Guest Blog Post: Jen Reviews Limited Edition Candy Corn Oreos & CONTEST TUESDAY! Win Some of These Candy Corn Oreos, From Me to You!

Junk Food Nation, it’s here.  A Junk Food Guy-endorsed review of these buzzworthy Limited Edition Candy Corn Oreos. A while back, I asked some of you to tell me what you thought of these Target-only treats.  And some answered the call!  My friend Dana over at Eat Up, Albany posted her take on these Candy Corn Oreos just for me (Thanks, Dana!)  The Impulsive Buy of course had a great review of them.

Most of you, however, expressed difficulty finding these.  They were either sold out everywhere, or not even being stocked.  I myself had trouble finding them…until I stumbled into a random Target store in Easton, MD, and saw:

Limited Edition Candy Corn Oreos: The Money Shots

TADA!  WINNER WINNER CHICKEN DINNER!  I bought some, obviously. Funny sidenote: when I went back into this Target a mere two days later – this display was GONE.  GONZO.  VANISHED.  Like Keyser Soze.

And so it’s time, Junk Food Nation, for another contest!  I have THREE (3) EXTRA UNOPENED PACKAGES OF THESE COOKIES.  And they could be yours.  Three random people will get a package of these hard-to-find cookies mailed from me to you.  YOU WANT THEM.  Here’s how to get them:

1. Join Twitter.  This is a Twitter contest, so man up and sign up.

2. Once you’re on Twitter, look for my tweets about Limited Edition Candy Corn Oreos!  To best find these tweets, follow me on Twitter here – it’s not required, but it’ll make everything a whole lot easier when you’re looking for my Candy Corn Oreo tweets.

3. Re-Tweet the Candy Corn Oreo Tweets I’ll post periodically through the next week.  AND THAT’S IT.  You’ll automatically be entered in a drawing for these cookies.

4. Contest ends at 11:59pm EST on Sunday, September 30.  Get all your Re-Tweets in before then!

5. ATTENTION: US, CANADA, and UK residents (including American Samoa and the Virgin Islands) ARE ALL ELIGIBLE TO ENTER!!!! Did you hear me?  I will mail these across the border to you!

6. Friends can and SHOULD enter, since I’ve become friends with so many of you over Facebook, Twitter, comments, etc.  Family cannot enter, but is encouraged to re-tweet anyways and have THEIR friends enter.

7. The more times you Re-Tweet, the more times you’ll be entered!  Tweet away, Nation. And at the end of the contest period, I’ll select THREE LUCKY PEOPLE randomly to receive a package of these gems.

And that’s it :) Any questions? Ask me in the comments below. Now that you’ve heard my pitch, let’s learn about the Oreos!

Today’s review of these Limited Edition Candy Corn Oreos comes from my friend Jen, an Upstate New Yorker who is now a New York New Yorker.  Go figure.


Hi all, thanks for having me! I’m Jen, college friend/ex-roommate of the Junk Food Guy, and all-purpose
writer and eater. Eric’s been asking me to guest post for awhile, so when Limited Edition Candy Corn
Oreos broke over the internet a couple of weeks ago and everyone began predicting the downfall of
society, I figured this was my time to shine. I’ve got a legendarily strong stomach, health insurance, and
I happen to quite enjoy the taste of candy corn (divisive little things, aren’t they?); my cousin and I even
grew up playing the Oreos Cookie Factory Game, in which we tried to eat the plastic cookie pieces every
single time.

Having lived with Eric for a year in DC, I am all-too-familiar with the fact that no foodstuff gets past
him without tithing to his stomach—the man puts away potato chips like they slaughtered his family—
so when I got a text from Eric saying that a half-eaten box of cookies was coming my way in the mail, I
happily agreed to ingest them in the name of journalism.


It should be noted that when these arrived at my apartment, I left them sitting on my table for a couple
of days until I could bring them to work. I live in your typical prewar, East Village walkup studio, and I
have mice. It’s a fact of life in New York City, and you just lock up all your food and hope they get bored
and go to the apartment of the axe murderer across the hall. I’ve not been lucky of late, and the mice have
recently eaten: coffee grounds, the inside of my oven mitt, garbage, and the mouse-proof storage box
itself. That being said, they did not so much as glance in the direction of these cookies.

Multiple shelf display orientation options.

The first thing you notice about these puppies is the smell, which is quite a feat considering the design is
only slightly less damaging to your eyes than staring at the sun. The scent that wafts off just the package
is so pervasive that you expect to see some sort of bright orange smog cloud rolling through the room. I
am almost certain this is what napalm smells like.

I never thought about this before, but giant candy corn (candy corns?) are a bit terrifying, and that’s
probably the reason it is the only candy that has not been king-sized or giantified or double stuffed. A
huge Hershey’s Kiss is kind of enchanting; a huge candy corn looks like it could be sentient.

Well, there goes my sperm count.

You know, I have actually heard of many of these ingredients before. Based on the miasma of death that
wafts from the package every time I move it, I was half expecting this to contain like, sodium pentathol
or mithril or something.

I have no recollection of taking this photo.

Upon opening the package, I passed out for a couple of minutes. The smell is absolutely, utterly
overpowering, so much so that it sucked all oxygen out of the room. I now have diabetes.

I’m actually now having an inner crisis, which can be summed up as this: what is wrong with my head in
that despite all the evidence in front of me, I still want to eat these?

The front of the box tells no lies.

I split a cookie open cleanly—almost too cleanly, really. The inside of these things look identical to
the picture on the package, and the 50-50 split is so clinically precise it’s a little daunting. I’ve always
seen the cookie wafer part of Oreos as necessary evils that must be chewed to get the frosting into
our mouths in a mildly respectable manner, but this is the first time I’m actually seeing them as serving
some sort of balancing function.

My friend Crystal and I once discovered that she only likes the wafer part, and I only like the frosting,
and we shared three whole cookies in perfect yin-yang harmony until we realized we were being totally
gross. Like any of you have a better Oreo story.

Cavities in all colors.

Self-preservation instincts ignored, I tried some of each color of frosting. The yellow is actually way
sweeter than the orange; however, it’s painfully clear that this shit ain’t of this Earth. Not to get all
metaphysical on you all, but this tastes like you are eating the color yellow.

Let the dyspepsia begin!

The cookie actually does its frosting brethren a WORLD of good here—it brings the whole thing back
down, so you actually feel like you’re eating something normal, or at least next to normal. The cloying
sweetness of the frosting is mellowed out just a bit, and though this doesn’t taste like a regular Oreo, it
doesn’t taste like candy corn either, per se. It’s not that I didn’t like the cookie, but I hit my lifetime limit
on these things at “one”. I’m also willing to bet there is a 1:1 indirect relationship between remaining
years of life and Candy Corn Oreos eaten.

Having spent a lunchtime locked in my office shooting cookie porn, I decided to inflict these on a couple
of coworkers. I found that they all went through the same sort of Kubler-Ross stages that I did upon first
bite: Initial surprise at still being alive, Confusion as to where the candy corn taste was, Slight remorse at
having introduced the cookie to body.

Well, there you have it. I ate 1.5 Limited Edition Candy Corn Oreos and I lived to blog the tale.


Jen, classic writing, and spot-on review.  Overwhelming thanks for tackling this beast.  I snuck a couple cookies before shipping these to her for comment, and she was right – the smell is OVERPOWERING, the frosting is overly sweet and the cookie is just scary. The creme heavily mimicked the sweeter cream found in the recent Birthday Cake Oreos and Blizzard Creme Oreos, and I found that I had to convince myself, “yeah…I guess this tastes like Candy Corn” while silently knowing this was a lie.

This is one of those cookies you HAVE to try, just so you can make a T-shirt that says you survived.  Enter that contest folks!


COST: $3.99

Thoughts? Please comment below (I always reply) or hit me up on Twitter @junkfoodguy or LIKE my Facebook Page and message me there. Also, you can always email me at [email protected]. Let’s hang out.


Junk Food Guy

Discuss - 12 Comments

  1. Rodzilla says:

    Jen is funny as shit (that’s funny), please have her write more often.

  2. Kris K says:

    I bought a package of these the day they came out and they’ve been in my desk drawer unopened. I’m kind of scared…

  3. Albany Dana says:

    (yeaaahhhh…that would be ‘he’ 😉 )

  4. sean griffith says:

    Hilarious, Jen! I was making mental notes as much on the writing as the cookie, which you’ve persuaded me not to introduce into my body.

  5. EowynOfRohan says:

    “You know, I have actually heard of many of these ingredients before. Based on the miasma of death that
    wafts from the package every time I move it, I was half expecting this to contain like, sodium pentathol
    or mithril or something.”

    As my username shows, I am a HUGE Lord of the Rings fan, and in Middle Earth, mithril is a precious ($$$$$ BIG MONEY) metal used to make armor, jewelry, you name it.
    So she/he (JFG is not clear on this) said that she/he thought that the Oreos contained a precious metal used to make armor in Middle-Earth.
    This makes me even more scared to eat them.

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