Goldenberg’s Peanut Chews.  Or Chew-ets Peanut Chews.  Or Goldenberg’s Chew-ets.   Or Goldenberg’s Chew-ets Peanut Chews.

I have no idea what the name of this product is.  The front of the package says, in tiny letters, Chew-ets.  In huge letters, it says Peanut Chews.  On the back in tiny letters, it says Goldenberg’s.  And in even smaller letters it says Just Born, Inc.  Just Born bought Goldenberg’s, who were the original creator of the candy.  They either did, or did not, rename, or co-name, them Chew-ets.

I couldn’t crack the code.  Maybe you win a prize if you do.  If you know how it works, let me know, because I scoured the internet for answers for at least three minutes before I started watching The A-Team on Hulu.

Anyway, I saw billboards for these in Philadelphia, claiming them to be a Philadelphia favorite.  I was able to confirm this with the locals.  Apparently, they were created as rations in World War I and then later packaged for sale to the public and then Hannibal shot cabbages out of an air cannon.

What I do know, is that these are “Bite Size Chewy Pieces Loaded with Peanuts” and are the Original Dark variety.  They come eight to a pack.  I think.  I ate all but one and had to extrapolate backwards to arrive at that number.  But it seems right.

I’m torn on this candy.  These are the Original Darks (aptly, not “Dark Chocolate” as “cocoa” is listed sixth and ninth in the ingredients list, and “chocolate” is not to be found at all).  So they do not taste very chocolatey or very dark.  I haven’t had the “Milk Chocolatey” variety yet, so I can’t compare. 

The molasses inside tastes a little cheap and leaves a mildly unusual aftertaste.  Not wildly unpleasant, just unusual enough for me not to like it.  The peanuts definitely dominate the flavorscape, before giving way to the weird molasses finish and Murdoch’s always wacky hijinks.

But what I find strangely satisfying about these is their texture.  Biting into these is an absolute delight.  I don’t know what is but it makes me happy.  They’re thick, a little tough, and a little chewy.  But the texture goodness is fleeting and is soon replaced by the unfortunate aftertaste. 

If they did these with a better molasses and actual chocolate, they could be great.  But since they’ve been around since the First World War, I’m not going to hold my breath.

The most I could eat at a sitting have been two.  Anymore than that and they stop being a treat and become a bite-sized tool of self-destruction.  But popping one before heading out the door provides a nice sweet fix.

Give them a try if you haven’t had one.  Also.  The A-Team.