Original Skittles seem an odd choice for a starting review. They won’t get me the indie cred of some more obscure candy, but I feel it important to know where we come from before venturing into that vast, semi-sweet unknown. Skittles have just been there all my life, from my earliest sugar cravings to adulthood, when I can buy them by the handfuls. Sadly, the human tongue burns out long before said handfuls may be consumed. Sugary, rainbow-colored regurgitation is also a key limiting factor, as field testing has shown. Really, buying one of the large bags of Skittles is an educational lesson about the limitations of the product all to its own, but I’m afraid I’m jumping the gun here. Before speaking about scarfing them down, I should really lead up to the first bite.
And what better way than to start with the crisp marketing that they come wrapped in? Honestly, I’ve never understood the focus on the varieties of flavors found within the Original pack. Mars Inc’s “Taste the Rainbow” campaign, combined with the helpful chart on the back of the packages detailing what the flavors mean, gives the impression that they honestly believe, or expect others to believe, that their flavors are somehow enjoyable in their own right. They are not. Anybody who’s ever had a Tootsie Roll Pop can tell you that Skittles are the same sort of flavoring chemicals that everybody uses when trying to replicate real fruit. That strange, uniquely fructose type of taste that makes people call slushies “blue-flavored,” despite the potential accusations of synesthesia. No, the beauty of the Skittle comes not from their flavors, but from their design.
Consider your average Skittle. It’s a thin, slightly crunchy shell, with a coarse, dry, gelatinous mass of almost pure sugar inside of it. The casing itself is not very tasty in its own right, as anybody that’s licked the inside of a Skittles wrapper can tell you. But, when it’s punctured, the sugary center dissolves rapidly in the saliva, causing much of the nearby mouth to be covered in pure sugar. The premolars and canines are particularly good for this, since their position gives an optimal saliva dispersion compared to the rest of the mouth’s interior. Regardless, in this rush of sugary goodness, the flavor gets wrapped up in the sugar itself, which is why the flavor tastes good. The ease of making something taste good by framing it in overwhelming sugar is probably why there are so many successful varieties of Skittles. They’re sugar pills, but the only placebo they offer is the idea that it’s the flavor making them wonderful.
I know I’m going on about this odd flavor vs. sugar thing too much, but it does have implications for the product. For example, when the sugar’s gone from the mouth, the flavor still lingers as a slightly bitter aftertaste on the roof of the mouth and the throat. So buying a pack of Skittles and eating them a few at a time throughout the day is simply not a pleasant option. This means that the most effective way of eating Skittles is to eat them continuously, just before the taste fades and the aftertaste takes over. Yet, doing this regularly results in the sugar burst eliciting less and less of a response each time as the mouth grows accustomed to it. In my experience, this motivates people to eat multiple Skittles at the same time. As someone that has eaten handfuls, up to entire bags, with a single mouthful, I can attest that this is folly. Each additional Skittle adding a different taste quickly turns the mouthful into a bland-tasting goop, at worst impossible to chew because of its size, at best impossible to swallow because of the sharp bits of shell still left inside the amorphous, greenish-brown blob. Even if all the Skittles added are the same flavor, this just also increases the intensity of the aftertaste. The maximum Skittles I would recommend is two. If this is not enough, perhaps cleanse your palate with a glass of water, walk away from the bag of Skittles for a little while, then come back later, after your taste buds have had a chance to calm down.
Since it was a fairly recent phenomenon, I feel a grudging obligation to mention the newer addition of the green apple Skittles to the Original pack. Of course, as a member of the Old Guard, I can only assert that this new flavor is the worst thing ever, which will bring death and doom not only to the international megacorp Mars Inc, but also to several important bits of my nostalgia and probably a few innocent puppies as well. Honestly though, I’m a fan of the green apple. Green apple has always been a favorite artificial flavor of mine, and that little bit of surprise when I bite into one while absentmindedly munching on a bag, and get that crisp burst of green flavor, honestly gave the Original pack the bit of “something new” I needed to start eating them again. After all, when you’ve eaten something your whole life, even the smallest bit of difference can invigorate it.
The Candy Gourmand's Review 