Peppermint bark?

Who is this for!?

Peppermint bark is always making its way onto lists of the most divisive holiday candy. And, like, I get it. It’s the most “meh” of all the treats. As candies go, it’s low-effort and the ingredients are very often low-quality – some Scrooges even insist that it’s impossible to have high-quality versions of the ingredients used in there. Rude.

For me, it’s in the middle of the pack. I don’t dislike anything about it – in fact, I am a mint and chocolate apologist – but I agree with the sentiment that it’s often made of inferior stuff. Plus, there’s usually better candy sitting out all around it. So, it’s kinda like. Why bother?

Well, Williams Sonoma thinks you should bother. Their press releases continue insinuating that they invented the stuff (after 20 rounds of testing!) in 1998. They even instituted National Peppermint Bark Day (December 1st… whoops, musta missed that one.)

But like… bah humbug. In actuality, we have records of peppermint bark going as far back as the 1960s in Florida, of all places.

And it makes sense. It’s a very 1960s confection. It falls right in the confluence of Tupperware, Girl Scouts, harried moms and the post-war lack of interest in cooking. When the countertop microwave debuted in 1967, holiday desserts would never be the same. The recipe goes a little something like this: melt almond bark, fold in a little of this, sprinkle a little of that, let dry.

I also think it makes sense that peppermint would be a popular Christmas ingredient in places that are dreaming of fluffy snow and cooler temps. Plus, it certainly has a festive look!

But why “bark?” One supposition is that the final, shattered candy vaguely resembles tree bark, and thus the name. But a more convincing theory is the origin of almond bark’s name, which is actually the intended use for this easy-melting stuff; they’d cover almonds with it, and the final product looked way more like tree bark than the barks we know today (arf… sorry).

Anyway, a food history theory holds that almond bark derives from a category of French confections known as mendiants. These often included chocolate dollops – or occasionally larger slabs that were then shattered – topped with nuts and fruits (that represented the monastic orders, natch). These are incredibly popular at Christmastime, even without festive peppermint.

If you’re a peppermint bark hater, I can’t exactly say I blame you. White almond bark is absolutely flavorless trash and most folks don’t enjoy munching down on a candy cane on a good day. The resulting confection is vaguely minty and creamy, sure, but mostly just tooth-sticky. And lbh, mint kinda ruins your palette for any of the other delicious bites available to you on the Christmas buffet line.

If you are a fan – or think you could be converted – I recommend:

• Use good-quality chocolate – not almond bark.

• Put down a layer of dark or semi-sweet chocolate, let almost set, then put down your layer of white chocolate. This brings way more flavor to the party.

• Use regular-sized candy canes that you actually enjoy eating. I find the mini candy canes are often the most mushy and tooth-sticky.