22 Iconic American Candies, Ranked

Have you ever perused the candy aisle at a convenience or grocery store and considered the sheer number of options? There's a seemingly endless number of sweet treats on shelves, including a plethora of iconic American candies. With that in mind, I decided to try as many of these candies as I could find and then rank them — because what's more American than pitting popular brands against each other to determine the best of the best?

Now, when I say iconic American candy, I don't necessarily mean a product that was originally sold in the U.S. While this list is indeed largely composed of candies invented and first sold by an American, there were only two prerequisites for inclusion. A candy had to have been available in the U.S. for decades as of this writing, and be sold in virtually every corner of the country.

After tasting 22 indisputably iconic American candies (and eventually waking up from a sugar-induced coma), I ranked them based on flavor and texture. None of these candies were bad, of course — poor products don't generally become iconic — but some are undeniably better than others. Keep reading to see how these titans of the candy industry stacked up against each other.

Confession up front: I greatly prefer chocolate candy (and chocolate-centric desserts in general) to fruit-based ones. Since fruit-flavored candy was my childhood nightmare, a product like Jolly Ranchers had an uphill climb in this taste test. Now, it was still candy, and I can appreciate that there are actual flavors beyond, say, "sugar" in a wrapper. But the pieces are too hard for quick consumption and got stuck in my teeth for far longer than I prefer. Frankly, it doesn't matter which one of the various Jolly Rancher flavors I was eating. I enjoyed this hard candy the least, so it comes in last.

Candy corn is the only non-name-brand item on this list because, well ... few American candies can match the historic origins of the orange, white, and yellow faux kernels. To be honest, I hadn't eaten candy corn in at least a decade, so I wasn't entirely sure what to expect. But these were better than I remembered. They aren't overly saccharine, and they didn't become super sticky after chewing. At the same time, the wax-like texture isn't something I want in my candy, and the one-dimensional sweet flavor profile hampers it overall. These weren't bad, but they weren't good, really, and could only top Jolly Ranchers in the end.

Starburst could have ended up in last place, since I personally enjoyed them less than any other candy I tried. As it stands, the fruit chews place near the bottom because they're far too sticky and would have lingered in my teeth for hours if I didn't have a toothpick handy. I could almost feel the enamel peeling off like a contractor removing old wallpaper. The four flavors (strawberry, orange, cherry, lemon) are fine, though they taste almost entirely artificial despite the "natural" flavors noted on the wrapper. Even if I felt Starburst was better than Jolly Ranchers or candy corn, that's about the only positive I can say.

I didn't have high hopes for Payday, and it didn't really exceed my expectations. I might love peanuts and caramel in candy, but the absence of chocolate tends to be a drag, and this didn't change my mind. I can say the peanuts have a nice consistency (not too hard or soft), and the caramel softens quickly after eating it. However, this iconic American candy left me slightly unsatisfied, as if it were missing something (what could that be?). I still found it more enjoyable than the lower-ranked candies, and wouldn't turn down a Payday in the future. But I'll never seek one out either.

The price tag doesn't match the name of this iconic American candy, which is good; after all, the 100 Grand bar is not worth $100,000 dollars. Now, granted, no candy bar should cost close to six figures, but the underlying point — that this was kind of disappointing — still stands. Don't get me wrong: It's a chocolate candy with rice crisps wrapped around caramel, so it's delicious. But the chocolate isn't as good as what's offered by Hershey or Mars, and the caramel takes a bit too long to soften when chewing it. I greatly preferred it to the lower-ranked entries; I just can't bring myself to place it any higher.

More than any other iconic American candy, Skittles left me pleasantly surprised. Not enough for the most loved candy in the U.S. during the 1980s to place in the top half, since it's still an exclusively fruit-based candy. But I didn't entirely hate the flavors or chewing experience upon tasting the rainbow. The five different flavors in each bag (strawberry, grape, lime, lemon, orange) are distinct from one another and uniquely tasty, while the texture wasn't nearly as sticky as I expected. This helped elevate it above the lower-ranked candies as the second-best non-chocolate candy I tasted, though it couldn't crack the wall of chocolate candies still to come.

If you're old like me, you likely remember a time when Crunch bars had a single CRUNCH written across the front of it. Now, was the decision by Nestlé to switch to a four-piece bar, with smaller writing on each piece, the reason why I ranked the classic Crunch bar in the bottom half? Of course not ... but it didn't help its cause. As it stands, while this iconic candy remains a crunchy and tasty detour from a plain chocolate bar, I felt a bit underwhelmed by the chocolate itself. It didn't seem to melt in the same delectable way that the higher-ranked chocolate candies do, so it falls to the bottom-middle portion of this list.

Twizzlers are my wife's personal favorite candy, so I was hoping they weren't the worst product I tried. As you can imagine, I've never been a huge Twizzlers fan given the lack of chocolate. Yet I have to say the strawberry-flavored licorice-style candy was legitimately tastier from a flavor and texture perspective than any other non-chocolate candy on this list. The fact that the chewy treat was less likely to stick in my teeth while eating it was a big plus, and the iconic candy earned the highest spot among fruit-based entries entirely on merit (and not at all because my wife threatened to divorce me if I placed it lower).

Of all the iconic American candies I tried for this article, few were less inspiring than M&Ms. I'm not saying they tasted bad or were any less delicious than the last time I ate them, so hold your horses if you're a fan of the classic shell-covered chocolate candy. I'd happily take a bag of M&Ms before any of the lower-ranked candies — I'm just saying they're a pretty boring treat. This probably reflects the candy's beginnings as a portable snack for soldiers during World War II, but it also hurts it overall given the stiff competition.

Realistically, I could have made a legitimate case for any of the remaining iconic American candies to take the top spot. So if it sounds like I'm nitpicking between candy bars from this point forward? Well, I am. Since I'm a huge fan of macaroons (not macarons), I've always loved the luscious coconut filling of a Mounds bar. I usually prefer milk chocolate, but the outer dark chocolate layer provides a nice and balanced counterpoint to the interior. Of course, as I just noted, I'm a milk chocolate man, and one who prefers a bit of textural balance at that. Mounds is great, then, but not better than the 12 entries ahead of it.

There really are a lot of peanuts contained within a single Mr. Goodbar — I mean, a lot of them. They're a genuinely delicious batch of nuts, though, and they're incredibly tasty ensconced within the creamy contrast of milk chocolate. Simply put, there's nothing to complain about here beyond a slight lack of excitement. It's essentially just a minor spin on the classic Hershey's bar, and you'll never find me complaining about high-quality milk chocolate with peanuts. It offers exactly the type of delicious experience you'd expect if you love those two ingredients — not the best overall, but good enough to land right in the middle.

I absolutely enjoyed eating a KitKat ... but there was something off about the candy's composition compared to decades past. I'm not starting a "back in my day" type of rant; I just mean it literally tasted different in some capacity than what I remembered from the 2000s and earlier. The chocolate and wafers didn't meld together as much as I wanted, and the ratio of chocolate-to-filling skews a bit too heavy towards chocolate. Again, it was perfectly pleasant, and I'll likely consume an immeasurable number of KitKats in the future. Unfortunately, with competition this fierce, it couldn't crack the top 10.

I mentioned my preference for some sort of textural contrast in candy — as in, I usually opt for candy with stuff in it. But when it comes to 3 Musketeers, the product at hand is sensational enough to overcome the lack of any crunchy element amongst the swirling nougat. The delectable outer chocolate layer combines in near perfection with the chocolate-tinted nougat for a wonderfully melty mouthfeel. The chocolate flavor doesn't reach a high enough level to overcome the absence of a textural component and rank higher, though, hence the 10th-place ranking.

A staple of my high school's cafeteria (back when nutrition was an afterthought and junk food was still readily sold to teenagers), Twix has always been covered in a nice amount of delicious chocolate. There's not too much of it, either — just enough to ensure an ideal balance with the cookie and caramel encased inside. Now, the caramel is quite tasty, and it softens quickly alongside the cookie. But that cookie is the reason it takes ninth place instead of ranking higher. The cookie is a bit bland, which might be by design (so it doesn't steal the show from the other two key ingredients). Yet it's also enough to keep it below the top eight.

I ate a lot of different caramels for this article, and the absolute best-tasting one among them might have been inside a Baby Ruth. It has a beautiful consistency that started and stayed soft, offering a near-perfect foil for the peanuts above. However, while there's an ideal amount of chocolate surrounding the peanuts and caramel, there are way too many peanuts. The ratio skews heavily in that direction, which I honestly didn't dislike. But I'm also splitting hairs here to determine the proper ranking order, so that imbalance keeps Baby Ruth from rising further up the ranks.

This might be my personal all-time favorite candy bar, which begs the question: why does the Whatchamacallit only come in seventh? Well, I'm a writer who puts journalistic integrity first and foremost when it comes to candy bar taste tests (don't laugh, folks). So while the peanut-flavored crisps, slight amount of caramel, and thin layer of delectable chocolate surrounding them both are utterly irresistible, it also contains a bit too much of the aforementioned crisps to achieve true perfection. Even if I'd choose a Whatchamacallit over any other candy, the six higher-ranked candies are slightly better from an objective standpoint.

Remember when I said Mounds was a truly tremendous candy bar that could be improved by the addition of something crunchy in the middle and swapping in milk chocolate for the dark? Sure, you do ... and the Almond Joy is proof that those changes created a superior overall product. The choice to utilize almonds instead of the more commonly found peanuts is the right call, ensuring it remains an elevated candy of sorts when combined with the equally unique (for mass-produced candies, I mean) coconut filling. It can't crack the juggernauts comprising the top five, but it absolutely belongs in the upper tiers of iconic American candies.

Most candy fans know that a Milky Way is essentially just a Snickers sans peanuts. Now, if I'm giving the impression that removing peanuts makes this a subpar product, that's clearly not the case. I'm always hesitant to describe anything as "perfect," given the reality that nothing is truly flawless. But the combination of almost impossibly delicious chocolate, caramel, and nougat is simply perfection. The lack of a textural counterpoint hurt it in the big picture here, but it's an out-of-this-world treat in the end — get it?

I've clearly favored candies that feature chocolate and contain additional ingredients inside. But we're talking about the most iconic and delectable milk chocolate item ever created (and mass-produced) on American soil — meaning all logic goes out the window when it comes to the Hershey's bar. No other plain chocolate candy could realistically come close to a top four spot, in fact, because nothing else compares to this melty and creamy concoction. Seriously, what else is there to say about the Hershey's bar that hasn't already been said? The top three candies might be a smidge better ... but just barely.

I'm not entirely clear what's inside a Butterfinger. Regardless of its exact composition, the fantastically crispity, crunchity, peanut butter-y, toffee-like interior might be the single tastiest candy component I ate during this taste test. It's so phenomenally delicious (did you read that description in the last sentence?) that I don't even mind how it tends to cling to any open crevice in your teeth. In fact, its sticky nature is the only reason it only took bronze. The chocolate is great with the toothsome middle part, after all, and I'm sure I'll eat another Butterfinger or two (million) after writing this article.

To be perfectly honest, I struggled to decide the exact order between first and second place. After all, these are the absolute peak when it comes to iconic American candies — or candy from anywhere in the world, frankly. In the end, Snickers came in second because it has a bit too much going on compared to the No. 1 entry. I don't mean this is a bad thing; the caramel is exceptional, the nougat is fantastic, the peanuts are much less dominant than in a Baby Ruth, and the chocolate ratio is perfect (and almost indescribably tasty). While the simple genius of the top candy couldn't be denied, taking silver among this group of candies is nothing to snicker at for Snickers.

Peanut butter might be my favorite food, and there's quite literally no food pairing in the world more foolproof than peanut butter and chocolate. Of course, when the chocolate in question is made by Hershey and the peanut butter is essentially heaven in food form, the result is the best of the best among iconic American candies: Reese's Peanut Butter Cups. Actually, on second thought? It was never really in question which candy would claim the throne. Reese's Peanut Butter Cups offer an unparalleled balance between delectable chocolate and slightly grainy (in a great way) peanut butter.

Before heading to the store, I assembled a list of candies considered iconic within the U.S. While I tried to stick exclusively to products that were first sold in the country, my main criteria for defining an iconic American candy was something that's been available in every state for decades and (for the most part) can be found as a single grab-and-go item at virtually any convenience store or supermarket.

Once I assembled a list of 22 candies, I went to several stores (including Target and two different 7-Eleven locations) to purchase each item. With the exception of Jolly Ranchers and candy corn, I purchased single-serve products of each candy so I could review every list entry in its most common form.

When determining the ranking order, I focused mainly on taste (i.e., whether it was enjoyable, how the various flavor components worked individually and in conjunction with each other) along with the textural experience. Of course, personal preference is highly subjective, which is why chocolate candies dominated the top half of this list.