
I’m not going to lie to you. Just as with my last review, I’m a little biased. Next to Pocky, Puccho is by far my favorite Japanese candy. It’s gotten to the point where I have to physically force myself to buy other candy.
What makes Puccho so perenially delightful? To start with, UHA (which stands astonishingly for Unique Human Adventure) releases new flavors at a rate only rivaled by Nestlé’s Kit Kat brand. I’ve been buying flavors rather regularly, trying not to repeat myself, and I’ve come no nearer to trying them all than when I started. Sadly, this summer’s flavors (including the fantastic 塩レーモン [Salty Lemon]) are moving off the shelf, leaving me to review two of my favorite flavors, コーラ [Cola] and ソーダ [Soda].

Puccho packaging is, in a word, adorable. Ten foil-wrapped Pucchos gather in a brightly colored pack. I’m a sucker for mascots, and Puccho’s emoticon-esque gummies, a different one for each flavor, are some of my favorites. When plastic phone danglers started to come with the candy a few months ago, I was sure to pick it up.
Similar to Hi-Chew or a softer Starburst, Puccho is at its heart a chewy candy, although never with the boring fruity flavors of those American lines. The genius, or at the very least odd, twist of Puccho is the inclusion of tiny flavored gummy balls, small enough to swallow without notice, or, if one is so inclined, to bite into several smaller pieces. They’re fun, and, even after you’re on your fiftieth pack, unexpected.

Cola and Soda are both part of Puccho’s しゅわ [fizzy] line, as easily noticed by the maru in the ‘pu’ being replaced by a glass of 1950s American soda. The fizziness is readily apparent. As soon as you start chewing, little fizzy pellets make their presence known on your tongue, like chalky Pop Rocks, or an Alka-Seltzer. The effect doesn’t last long, but it does add to the illusion that you’re drinking soda pop.

The candies themselves taste surprisingly, to an American brought up on ‘banana’-flavored candy, like the things they represent. Soda feels like sweetened, slightly limon-y seltzer water from the fountain. Cola is a fair approximation of a flattened Coca Cola (not my preference—as a member of the Pepsi Generation—but this is Japan we’re talking about).
To my mouth, both are a little too bland to eat by themselves. I’d reccomend pairing one or the other with a fruit candy, or even chocolate. These are not my favorite Puccho flavors, but huge points have to be added for the fizzy pellets. Between those, the gummies, and the enjoyable candy itself, both flavors get a half-grudging thumbs-up. Perhaps the next flavors I review will leave me more inspired.
3/5
Read Candy Addict’s review of Cola Puccho.
Read Candy Blog’s review of Cola Puccho.
Buy Puccho from J-list.