ILGM – Editor’s Choice (2026)
ILGM is the US‑focused seed bank with a germination guarantee and fast shipping. Trusted by thousands of growers nationwide.
- ✅ Auto-flowering & feminized seeds
- ✅ High germination rate
- ✅ Fast US shipping
- ✅ Excellent customer support
Herbies Seeds
Herbies Seeds offers a huge selection with worldwide shipping. A solid choice for international growers.
- ✅ Wide variety of strains
- ✅ Reliable shipping
- ✅ Good customer service
- ✅ Payment options available
Crop King Seeds
Crop King Seeds offers a variety of Canadian strains. Slightly lower ratings but still a good option for many growers.
- ✅ Canadian strains
- ✅ Reliable shipping
- ✅ Decent customer support
- ✅ Payment options
Martian Candy seeds. Just saying the name feels weirdly decadent, like you’re about to light up something grown in zero gravity. These little bastards don’t mess around—thick, sticky genetics that hit like a velvet hammer. You crack open the pack and there’s this earthy-sweet funk that punches your nose sideways. Not skunky, not citrusy—something else. Like sugar rotting in red clay. I don’t know. It’s hard to describe. But it sticks with you.
Grown right, Martian Candy plants get bushy as hell. Not tall and lanky like some sativas that look like they’re trying to escape the atmosphere. Nah, these girls squat low, spread wide, and throw out fat, resin-dripping colas that look like they’ve been dipped in powdered sugar and regret. The leaves curl in a bit, dark forest green with these weird purplish veins if the temps drop at night. Gorgeous. Like alien lettuce.
Smoking it? Oh man. It’s a creeper. You take a hit, maybe two, and you’re like, “Okay, this is chill, I can still function.” Ten minutes later you’re staring at your own hands wondering how long they’ve been there. It’s heavy. Not couch-lock heavy—more like brain-melt, time-loop, forget-what-you-were-saying mid-sentence heavy. I wouldn’t recommend it for a first date unless you’re both cool with forgetting each other’s names.
Flavor-wise, it’s sweet on the inhale, almost candy-like (hence the name, duh), but there’s this weird metallic aftertaste that I kind of love. Like licking a battery wrapped in caramel. Sounds gross, tastes amazing. Some people say it reminds them of grape cough syrup. Those people are wrong, but I get where they’re coming from.
Now, growing from seed—Martian Candy isn’t the easiest. She’s picky. Needs a steady hand, some patience, and a good eye for mold. Dense buds mean poor airflow if you’re lazy with trimming. But if you dial it in? You’ll be rewarded. Big time. Yields are solid, not insane, but the quality? Top shelf. Like, hide-it-from-your-friends top shelf.
I’ve seen growers baby these plants like they’re raising bonsai trees. Others just toss ’em in a tent and hope for the best. Both can work, weirdly. This strain’s got attitude, but it’s not fragile. More like a moody genius—you gotta earn its respect, then it’ll show you something wild.
Honestly, Martian Candy isn’t for everyone. Some folks want that clean, clear-headed buzz. This ain’t that. This is for the weirdos, the artists, the insomniacs who want to melt into their mattress and dream about purple deserts and neon rain. It’s not a social smoke. It’s a “turn off your phone and disappear for a while” kind of thing.
Would I grow it again? Hell yes. Would I recommend it to a beginner? Maybe. If they’re stubborn and a little reckless. There’s something magical about this strain, something slightly off-kilter. Like it came from somewhere else. Somewhere far. . . and high.