My stepfather's father had about half a case of that stuff. As I recall, it was nastier than it sounds (that it was probably 20+ years old at the time might also have been a factor). It tasted like . . . nothing, any mintiness or other flavor was gone. It stuck to your teeth, leaving black streaks, and it turned your saliva black. Being a typical boy, I loved it. I'd occasionally give a piece to a friend, just to drive them crazy. The best times came when we were pitching pennies. One of the older kids would spit, demonstrating his prowess at something we all aspired to for some reason, and showing off that he was dipping snuff. I'd casually spit in the same direction, one-upping him by leaving marks that looked like black paint. The status games of second grade. . . so much more satisfying than "who has the newest Beamer".