Candy

Decorating the house is a cinch. You can carve a scary face on a jack-o'-lantern with your eyes closed. The kids' costumes were finished by Labor Day.Think you have this Halloween thing down pat? Think again.You may have a precious pumpkin, the coolest-looking offspring and the most frightening front porch in town, but that's not what the critics (i.e. the neighborhood children) are going to be discussing in the post-Halloween debriefings.Face it, Halloween is about kids and candy. And the big question is: Does the stuff you're handing out measure up?

WHAT I'M about to share with you is the single most important advice an adult will ever get regarding Halloween. It can make the difference between having a happy Halloween or one that leaves you broken and weeping, peering out from behind the drapes in the darkness while silently praying as the tiny, costumed armies of the night approach: Please ... don't ring my doorbell. It's the kind of advice I wish I'd gotten years ago, when I was a young parent running up Halloween candy bills that rivaled a car payment.

POP'S, AN old-fashioned general store and candy shop and a longtime Savage fixture, has reopened. For those not privy, Pop's is the destination of choice for generations of schoolchildren picking up goodies on the way to school and for afternoon treats.Last month, owner Jake Croston decided to close for redecorating and reassessment of his stock. With the new Weis Market opening on U.S. 1, perhaps there was less need for him to carry general groceries.Fortunately for those with a sweet tooth, Croston couldn't take a long hiatus -- he reopened two weeks ago, selling candy, coffee, papers and snacks.

When Mandy Moore steps out of her black Prius and bounds into a tiny speck of a neighborhood restaurant, not a hipster on the block flinches. Sure, her toffee bangs are partially covering her eyes - but you would expect someone might make a correlation between the girl on the street and the photo of her plastered on a giant billboard just a few yards away. But clad in her flowy indigo Mayle dress and little yellow sweater, the truth is that Moore, now 23, scarcely resembles her former self.

A candy man in Westport was selling the usual things from the converted truck and bus -- milk, bread and candy -- when police became interested in his expanded inventory.The additional items amounted to a sizable business in crack cocaine, police say.After a half-year investigation, Baltimore police and federal agents said they made nine arrests and seized a bus turned into a convenience store and a candy truck during a series of raids that broke up a drug ring distributing a pound of cocaine a day in Westport.

Sweet expectations are mixing with a bitter reality for longtime fans of Rheb's Candy in Lexington Market: After 70 years, the family-owned sweet shop is shutting down its stall Saturday. "They're closing? Why? I'm shocked, I'm shocked," said a frowning Barbara Dean as she prepared to spend $85 on butter creams, almond paste and boxes of dark chocolate as Christmas gifts. "I'm sad," she said. "It's just a tradition to come to Lexington Market. It's the end of an era." Rheb's President Wynn Harger said he had decided to close the stall and focus on his flagship Wilkens Avenue shop and growing Internet sales primarily because of his company's issues with the management of the market.

For years, grocery store owners Cristobalina and Juan Ramos made certain their shelves were stocked with sticky tamarind candies and lollipops smothered in spicy chili powder. Their kids used to devour them growing up in Puebla, Mexico. And here in Baltimore, the Mexican-made treats have become a favorite among Latino children as well as non-Hispanic adults who, Cristobalina Ramos said, buy the chili-spiked mango lollipops "by the bagful." But they won't anymore. Tests have found that the popular candies contain dangerous levels of lead, according to city health officials, potentially exacerbating a poisoning problem that has troubled Baltimore for decades through paint, dust and even school water fountains.

In an effort to combat potentially tainted sweets produced in Mexico and sold widely in American groceries, the U.S. Food and Drug Administration announced a proposal yesterday to reduce the threshold for lead in candy. But Baltimore health officials - who had planned to push for state legislation to attack the problem after lead-tainted candy was found in the city this fall - said they were concerned the federal rules wouldn't have enough impact. The federal guideline recommends lowering the limit for lead in candy from 0.5 parts per million to 0.1, a standard pushed by advocates in Baltimore and other places the spicy sweets are sold.

It's Halloween, and as usual, those workaholic neighbors on the corner have left a basket of bite-size Snickers on the front porch with a sign: "Take 3." What's a hobo or grim reaper to do? Grab them all, naturally. (A slightly less greedy ghoul might follow another Baltimore kid's rule of thumb: Multiply the number allowed by 10.) Whatever the formula, it's all part of a universal strategy: "To get as much candy as possible," says Isabelle Briggs, 10, of Baltimore. So, if "they let you take more than one, [I]

After 15 years in the candy business, the Rosenberg brothers are finally getting sweet on their home turf. The three Baltimore natives, who have operated candy store franchises in malls and airports across the country, have done very little business in Maryland. But with a new coffee-and-chocolate franchise called Coco Moka Cafe rapidly expanding this year, the owners of Columbia-based Candy Express Franchising Inc. finally intend to bring their business home, Chief Executive Officer David Rosenberg said.