I should start by pointing out that England has produced a lot of great things over the years: the works of Dickens and Shakespeare (among countless others); Gilbert and Sullivan; inventions that revolutionized mining, engineering, plus other industries; and of course, David Beckham Parminder Nagra.

Gastronomically, though, the English aren’t all that impressive. Regardless of whether or not you remembered to prepare for a cash-only doomsday scenario, bringing a date to an English restaurant is a surefire way to come across as a complete ass. Not only do you appear clueless, you must also fight an un-winnable battle against your better judgment by struggling to avoid making offensive jokes about menu items like “bangers and mash,” and “toad-in-the-hole.” More than likely, the “spotted dick” you order for dessert will be the only such dick anyone sees that evening. English food is not to be trusted.

So why does the Necco wafer company feel the need to point out their candy’s English origins? Seems like a bad strategy to me. Volkswagen used to build vehicles for the Third Reich, but they make an effort to keep that fact hush-hush. You don’t see VW commercials that say, “Volkswagen: if our cars were good enough to transport Teutonic war criminals, they should be more than OK for driving your flabby illiterate kids to school.” They don’t say that, because that would be drawing attention to a less-than-proud past.

But the Necco company mentions England right up front.

I should point out that while the wafer has its actual manufacturing origins in New England (part of the United States, I’m told), the wafer inventor was, in fact, a transplanted Englishman born in Britain who later moved to Boston.  I am blaming this Necco fiasco solely on the Brits for that reason.

Now, every once in a while, even a blind squirrel finds an acorn. Perhaps the English got lucky one time and stumbled onto an awesome recipe. Convince me, Necco-people: what else does your candy have going for it? Well, the first thing the Necco site mentions is that they are “a multi-colored, fat-free wafer.”

These, apparently are the primary selling points: being multi-colored and fat-free. That’s it. All this truly means is that eating a handful of Nexium, Nyquil, and dandelions will give you 100% of the benefits of a serving of Necco wafers, with 0% of the chalky wafer aftertaste. I should also say here that I’ve never believed simply being “free” of something makes a particular substance good to eat on any level. You know what else is fat-free? Radon. You shouldn’t try to sell something on the virtue of what it doesn’t have.

Now that I think about it, though, Necco wafers seem to be more definable by what they can’t do or what they aren’t rather than by what they actually deliver. They look like currency, but are not legal tender. They’re the size and shape of communion wafers, but offer none of the promise of eternal salvation. You can savor them - a whole roll, supposedly, takes 40 minutes to eat – but who actually enjoys them? They offer a range of eight flavors, but one of those flavors is “clove.” They’re virtually indestructible…yet of all candies, they are the ones you most want to destroy.

Tags: bad ideas, clove-flavored candy, English food, vomit