Letter from the Editor

by sinclair p. munch jr.


Welcome, dear snackers, to the third volume and third year of Snacks Quarterly.

It has been our great pleasure to bring you this publication year after year. Actually, the only thing that brings me more pleasure is the fact that this milestone means I can finally use the term “year after year.”

Unfortunately, our momentous occasion falls on one of my least favorite annual moments: the end of discount Easter candy.

That moment is the crux of this quarter’s letter, but before I can really get into it, I have to broach a potentially delicate subject.

I firmly believe that Easter is the best candy holiday of the year.

This statement is a powder keg. Can’t you see how bold it is? And italic!?

I understand that many of you have just thrown your computer against the wall in anger. Unfortunately, you won’t be able to read my reasoning for this statement until you get back from the Genius Bar, but it will be waiting for you when you do so.

Here it is: for the most part, halloween candy is just candy. I know that there is such a thing as Halloween Candy, but the best halloween candy is just repackaged, regular candy. A fun-size snickers will trump a handful of candy corn any day.

Actually, candy corn may not even be candy. It’s really just an aesthetically pleasing, pre-packaged stomach ache.

But take a look at Easter.

Chocolate bunnies. Whole or hollow. Start with the ears and make your way down to the feet. Or the other way around. Either way, you have eaten a whole animal. You deserve that sense of accomplishment.

Peeps. Riding the line that all great snacks ride between a delicious, textural experience and actually pretty disgusting.

The Cadbury Egg. The heavy hitter. Sure, you will have a headache in 45 seconds, but that may be the most honest, deeply satisfying 45 seconds of your year.

And then there is the simple Cadbury Mini Egg. For me, the best candy representation of the holiday itself. For when you place the first egg onto your tongue, you experience the joy of Christ’s resurrection. And when you place the twentieth egg onto your tongue, you feel the utter anguish of his crucifixion.

If you’re into that kind of thing.

Of course, you would be insane to buy any of these things before Easter. But after Easter, when the 50% Off signs start popping up, things get very sane indeed. And then 60%. And then 75%.

And right about now, those signs are coming down.

I hope that like me, you took the opportunity to procure a year’s worth of mini eggs at your local Rite Aid.

Because it is time to crack open a bag, get comfy, and experience the incredible collection of artists and writers in the first issue of this, our third volume.

Munch on,


Sinclair P. Munch, Jr., Editor in Chief