While the “2026 is the new 2016” online trend dies down, Reese’s continues to time travel through the candy aisle. 2026 could be the new 2006, and we have the Reese’s Marshmallow Big Cup to prove it.
Yes, Reese’s released a limited-edition marshmallow variety two decades ago. I’m surprised that it has taken so long to return to peanut butter and marshmallow, a combination that inspired such greatness as Fluffernutter sandwiches and the best s’more you’ve ever tasted. Since 2006 was likely the last time I ate a Fluffernutter sandwich, I was eager to dive into this Big Cup.
The Reese’s Marshmallow Big Cup’s milk chocolate shell contains a thick, dense layer of peanut butter filling along with a thinner layer of marshmallow-flavored filling. The fillings are separated by a thin layer of chocolate, similar in structure to other recent varieties, including the Lava Cup and Caramel Cup.
The Big Cup’s marshmallow crème filling isn’t the fluffy stuff you find in a jar, or the gooey stuff left behind on a roasting stick. Rather, this component is thick, smooth, and a little sticky, almost like a viscous powdered sugar glaze. The flavor definitely reads as marshmallow: a creamy, sugary flavor, but with a pronounced vanilla taste that teeters on too artificial.
The crème’s artificial quality is noticeable by itself, but it dissipates when combined with the delicious-as-always peanut butter. The marshmallow flavor holds up to the peanut butter’s potency, which surprised me. Marshmallow is a subtle flavor to begin with, and I’ve found that these Big Cups with dual fillings don’t have quite enough of the secondary filling to be impactful. Even though this Big Cup’s peanut butter layer is over twice as thick as the marshmallow layer, there is Fluffernuttery goodness to be enjoyed.
The marshmallow filling is like Timbaland in some of 2006’s biggest hit songs: not the star, but a vital featured player. Marshmallow fans may want more marshmallow crème, or even a mallow top to bolster the thin layer. I would have enjoyed an extra dose of marshmallow in theory, but maybe not in reality given the artificial tinge of the filling.
If the Reese’s Marshmallow Big Cup is our portal to 2006 nostalgia, I am ready to wear boho fashion, listen to The Fray, and take way too long to text on a pink Razr phone. Unlike most of these things, peanut butter and marshmallow will always be timeless.
Purchased Price: $2.78
Purchased at: Walmart
Size: 2.8 oz (79 g) King Size package
Rating: 8 out of 10
Nutrition Facts: (per cup) 190 calories, 10 grams of fat, 4.5 grams of saturated fat, 0 grams of trans fat, less than 5 milligrams of cholesterol, 100 milligrams of sodium, 25 grams of carbohydrates, 1 gram of fiber, 23 grams of sugar, and 3 grams of protein
I FINALLY feel seen and heard with one sentence from your review. S’mores.
I grew up in the 1960s. By the very early 1970s I was a Girl Scout for the first time and had my first camp out where we learned “survival skills” which included a campfire and cooking in foil. For dessert we made s’mores. Graham crackers spread with JIF peanut butter, chocolate and a BURNT marshmallow.
It was the first time I’ve ever heard of or tasted a s’more, but over the years I never saw or had another one with peanut butter, except in the Girl Scouts in 1971.
Over these many many long decades, any time I see a s’more product without peanut butter — which is universal and constant — I think WHY are you serving this basically RAW? Where is the peanut butter?! No one in my circle knows that I’m talking about and say “This is the recipe. It doesn’t have peanut butter and it never did.”
Gaslighting me. Everyone. What kind of bizarre mass conspiracy did I fall into?
It needs peanut butter!!!!! Everytime.
Sidenote, I also still prefer the marshmallow to be blackened and burnt.
I might have to go and buy this candy. Just because your review is the vindication I need that I’m not the only person out here in a post-apocalyptic no-peanut-butter on the s’mores world.