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The cookies survived a crowded weekend barbecue full of kids and pie-eyed adults mostly untouched and four days later their miasma remains potent, sealed inside the bag sitting here on my desk. But I tried one. They are an odious creation, tasting of nothing but chemical sweetness and wasted youth. You don't have to eat one to know that, right?
Comparing the nutritional facts and ingredients between CCOs and regular old Oreos, you'll see they aren't too different—the usual lineup of sugar, unbleached enriched flour, high fructose corn syrup, soy lecithin, and "natural and artificial flavors" (as if Nabisco could be expected to use naturally flavored candy corn). The most apparent difference is the Yellow 5 and 6 Lake, the artificial coloring used to give their filling that wholesome sunset glow.
But for me, Oreos and candy corn are two poisons with powerful nostalgic capital. I know they're reprehensible, but when they appear within reach I just can't say no. I'm sure I'm not alone, either—and so the mad genius whose light bulb inspired this unholy union deserves some kind of medal from his masters. I just think the rest of should go after him when these things start piling up in landfills.
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