Thousands of candy bars have disappeared along the road to consolidation, including such recent delicacies as the peanut butter-and-chocolate pods known as Oompahs, the treacherously chewy Bit-o-Choc, the glorious, nougat-and-caramel-filled Milkshake, and the Bar None, an ingenious marriage of peanuts and wafers dipped in chocolate. Also gone (but not forgotten) is the curiously alluring Marathon Bar, a braided rope of chocolate and caramel whose wrapper featured a ruler on the back.

Local products ranged from legendary to outright strange. There was the famous Seven Up, a St. Paul native that included seven different flavors; the nougat-puffed Minneapolis bar known as the Fat Emma and a creation known as the Vegetable Sandwich, which, regrettably, consisted of dehydrated cabbage, celery and peppers covered in chocolate. (The Vegetable Sandwich, whose label contained the bizarre boast “Will Not Constipate,” was introduced during the health craze of the ’20s and died, of natural causes, soon after.) Other bars included the Dipsy Doodle, the Coffee Dan, the Baby Lobster, the Prairie Schooner, the Fig Pie—the list goes on and on.

WSJ