The Absolute Best And Worst Halloween Candy Of 2026

Halloween used to be New Year's. At least, the original Celtic festival from which Halloween evolved was. Called Samhain by ancient Irelanders, it roughly corresponded to November 1 on our calendars. It marked the beginning of the year for the Celts, the ushering in of winter, and a time when they believed dead people came back home for a little visit. Sometimes they'd even wear masks to hide from these apparitions. My guess is these ghosts weren't going around and giving out anything made by Reese's.

That celebration of the new has carried over all these many years later, albeit in the form of Halloween candy debuts. 2026 is seeing its share of seasonal premieres, many from names we all know, love, and get in our teeth. You have your creepy cross-promotions, spooky-fied spin-offs, and phantasmic re-flavorings of classics.

Here are six of the best, along with four of the worst, Halloween candy of 2026. None will probably turn your stomach like some seriously harrowing Halloween food creations – although I guess that all depends on your gastrointestinal sugar tolerance. Try these for yourselves and see if you agree –- even if you wait till after October 31 to get them all on clearance sale. No judgement.

Hi-Chew is, of course, one of Japan's leading candy exports to America, becoming a staple of the sweets aisle and checkout-line impulse buys. The Hi-Chew product roster is so deep at this point you can browse through it on the website by specific flavor (30-plus options available for search-filtering, including salted caramel, lychee raspberry, and Mai Tai). Hi-Chew was not going to let Halloween 2026 pass without a fresh drop. But did it drop the ball?

The flavors featured in the Mystery Mix pack are green apple, cotton candy (from its Fantasy line), orange creamsicle (via Dessert line), and the mystery flavor. The green apple is much more sweet than tart, which I'm not crazy about. The cotton candy is accurately flavored, which is a good thing if you consider that a good thing, and has a little bump of something else there to round it out. The orange creamsicle is nice; the flavor really works well in a chew.

Now, the mystery flavor will not be revealed until Halloween, so there is no official corroboration yet. But some Instagrammers are certainly putting their guesses in. It's seems to be within the sweet-fruit range. There's something pear-ish about it, something berry about it — altogether not unpleasant at all. Verdict: You won't be let down by this Hi-Chew bag.

It's hard to tell if Brach's even exists as an entity outside of holiday seasons. Is the name Brach's visible to the naked eye in August? Like it's there but it's not there, kind of like a lap? Granted, when holiday months come around, it's the brand's time to shine. Brach's is not just giving one type of candy corn for Halloween, oh, no. You've got all kinds of Brach's candy corn flavors to choose from.

What else did the label cook up Halloween-wise for 2026? Mellowcreme Spooky Graveyard Candy, that's what. It comes in four different shapes and flavors: the caramel corn (a skull), cotton candy (tombstone), marshmallow (what else, a ghost), and green apple (a bat). 

The caramel corn, I could leave it or leave it. Its like Brach's took the worst part of a candy corn and made it the whole part. The cotton candy tastes like medicine (ironic since the tombstone is a definite symbol of not being healthy), the marshmallow felt like it gave me an immediate stomachache, and the green apple did not come in and salvage the day. The designs are decent enough, and the theme is embraced — making these better to look at than to consume. I'd say a big pass on this one.

It feels like Halloween baskets almost come with a Kit Kat already inside when you buy them. (They don't. Someone still has to give them to you.) Belonging on Halloween candy Mount Rushmore, regular mini Kit Kats are an enduring trick-or-treat trinket. But even the stalwarts have to change the offerings up — and not just by churning out a very meh Kit Kat ice cream bar. 

We're talking about some stock character incorporation. Kit Kat went ahead and used two spooky archetypes for this product. The left Kit Kat has a vampire relief, and the right a witch, stirring her evil brew. Although, the fact she's so cutesy-looking, it's probably more of a nice, homey corn chowder than an evil brew. Both figures are adorable and well-designed. The execution is nice, as well: The characters really, unmistakably come through on the bar. Best Halloween aesthetics of the bunch.

As for the snacking part, the chocolate is much thicker than your normal Kit Kat. It kind of hides the famous wafer, which is not ideal. But all in all the taste is familiar, in a good way. You know you're eating a Kit Kat. Enjoy. And try not to feel guilty about devouring such charming little monsters.

The classic Fudge Stripes from Keebler are, and I don't think I'm being too subjective or hyperbolic here, one of the greatest things humankind ever made. Just a perfectly calibrated, chocolate-caulked cookie that needs to be nowhere within 10 square miles of me when the late night hungries come on. Forget the mystical elven paradise of Rivendell in "The Lord of the Rings," send me to that Keebler tree. The praise notwithstanding, I'm a bit disappointed with this Keebler Halloween take.

I don't know, regular Keebler Fudge Stripes are simple and perfect. But it seems like adding just a little bit more to that perfect simplicity — which is what these Spookie Fudge Stripes do by applying some orange-dyed fudge coating — it throws everything in the universe off.

Instead of an uncomplicated yet compelling snack, it becomes a more-is-less thing, probably because nothing is really added except an addition. The pallid orange color is also not enthusiastically Halloween. This is a cookie that'll get overshadowed and lost on a plate of other cookies. Shame. But then again, the original Fudge Stripes haven't gone anywhere.

The only blatant pop culture mashup here, "Stranger Things" continues its slow spread into all all things everywhere by teaming up with that famous combiner of edible and non-edible things: Kinder. The Italian brand named after a German word has a firm foot in American candy retail. And if you are a major stateside sweet treat, there are Halloween requirements that must be adhered to. For 2026, Kinder went Netflix retro-tainment to make this happen.

Each package comes with one of eight miniature "Stranger Things" Funko figures (I got Will), plus a small string to loop it on bookbags and whatnot. You can also scan the QR code on the small sheet it comes with to "play." I put that in quotes because mine wouldn't scan, so I'm not exactly sure what happens. 

Other than the merch, it's the same Kinder Joy you know and love, the sweet cream topped with cocoa wafer bits. No specialized Halloween flavor of any kind. Is it good? Yes. Is it really just a shameless promotion? Sure. Do you get a free toy and a yummy snack? Yep. For that alone, I'd say go for it.

Coming off a Skittles formula change in 2025, prompted by the removal of the controversial color additive titanium dioxide, 2026 was a year of experimentation for the vibrant Mars favorite. This included releasing a spicy Skittles gummy that no one saw coming. Mars' Skittles entree for the 2026 Halloween season is of the freeze-dried variety: Skittles Pop'd Creepy Crunch. Are they either creepy or crunchy?

As far as creep factor, Skittles did make an effort naming the flavors involved: Ghastly Lime, Cursed Apple, Blood Orange (clever), Beastly Blackberry, and Red Raspberry. Mars copywriters gave up on that last one. The orange, raspberry, and lime are a bit underwhelming and/or too sickeningly artificial (yes, even for Skittles). The blackberry and the apple, however, are nice and tart, offsetting the overwhelming sugariness.

That's the problem with freeze-drying the candy. It add granularity to the already granular nature of the sugar, whereas classic Skittles have a chewiness from the hard shell that counterbalances anything saccharine. I would pass on these. Not even close to the best version of Skittles.

It's not a terrible Halloween gimmick turning a candy into a mock costume accessory — in the case of Hershey's Cookies 'N' Creme, it's vampire fangs. Or, possible werewolf fangs mid-transformation? Either way, the canines are pointy and that's what matters. You may not be able to use these as practical fake fangs, on account of having candy just sitting in your mouth without the mouth wanting to eat it is nigh impossible.

Still, it's fun, it's harmless — also unlike real fangs — and it's tasty. The cookie-creme tango is pulled off well, all within that unmistakable Hershey's snap. If you are a cookies-and-cream fan, this will not disappoint (although Hershey's use of the word "creme" instead of "cream" almost certainly means there's not a whole lotta actual dairy going on, a la Oreos).

As mentioned, the fangs are well-designed and a sportive embrace of the Halloween spirit. Hershey's may run the quality gamut when it comes to its syrups, but the milk chocolate giant is a safe bet come spooky season. The Cookies 'N' Creme Fangs are a good example of that.

Started back in 1895 by appropriately old-timey-sounding patriarch August Goetze, this family-owned candy business from Baltimore, Maryland began manufacturing its famous Caramel Creams in 1918. You know them even if you've never actually eaten one. Also known as Bull's-Eyes, they are little, individually wrapped joys of chewy caramel belted around a creamy fondant center.

Goetze's doesn't go gimmicky with its Halloween-season offerings. You wouldn't even know it was for Halloween at all, if you just looked at the packaging. But the Caramel Apple Caramel Creams do scream fall. Maybe not scream. Politely greet, rather. What is the taste return for what you're unwrapping, though?

I never felt like Caramel Creams were one-biters. You almost have to eat them in as many chomps as you would a taco, because then it's like dumping an entire packet of Domino down your throat. With this caramel apple iteration, it doesn't matter how many bites you have, none of them are really good. For some reason, the apple flavoring gives it, for la'ck of a better term, a furniture-y taste. Interpret that as you want, but it feels apt to me. I wouldn't rush to the seasonal aisle for these.

Like with a chess game, there seems to be infinite, possible versions of a peanut butter and chocolate combo-snack. Reese's of course knows this better than anyone, because they do it better than anyone. For the most part. (We'll just ignore the not-so-great Reese's Sundae Mini-cups for now). Reese's is sticking with what butters its bread for a new candy for Halloween 2026. Wouldn't you know: it's a pumpkin.

A pumpkin design is the safe route, admittedly. You just have to make a kind of amorphous, oblong shape with some discernible humps and you're good. That's pretty much what Reese's did, and I see no cause for complaint. Especially after biting into it.

The pronounced peanut butter in the middle is as welcome as ever, making a kind of golden ratio with the outer membrane of chocolate. Granted, it's not the most original rethink of the Reese's formula, but then again it doesn't have to be. Just know you're getting basically a flatter peanut butter cup, or a slightly wider peanut butter egg. Either way, a win.

It's weird when Oreo makes other Oreo things that are not Oreos. I don't know, it almost ceases to be an Oreo when it's not an actual cookie. This may be focusing too much on snackery semantics, so I instead took the Oreo Dark Chocolate Cookies and Creme Ghosts as they were, with no preconceived notions or brand-related dissonance to distract me. I simply had a bite and judged.

Oh, these are dangerous. These are very dangerous. Not recall dangerous, to be clear. Binge-snacking dangerous. They come in a miniature size that's just asking to be engulfed in bunches. This isn't artisanal confectioning, this is mass-market mouth-filling done right.

The design of the ghost is well-defined, too: a smiley, friendly boo-buddy you'd almost regret biting in half. Almost. You really wouldn't call this a cookie at all, which actually makes it an even more impressive effort from Nabisco. This is a soft chocolate candy with Oreo creme in the middle. What's not to like?

I based my candy critiques on a few different factors that may not be altogether unique. There was taste, of course, and texture, naturally. The latter especially mattered, as the Halloween flavor profile can often be repetitive from brand to brand.  

Then there are the aesthetic and thematic components of each candy. How Halloweeny is it? Does it have a pleasing design? And how was the execution of said design? (Nobody wants a ghost that looks like some half-melted snowman. Right?)

Finally, and by considering all of the aforementioned, what was the level of originality-slash-novelty? Any company can throw out some tired holiday retreads (and they certainly do), but how about a truly new edition to the trick-or-treating roster?