The artfully designed packaging is mostly transparent, allowing you to get a good glimpse of this candy before committing to it. Of course, I'd imagine that's to the manufacturer's detriment, as the Dracula Piller look about as appetizing as a rock.
Upon opening the package, I quickly discovered that Dracula Piller doesn't smell as bad as it looks. It smells worse. The best I could describe it: a mixture of burnt styrofoam, rotted wood, and smelling salts.
As for the taste... putting one of the candies on my tounge was just like licking a 9-volt battery, except more intense. This was the second salmiakki that proved that salt (or whatever unholy substance they have on these ones) can indeed be painful.
You'll notice the white candy to the right, which is the result of running it under water and scrubbing-off the coating. That, of course, I was able to eat... but I'm pretty sure that doesn't count. With the coating, these are clearly inedible and quite caustic.
Update! I just returned from the Cleveland Oktoberfest, where I offered up the Salmiac Challenge to some friends. Whoever could go the longest without spitting out the Dracula Piller would get the two-dollar bill that I laid out on the table (washed out in the picture).
About eight took up the challenge, and within seconds someone nearly vomited. "I know you said these were bad," he told me, "but I didn't think anything could be that bad!" And one after another, others dropped out and chugged their beers in hopes of killing the offensive taste.
But somehow, three people made it through the challenge: none of them Finns, but all of them women. And frankly, one thing that was particularly disturbing was that one of them was my wife! Had I known I'd married into a gene pool with such defective taste buds, perhaps I would have reconsidered. Let's just hope that broken 'buds are a recessive trait.
No matter, with the three-way tie, I forked over two more twos to the "winners". They certainly earned it.