While cold-hearted Halloween detractors might blame candy corn and bite-size chocolate bars for bulging kids' waistlines and tooth decay, holiday celebrants once held Halloween foods responsible for determining whom they'd marry and whether their spouses would be true.

The notion of eating Halloween foods apparently never occurred to many 19-century Americans, who instead used nuts and apples to engage the occult. The nation's first Halloweeners burnt walnuts, scattered apple peels and chomped on apples hung from strings, all in hopes of figuring out what their future held.

Halloween got its start as Samhain, a pagan autumn holiday in the British Isles marked by "mumming," or the practice of wandering from house to house and trading performances for food. Feasting -- especially on freshly harvested apples and nuts -- remained a central activity as the festival evolved into Halloween: Apple potato cake, perhaps reflecting back to the day's near-coincidence with a Roman celebration honoring the orchard goddess Pomona, was among the most popular foods. Celebrants also carved turnips and tromped into cabbage fields, believing the shape of a root plucked on Halloween would presage the shape of one's spouse.

More on strange and outdated Halloween traditions of the past, after the jump.

But most British Isle dwellers had largely given up on the holiday and its charms by the 1800s. Halloween, variously known as "Snap Apple Night" and "Nut Crack Night," became an American preoccupation, thanks largely to immigrants anxious to preserve the most distinctive practices of their native cultures. The other-worldly dimensions of the ancient celebration meshed nicely with the Victorian affection for spiritualism, a school of thought that stressed prophecy, fortune-telling and discussions with the dead.

"The fashion of trying charms is now nearly outgrown among English people," a New York Times reporter wrote in 1879. "It survives in America as a pleasant frolic for a social gathering. In our own day, young people 'sow hemp seed,' 'eat apples before the glass,' 'pop chestnuts' and 'launch walnut shells.' "

The reporter didn't elaborate on what celebrants intended to accomplish by sowing hemp seeds -- nor why he found it necessary to put the practice in quotes -- but the historical record is lousy with references to the other activities. Popping chestnuts, which the same paper later described as "one of the oldest customs still in vogue," involved naming a nut after one's sweetheart. The christened nut would be tossed into the fireplace and monitored for any signs of cracking or jumping. If the nut burned steadily, the nut namer could be assured his or her lover was faithful.

Eating an apple in front of a mirror, in addition to being a reliable way to make sure apple peelings weren't stuck in one's teeth, was considered the best method for catching a glimpse of one's future husband. If a woman ate an apple while watching her reflection on Halloween, an apparition of her betrothed-to-be was nearly guaranteed to hover in the background. Some proponents of the "apple before the glass" hex insisted the woman needed to be simultaneously combing her hair. At midnight.

If the anticipated fellow still failed to appear, the wondering woman might resort to pulling another apple from the barrel, peeling it over the bare ground. Halloween devotees believed the peels could be read even more easily than tea leaves, spelling out a future spouse's name.

But the most popular apple game by far revolved around a water-filled bucket. Bobbing for apples was such a beloved pastime that millionaire John D. Rockefeller in 1914 tried to prove his connection with the common man by "ducking for apples" with children at a Halloween party hosted by his pastor. Rockefeller so enjoyed the revelry that he "stayed until 11 o'clock, which he said was much later than he was used to being out."

Before fear of germs forced schools and community centers to stop allowing children to dunk their faces in buckets swimming with competitors' spit, apple bobbing was a fixture of almost every Halloween celebration. Safety apparently wasn't a concern for Victorians, who played another apple game with equal gusto: As described by the Times' Halloween correspondent in 1879, participants tried to "snatch in their teeth an apple at one end of a stick that had a lighted candle at the other end, and, being hung by a string, could be spun around very fast, so that the players often seized the candle instead of the fruit."

Eating fire was considered a Halloween treat, but food also surfaced regularly in Halloween tricks. In 1887, mischievous members of Lafayette College's sophomore class smeared the chapel's pews with molasses on Halloween night. And in 1894, a gang of marauders armed with flour sacks terrorized Washington D.C. More than 200 young men ran through the city's streets on Halloween, showering bystanders with flour.

Millions of Americans this year will celebrate Halloween by stuffing themselves with sugary treats. But they might better honor the holiday's edible traditions by not eating at all. Just think: What secrets might a Snickers bar spun in the moonlight reveal?