It's a Candy Corn Milkshake at Magic Kingdom, So I'm Gonna Eat It
Some subjects are best left undiscussed. Politics, religion, and yes, candy corn. Those little waxy treats are one of the most polarizing subjects of the Halloween season. To 8-year-old me, a handful of candy corn in my trick-or-treat bag meant that valuable real estate had just been compromised where a Crunch bar could have existed.
It is this conditioning that has left me firmly on the “Nahhh, man” side of the Great Candy Corn Debate. I don’t love candy corn. I don’t hate candy corn. But it better not be where chocolate could be. So with these semi-neutral feels, I entered Auntie Gravity’s at Disney’s Magic Kingdom to try the new Candy Corn Milkshake.
Hot on the heels of the iridescent cupcake fad and Peter Pan’s Float sensation, the Candy Corn Milkshake holds all of our instagrammable hopes and dreams for the 2018 Not-So-Scary season. I had to know if it could carry the sugary torch.
At $7.99 a cup, however, it would have to be pretty good.
But let’s back up just a second. W-what does candy corn taste like?
No really, let’s stop and really think about rolling one of those traffic cone treats around in your mouth. It’s smooth and sweet. Your teeth break the surface to release a flavor blast of _____ from its slightly-chalky insides.
Yeah, me neither. But the internet says that the taste of candy corn is mostly vanilla with a toasty marshmallow and caramel sort of flavor behind it. I read this description and then thought of the taste of candy corn again. And actually went, “Yeah, okay, maybe.”
That’s the magic of the Halloween season. Everyone agrees that the inside of a pumpkin doesn’t taste like Elmers, then we name every delicious autumn treat after it. If a mixture of nutmeg and cinnamon can be called “pumpkin spice”, then candy corn tastes like marshmallows and toasted caramel, okay?
Back to me parading this 5-pound shake from Auntie Gravity’s in Tomorrowland to Ariel’s Grotto nextdoor. (Sidebar: Auntie Gravity’s is no place to enjoy a delicious treat for the first time. The exhaust from Tomorrowland Speedway is sure to coat your palette in smog. Walk your desserts, guys. You paid for the pleasure, eat it somewhere pleasant.)
This treat is a showpiece. With a cotton candy topper and a giant Mickey marshmallow poised on the oversized straw, it was made to grab attention. My short jaunt to Fantasyland garnered many a look, and yes, some pointing from passerby. Maybe they knew how much it cost and were actually pointing at my face.
Safely tucked Under ‘da Sea, I poised the straw to my lips, determined to give the Candy Corn milkshake a fair -- well, shake. Here’s what happened (with my lovely assistant, Todd):
The color of the shake mixture was more than concerning. I’ve eaten purple things, red things, blue things, sure. But something this orange? I was honestly expecting to see that color come out of me later. Festive!
The taste delivered. The Candy Corn Milkshake had a powerful vanilla flavor and then a toasty finish. I could detect some caramel tones in there, but as I said in my video, it tasted “vanilla, vanilla, vanilla, vanilla.” (Are you always this articulate?)
The cotton candy was fun to dip and melt in the shake, but when all was sugary said and done, the marshmallow was too much to handle and we ended up just, well, playing with it until it fell off the straw, unceremoniously splatting on the concrete in front of the castle.
So ends the Candy Corn Milkshake. Was it good? Yes. Was it worth $7.99? That depends. I would solidly categorize this as a family treat. Like many beautifully oversized desserts at Disney, this one packs a diabetic punch.
Purchase the Candy Corn Milkshake instead of buying cookies for the whole crew. Gather everyone up, the little kids can manhandle the cotton candy, and everyone is going to get more than enough of that delectable nuclear orange sludge. Take pics, make a Halloween memory as you pass it around until someone inevitably spills it, fights over the marshmallow, or just throws up.