During the last year, a very strange craze has hit Britain: the American “Candy” shop. Even the word “candy” isn’t one that I’ve heard or seen in a long time. Having raised two children in Scotland, the word “sweetie” is firmly lodged in my brain. So it was weird to see “candy” again. Around Christmastime there were several of these “pop-up shops” in Aberdeen:
Now, I’ve posted before about my delight at finding Heath bars and Reece’s Peanut Butter cups. But since these entire shops started appearing, I’ve resisted setting foot in them. Do I really need to add Twinkies, Cap’n Crunch (clearly a candy and not a cereal), Butterfingers, Hot Tamales and Mountain Dew to my life? Oh yes, I remember all those from my American childhood. Not that we ever ate such things at our house, I hasten to add. Candy was deliciously illicit! All the more reason for me never to go into an American candy emporium. Who knows what might happen?!
I’ve limited myself to the few favourites that are a very special treat, which I get from the Mains of Drum garden centre. They have had a small collection of American imports for a few years now, as the Dafter encouraged me to show you:
When I happened upon their “candy” shelves a few years ago, I presumed it was because there is a small community of Americans in and around Aberdeen, mostly here working in the oil industry. But perhaps they were just very prescient in anticipating the next trend?
I will admit to one other American import that I allow myself to indulge in: root beer. Most of my British friends say that it tastes like toothpaste. I can sort of see their point, but I’m very happy to keep it all to myself. Can anything beat a root beer float on a summer’s day? Possibly only cranachan cake!