When someone shook a couple of strong salmiakki mints into my hand, I popped only one of them, palming the second and slipping it into my shoe while pretending to scratch my ankle. Its founder, Karl Fazer, was born in Helsinki in 1866, one year after Jean Sibelius. So maybe the answer hinged on flipping the question. Wrapped Kit Kats at Nestlé Japan’s Kasumigaura factory before being sorted into packaging. My first kiss came at night in the middle of the street. Clear, my childhood favorite, was pineapple, tangy and tropical. Discover Japanese Christmas sweets with Candysan! Holding the stem in my hand, though, the rote motions emerged in spite of myself: I observed my hands unwind the cinched wrapper by twirling the lollipop head, I noted how I pulled the wrapper’s flared ends down so that it looked briefly like a cape before slipping it off the stem altogether. I wished for peace on earth, the survival of all whales, my first kiss. The point of candy is joy — pure, unadulterated joy. On my visit, the mostly automated factory was making several types of Kit Kat, including chestnut — a seasonal flavor for the fall — made with white chocolate and a mix of chestnut purées from Europe and Japan. (The entire African continent consumes only about 4 percent of the world’s cocoa beans.) “It’s a bit messy, but this is the traditional way to do it,” Annala explained. The pan turns clockwise to mix the contents, and its speed will determine the texture produced. “Not so hygienic. And yet, because we’re human, we can’t help devoting ourselves to the pursuit. Strode had introduced his readers to a word that explained a distant country and its underlying values. It turned out to be the saltiest and most abrasive item on the menu, a flavor assault only heightened by the dissonance of the delivery mechanism. Tejal Rao is an Eat columnist for the magazine and the California restaurant critic for The Times. Dumping the bag of licorice onto my desk, I began to dig around, pushing aside a Super Salmiakki lollipop, a packet of Dracula Piller (salmiakki with a creepy vampire mascot), a box of peppered salmiakki pellets (actually called Sisu! But when it comes to the way things smell or taste, the only language we ever hear is qualitative — good and bad, yummy and yucky, delicious and disgusting. But when I met Petri Tervonen, Fazer’s marketing director at the time, he smiled when I asked if the company had made any big push to export salty licorice outside Northern Europe. Sensory offers a reprieve from such futility; instead of encouraging the quest for a singular “best,” it allows you to define, in plain terms, what sits before you, and determine how it makes you feel. Such innate belief systems defy reasoning. I love biting through the crunchy coating of sugar and citric acid on the way to the gummy center. And if you feel like you’re getting satiated, or what we call burnout, feel free to spit,” Kimmerle offered gently, pointing at the plastic cups she’d set out for everyone. You’ll have to travel for the choicest morsels. Stamping presses pounded candy shapes into sheets of starch powder; licorice or sugary fillings were squirted into molds; robot arms hoisted trays onto drying racks. The wrapper design featured a racist “golliwog” caricature, the British equivalent of a Sambo doll, which, depressingly, was not uncommon in itself — you can find historic examples of noxious candy packaging throughout the world — but which Fazer failed to jettison until 2007, in part under pressure from the European Union. Tervonen had moved to Fazer eight years ago from another of Finland’s iconic brands, Nokia. It seemed almost presumptuous for Nestlé to flavor a chocolate bar like shingen mochi, which is rooted in traditional Japanese confectionary, then stamp its brand on it and produce it en masse. But the best Haribo by my standards is the sour cola Balla Stixx (sometimes dubbed Zig Zourr) with a mallowy interior that I’ve only reliably found in Italian gas stations. British Smarties beat American Smarties, because candy-coated chocolate buttons are superior to chalky pressed pills; of the former, the orange taste delicious.

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