Dear Nestlé: We Have to Talk About Raisinets.

Posted on
Jun 7, 2015

Dear Nestlé Corporation,

I am writing to you on behalf of my husband, Rand, even though he has disavowed any knowledge of this letter, and refuses to be held accountable for ‘the shit that I do when I am bored.’ But I am certain that he would agree with everything I am about to say.

We need to talk about this, because apparently I don’t have any bigger battles to fight.

Rand is a fan of your product. I assume this is because he lived a strange childhood deprived of both processed sugar and television, and therefore doesn’t know what candy is supposed to taste like. (I, conversely, grew up on pixie sticks, which is an incremental step below actually freebasing sugar.)

My husband is not an indulgent man. He diligently exercises and drinks plain hot water when his throat hurts. Were you to tell me that he is actually from Victorian times, sent to the future to be horrified by the excess of a culture that once gave an honorary degree to a Muppet, I would believe you.


Photo via USA Today. (And they say journalism is dead.)

Consequently, he enjoys Raisinets. He prefers the dark chocolate covered variety, because he’s turning 80 next month and they’re easiest on his gallbladder.

(Rand would like me to note that he’s going to be 36 and his gallbladder is just fine. Which means that he eats Raisinets for the laxative benefits.

Rand would also like me to note that I made up that part about the laxative. But I didn’t.

Rand says, “Yes, you did.”)

I, personally, have strong objections to the presence of raisins in food. There are inherent problems in taking a fruit that is mediocre to begin with, and then leaving it out in the sun until it resembles a tiny mummified testicle. I have enjoyed raisins exactly once, when they were soaked in rum and served alongside a fancy dessert.

Which probably just means that I like rum. And fancy desserts.

But raisins on their own are horrible. And while I have spent long hours trying to understand the development process behind Raisinets, I have trouble imagining it.

“We need ideas for a new type of candy that 98% of the population will find repellent.”

“Hmmm … how about a chocolate bar that’s full of raisins?”

“Still too appealing.”

“We could barely cover each individual raisin with chocolate, so that they sort of look like rabbit turds?”


Because we live in the great land of America, we often purchase these god-forsaken candies in sacks that, given their size and weight, could also be used to hold back rising waters in low areas where flooding is a risk. I assume that the intent behind this packaging was for customers to ladle the Raisinets directly out of the bag and into their mouth, rendering the nutritional information at back null and void, like our forefathers intended. But because my husband is convinced he’s the protagonist in some Dickensian novel, he just shook a meager few out onto a plate.

He did so the other night, and we both noticed something looked off about these Raisinets, which is a pretty damning statement to make about a candy that looks like something you’d find on the floor of a hamster cage to begin with.

Some of these Raisinets weren’t chocolate covered. Stripped of their coating, they ceased to be Raisinets. They were now simply raisins.



Can you imagine the sort of carnage that Willy Wonka would unleash if this sort of substandard shit were to come out of his factory? The entire place would be littered with the broken bodies of Oompa Loompas and you’d have a handful of children near death from chocolate-coating asphyxiation, like that woman from Goldfinger.


Some of the raisins were rolling around loose in the bag. Others had affixed themselves to regular Raisinets, the candy equivalent of that creepy guy from Total Recall.

Even my husband, who is one of the 12 people in the continental U.S. who voluntarily buys your product, was horrified.

If he had wanted to eat a bunch of raisins, he might as well have … you know what? I can’t even think of anything comparable because THERE IS NO WAY ANYONE WOULD EVER WANT TO EAT A BUNCH OF RAISINS. You could lock me in a windowless room for days on end with no food, and if you tossed a box of raisins in, I would probably eat them, but slowly and disdainfully, and only after making sure there wasn’t another prisoner I could cannibalize.

And don’t you even think about telling me that “raisins are nature’s candy.”

THAT STATEMENT IS MEANINGLESS. It’s like saying that dysentery is “nature’s hot new celebrity diet” or human testicles are “nature’s cat toy.”

These are naked mole rats:

They sort of resemble pink raisins. I HAVE COME FULL CIRCLE.

THEY ARE SUPPOSED TO LOOK LIKE THAT. They are evidence that nature needs its driver’s license revoked, because it is clearly huffing paint.

Nature is horrible at almost everything. That’s why on those rare occasions when it does manage to create something of immense beauty – like the Grand Canyon or Beyoncé – we can only sit and marvel with our mouths hanging open.

My original intent in writing to you was to request a small number of replacement Raisinets to make up for those unholy shriveled morsels that had infiltrated the bag we purchased. But I realized that there is absolutely no guarantee that those won’t be subject to the same curse, and also, then we’d have more Raisinets. No one wants that.

So I’m just going to ask you to please, please, improve your quality control standards (such as they are) to make sure this doesn’t happen again to some poor schmuck with similarly terrible taste in candy. My husband eats your product voluntarily. He’s suffered enough.

Warm Regards,


Leave a Comment

  • Anthropologal

    I second this post. Raisins are an abomination. I’ve always said if you’re going to make anything out of old grapes, it better be wine.

  • And then are the “chocolate chip” cookies you buy in good faith, only to discover… RAISINS! What’s with THAT????? Ugh. Evil.

    • YESSSS the worst. What a terrible practical joke, cruel cookie maker.

    • Everywhereist

      Oh, god. I have known this disappointment.

    • MCAussies

      Raisin cookies are my favorite. Cinnamon gooey goodness

    • Jenna Moore

      Raisins masquerading as chocolate chips are the reason that I have trust issues.

  • Jeanie Annette Murphy-Mayo

    Hahaha….you are too hilarious. Love the naked mole rat reference!

    • Everywhereist

      They really do look like giant pink raisins.

  • First you troll me with eyebombing, now you’re criticizing my perfectly legitimate tastes in candy. This indignation shall not stand!

    Well… actually, it probably will, since I can’t write nearly well enough to defend myself for even a second against your genius-level wit. I’ll just try to make you watch suspenseful shows on TV as revenge.

    • Everywhereist

      I have access to all of your underwear. Don’t cross me, Rand.

  • Hayley

    I just found your blog (and my new guilty pleasure). Thank you for bringing humor to my otherwise fairly full evening. 🙂

  • I’m one of the 12 in the United States that love Raisinets and I thought this blog post was hilarious. Yes, I have had the experience of the naked Raisinets. It kind of pisses me off especially when you throw down the money for the large bag with the resealable top.

    • MCAussies

      My husband detests Raisins as much as the author. When we go backpacking, I literally have to buy trail mix ingredients to find a mix without raisins for him. Mixed nuts and M and Ms separate so he is not offended in the least by shriveled shoe elf testicles

  • Fred B

    OK enough I have rollicked with you down the many paths of you wit. But to this I say “Enough!” Raisins are wonderful (except when you get that little piece of dried up stem…). There is no joy bigger than digging into your brown lunch bag and finding a red box of natures goodness. Those of us who discovered the wonderfulness of raisins did so at an age where we wouldn’t know the significance of a wrinkled testicle for decades.
    As one who did grow up with Saturday morning cartoons and enough sugar in your cereal to create the sludge that gave you the energy to play outside until lunch I say “Soldier On Rand! Wave you dehydrated grape flag high!”
    However that whole no chocolate thing on the Raisinets blows.

    I blame it on the North Koreans…

  • Oh this was amazing. Thank you

    • Everywhereist

      Any time you need me to rant about Raisinets, I’m here.

  • OK, I may have been overheard laughing at my desk….”tiny mummified testicle”….oh what a mental picture!

    I have to confess to being in the group of 12. I even buy the large jar at Costco! Oh the horror! But I will tell you one place I find raisins unbearable…in Brownies. My significant other puts them into the batter. Ugh. It may be chocolate and raisins, but the end result is not the same. He even brought some to a party one time. He won’t do that again 😉

    • Everywhereist

      Why would ANYONE do that to poor, innocent brownies? YOU ARE MARRIED TO A MONSTER.

  • Cyril Gaillard

    Can I pay you to write a blog post ? If you can turn raisinets into something fun, I would love to work with you (this is a serious request)

    • Everywhereist

      Aww, thanks, Cyril! Honestly, I’m pretty swamped with writing work. The things I am open to right now are: book deals, TV gigs, and people driving up to my house with truckloads of money.

    • seriously Cyril, how bigs da check book? The fair lady is already up among the successful, talented and gifted and I think you might be already in a conga line 😉 but have a seriously nice day

  • Laura Perez

    This is hilarious! I live in Europe and we don’t have Raisinets, but I feel your pain! You should start a trend.. or a twitter hashtag! Btw, beautiful writting!

    • Everywhereist

      In related news, I’m moving to Europe.

  • wanderingdeity

    I eat raisins by the handful. Does this mean am a horrible person?

  • Jane Klein

    I laughed so hard that tears are streaming down my face. One of my favorite posts. I still shudder at the time that I paid perfectly good money for what I thought was a perfectly delicious cinnamon roll, only to discover raisins. Is nothing sacred?!

  • MCAussies

    I am proudly one of the twelve people who enjoy both raisins and chocolate covered raisins as well. Strangely enough I detest grapes of any kind. Conversely I love plums but detest prunes. Go figure

  • bansley

    My side are hurting. Not from eating Raisnets, mind you, but rather laughing very hard at this post.

  • Mandy Ward

    My SO also loves chocolate covered raisins… (we don’t get “Raisinets” in the UK) … and I have known him to exclaim with some disgust when he finds a few non coated ones…

    Personally, I grew up with them in my cereal (Mother felt it was a replacement to having sugar on it) and now I only eat raisins when soaked in rum and stuffed into the centre of a Rum Baba with whipped cream or in the middle of a Baked Apple covered with thick yellow custard (don’t judge me, I’m British) so while I don’t necessarily agree with you about them being the food of the devil, I do agree that they should at least be covered in a decent coating of chocolate.

  • braqueish

    Raisins are just pantomime compared to the real horror …. currants. 🙂

  • haha! You are cracking me up. And yes, raisins are some sort of joke on the human palette. So Rand, I am on her side.

  • Kristen Sarra



    Dark-chocolate Raisinet Aficionado

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