Horehound candy is not for everyone. It is strong and bitter and old-fashioned. It is definitely an acquired taste. My mouth is watering just thinking about one as I write this.
We usually only had horehounds on road trips. Some of my favorite trips were when it was just Dad, Cade, and me heading to horse pulling contests. Long hours in the stock truck. No air conditioning. Just the three of us and a bag of hard tack candy between us.
Dad would usually buy Doublemint gum and a bag of candy. Lemon drops were common. Sometimes, cinnamon jaw breakers. Every once in a while, Jolly Ranchers. But the best trips were the ones when he bought horehounds or root beer barrels.
Dad liked to make candy last. He would show us how to tuck it into our cheek between the gum and the cheek wall so less saliva would get to it. Most people put candy on their tongue and let it dissolve quickly. Dad had technique. He would tease us when ours disappeared too fast.
“Did you chew it?” he would ask.
If Mom was with us, he would tease her about how fast hers dissolved, too.
Cade and I were about the same skill level. We tried hard to make ours last. When I was little, I never won. When my candy was down to just a sliver, I would put it on the end of my tongue and stick it out to show Dad. He would show his. Even though we had started at the same time, his would still have some of the outer sugar left. Only a little had dissolved.
I remember feeling disappointed in a cool way. I was sad I did not win, but my dad was the coolest person I knew because he could make a horehound last longer than anyone.
As I got older, I learned better technique. Over the years, when we compared at the end, Dad’s candy would be smaller and smaller. I was improving. I was becoming more like him.
The taste of horehound is distinctive. Strong. Slightly bitter. Sweet in a way that lingers. When I see a bag of old-fashioned candy in a store, I always look to see if they have horehounds. If they do, I buy them. The moment I see them, I think of Dad, and my mouth starts wanting the taste of one.
There is still a part of me that feels like I am competing with him.
I will tease my kids and Annette the same way he teased us. My kids will politely eat one, maybe, to make me happy. They do not really like the taste. But I do.
Horehound candy tastes like road trips.
It tastes like learning how to make something last.
SIDE NOTE: If you are wondering, horehound is an herb, and the candy is made from its extract. The plant has a grayish, fuzzy look and a strong, slightly bitter flavor. The candy has been around for generations and is usually sold as “old-fashioned” candy. Most people do not love it the first time they try it. I did not either. I grew to love it. You may also see it spelled “hoarhound.” The word “hoar” means gray or frosty, like hoarfrost, which fits the plant’s appearance.
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