beginning of your commitment.
The real challenge came in the form of a marathon chewing session that left your mandible begging for mercy. By the time you finished one piece, you’d worked off the calories it contained.
My cousin Jake claimed he once chewed the same piece for an entire Little League game—seven innings of determination that resulted in nothing but jaw fatigue and a vague honey aftertaste. Some candy should come with warning labels about potential temporomandibular joint damage.
12. Texas Chewie Pecan Pralines
Genuine Texas pecan pralines were the candy embodiment of Southern hospitality—sweet, rich, and completely unforgettable. My grandmother made homemade versions, but the commercial Texas Chewie brand captured that magic in portable form.
Those copper-colored discs packed with local pecans and real cream had a texture that started firm then melted into buttery bliss. They came wrapped in wax paper with a Texas flag design that made them feel extra special.
The company closed sometime in the early 90s, taking their secret recipe to the great candy factory in the sky. Modern alternatives are too sugary and lack that distinctive creamy finish. Some nights I still dream about finding an unopened box in some forgotten gas station along Highway 59.
13. Razzles
“First it’s candy, then it’s gum!” The marketing slogan was more exciting than the actual experience. Razzles started as tart, powdery tablets that transformed into the world’s most disappointing gum after about 30 seconds of chewing.
The initial flavor blast quickly faded into a bland, grainy chewing experience that was neither satisfying as candy nor as gum.
We Texas kids were left with what felt like sweetened modeling clay in our mouths. My fifth-grade teacher, Mrs. Hernandez, could identify a Razzle-chewer from across the classroom by our distinctive “trying to discreetly work through this disappointment” jaw movements. The only thing that lasted about Razzles was regret.
14. Wonka Oompas
Long before Reese’s Pieces, we had Wonka Oompas—those magnificent orange and brown candy-coated discs with peanut butter centers that made movie theater experiences magical. They disappeared faster than tumbleweeds in a Texas tornado.
Named after the Oompa Loompas from Willy Wonka, these candies had the perfect balance of chocolate and peanut butter, with a candy shell that provided just the right amount of crunch. The iconic psychedelic packaging made them instantly recognizable in any candy aisle.
My brother and I would split a pack during Saturday matinees at the old Paramount Theater in Austin. When they vanished around 1983, we tried every substitute, but nothing matched that specific flavor combination.
15. Satellite Wafers
Flying saucer-shaped wafers filled with candy beads seemed like a great idea until you actually ate one. The bland, styrofoam-like outer shell dissolved into a pasty mess, releasing flavorless candy pellets that scattered everywhere like buckshot.
Texas kids in the 80s were easily fooled by novelty, and these space-themed disappointments capitalized on our Star Wars obsession. The wafer part tasted like communion hosts that had been left out in the humid Gulf Coast air for a week.
My cousin Darrell once filled his mouth with six at once on a dare. The resulting candy bead explosion created such a mess in my aunt’s station wagon that she banned all non-chocolate candies for an entire summer. Some sacrifices yield no rewards.
16. Marathon Bar
Eight inches of braided caramel covered in chocolate—the Marathon Bar was the Texas kid’s answer to “everything’s bigger” candy dreams! This magnificent creation came with a ruler printed on the wrapper to prove it really was as enormous as it felt.
The braided texture made it last forever, perfect for Saturday morning cartoon marathons. I’d slowly unravel each chocolate-covered strand, making it last through at least three episodes of Superfriends. Mars discontinued this legend in 1981, breaking hearts across the Lone Star State.
Though Cadbury’s Curly Wurly is similar, it’s a pale imitation of the original’s generous proportions and perfect chocolate-to-caramel ratio. Some things just can’t be replaced, no matter how many decades pass.