Chocolate Chat

Chocolate, Beer & Adventure Gear!

2012-03-12T14:06:00.015-07:00

EDITOR'S NOTE: In this entry, I will recap the events of March 1, 2012. The first Chocolate, Beer and Adventure Gear Night in Richmond, to benefit the American Cancer Society.

My great-grandfather Arthur Anderson moved his business, Anderson's Candy Shop, out to the tiny Village of Richmond back in 1926. He picked the hamlet based on a hot-tip from one of his wife's friends.

Richmond, she said, was going to be the next boom town!

Well, let's just say that we are still waiting on the boom.

The population was measured to be 1,091 at the 2000 U.S. Census.

So, when you are situated in a beautiful little town like we are, but you want to attract more customers than might naturally stroll past your door, you learn to creatively think.

For us this has meant a Facebook page, website and touring with local county fairs. But this winter, the folks over at Antioch Fine Wine & Liquors in the next town over and our neighbors at 2K Adventure Gear came to us with a new idea.

They proposed we combine marketing and products for a good cause and invite everyone who shopped at our stores.

They wanted to host a free tasting event/fundraiser.

We immediately settled on the American Cancer Society as benefactor.

Each of our respective families had been touched by cancer in some way and on a personal note, my mother died of multiple organ failure due to cancer back in March of 2009.

With that settled, we planned our free chocolate and beer tasting event.

2K Adventure Gear would host so that guests could wander around the store while they sampled, peering into tents and trying out kayak paddles as they mulled about.
Larry over at Antioch Fine Wine would bring the craft beers and we would supply the chocolates.

The whole thing was free but we asked for a donation at the door the night of the event and also sold raffle tickets for a chance to win even more chocolate, beer and adventure gear giveaways. :)

And, at the end of our first Chocolate, Beer & Adventure Gear Night, we had raised $350 which was sent to the American Cancer Society.

Also, we had raised awareness of our businesses. What more could you ask for?!

In closing, if you were one of the folks who ventured out Thursday, March 1 to our first Chocolate, Beer and Adventure Gear night, we sincerely thank you.

We hope you had a great time, and want you to know that you made a difference in helping us to raise that $350!

Groundhog Day

2012-02-03T20:45:00.000-08:00

EDITOR'S NOTE: This week, fans of Bill Murray and Harold Ramis' 1993 romantic comedy 'Groundhog Day' celebrated 20 years since the movie was filmed. The anniversary was extra special for us because our candy store was featured in the film! The following was published Feb. 3, 2012 in the The Northwest Herald of Crystal Lake, Ill. I'd describe the column (written by myself) as one part reminiscing and one part discovery. Read it and you'll understand :)

RICHMOND – I always get excited when someone brings up Harold Ramis’ 90s classic, “Groundhog Day.”

I love the movie.

It is one of the very first films I ever saw in a theater. Also, Bill Murray’s sardonic portrayal of TV weatherman Phil Conners stuck repeating the same day over and over again is perpetually funny to me.

What really gets me excited, though, is the fact that my family’s business appears in the film.

For about 26 seconds, immediately following the scene in which Conners delivers a ridiculous toast to “World Peace,” and during the scene in which Rita (Andie MacDowell) and Conners talk about white chocolate and the feeling of dejá vú, my family’s business – Anderson’s Candy Shop – is the set. Well, sort of.

You see, Anderson’s Candy Shop is located in Richmond – about 15 miles from Woodstock where, in 1992, crews with Columbia Pictures turned the downtown into a replica of Gobbler’s Knob, Penn., to shoot the film.

The legendary 26 seconds wasn’t actually filmed in our candy shop. The script for “Groundhog Day” called for a good old-fashioned candy shop as the setting for one of the film’s scenes. Since downtown Woodstock did not have a candy store that fit the bill, we were invited to set up a fake shop and be featured in the movie.

I was about 7 years old at the time and completely oblivious to the “big-timers,” as my dad, Leif Anderson, called the people who first asked us to provide props.

All I knew was that my dad took us up to the Woodstock Square one day to show us some fake snow and, more importantly, that my family’s business, my family and in a twice-removed-sort-of-way I myself, were going to be in a film.

I was excited then and I still am now.

Curious to me until recently, however, was the fact that neither my father nor my uncle have ever seemed as excited. Until a few nights ago, when I interviewed them for background on this column, I never understood why.

My uncle, Lars Anderson, called being involved in “Groundhog Day” an “interesting process.”

My dad explained what the family and the business actually had to do.

“We had to decorate an entire store and produce enough candy to set it up as if it were a real operating candy shop,” he said.

“We put up historic photos from our then-74 years in business and had to keep it set up like that for a month while they were shooting various shots,” he continued.

I also learned that our business trained extras to act like real candy shop employees. When filming was over, we did all of the cleanup and had to put the unrented space back into the shape we found it in.

After I further quizzed the patriarchs on their brush with Hollywood, I came to realize why the 26 seconds had been so huge for me and why it was lackluster for them.

I had no expectations for the film, or our part in it.

When I first saw “Groundhog Day” in the theater, I was thrilled to recognize the candy that I loved and to see sepia-toned photos of my grandfather and great-grandfather on the wall of a real scene in a real movie – no matter how brief the scene.

It was such a big deal to me. In fact, I remember sitting in the Genoa Theatre (formerly in Genoa City, Wis.) and watching the movie twice just to get a second glimpse.

For Dad and Lars, though, the 26 seconds was a letdown.

“I have to admit, we were horribly crestfallen to see how little exposure there actually was for us,” Lars said.

“For the amount of work we put in and the expense the filmmakers went to ... we were imagining we would be featured more. But really it was not any different than being silverware on a table in a restaurant in a movie,” he said.

Even though our shop provided props and our name, “Anderson’s Candy Shop,” was actually visible in the film, when the movie first came out, most people looked up Anderson’s candy store in western Pennsylvania, rather than us.

Looking back on the film with fresh eyes, I understand now my dad and uncle’s muted-enthusiasm to our involvement in the movie. And I wonder if other local businesses deal with the same mixed emotions.

However, even after finding all this out, for me, that 26 seconds (and the film in general) is still something to get excited about.

Have a memory you'd like to share? Email Katie at AndersonsCandyShop@gmail.com or leave a comment below.

Foiling a credit card scam, chocolate, and Vietnam

2012-01-10T07:00:00.000-08:00

EDITOR'S NOTE: Typically, my father Leif is in the newspaper for one of two reasons - our chocolate has been awarded; or, as a local businessman and active citizen, he's sounding off at a town meeting about traffic patterns, development, etc. This is a bit different ... Dad recently alerted the Federal Bureau of Investigations to a credit card scam! The following was published last week in the The Northwest Herald of Crystal Lake, Ill.

Chocolate for Vietnam? Richmond candy shop targeted in scam

By SARAH SUTSCHEK - ssutschek@shawmedia.com

RICHMOND - The first order for chocolates to be sent to Vietnam was odd. But by the fifth or sixth, Leif Anderson knew something was up.

“Vietnam is a problem any time of year because of temperatures,” said Anderson, who owns Anderson’s Candy Shop in Richmond.

Even if the chocolate is headed to a cooler area, there’s no guarantee that it won’t go through a more tropical area depending on the route.

Fifteen orders to be shipped to Vietnamese cities came in around Christmas under 15 different names from locations across the United States. Canada, as well. The total was between $1,300 and $1,400.

It was a credit card scam, and with some detective work on his own, Anderson was able to track down 13 of the 15 credit-card holders. Only two of them knew their information had been stolen.

Anderson said he had the credit-card holders’ names and ZIP codes. They were of different demographics: young, old, male, female, American, Canadian.

One of the scam’s targets was a high school junior whose mother answered the phone and insisted that her kid didn’t have a credit card.

The mom found out otherwise, Anderson said.

“Two of them were upset that I could get their information and thought I was the one trying to steal their credit card,” Anderson said. “I said, ‘No, I already have your credit card.’ Later, they all called back and were thankful.”

Anderson didn’t fill the orders, and the charges ended up being reversed, he said.

“If they notify their credit-card company, they’re not liable, which is the reason I was trying to get through to them,” he said.

The scam was sophisticated enough that fake phone numbers were used, as well as fake email addresses that would reply when confirmation was sent.

FBI spokesman Ross Rice declined to comment on any specific case, but said that without a financial loss, there is no federal prosecution.

“We have so many cases like this,” Rice said. “There has to be a substantial economic loss to one or more individuals.”

The FBI also doesn’t have jurisdiction to conduct an investigation outside the United States, Rice said.

“If a fraudulently purchased item goes somewhere outside the U.S., we have to rely on the local law enforcement in the affected country,” he said.

But a scam involving chocolate was a new one to him.

“They could have been testing to see if the credit cards would go through, but that’s really the only thing I can think of,” he said.

The idea had occurred to Anderson, who was wondering where the profit is in such a scam.

“It’s very puzzling,” he said. “We’re all very suspicious here now. If something doesn’t smell right, you always check first.”

A bittersweet Christmas story

2011-12-20T10:08:00.000-08:00

EDITOR'S NOTE: From time to time we hand deliver chocolate for our customers. Dad recently rushed from his busy schedule at the cooking room over to a local Cub Scout meeting to deliver a very special box of candy as a Christmas surprise. My sister Susanne gives a brief recap below. Merry Christmas.

About a week ago Joe Kalisek, a Ranger in the U.S. Army, contacted us at Anderson's via email.

He is stationed in Afghanistan and asked if we would deliver a box of chocolates to his wife at a local Cub Scout pack meeting since he could not do it himself.

Although Joe previously thought that he would be able to come home for Christmas, he recently learned that he will not be coming home until spring.

To help his wife Ivy cope, he wanted us to surprise her with a personally delivered present and message from him.

Leif, my dad, just so happens to have three sons in the same Cub Scout pack as Ranger Joe so, of course, he said yes! (And definitely would have even if his sons had not been at the same meeting.)

It was a very emotional experience for all of us -- Dad gets teary eyed while presenting the candy to Ivy.

And, with Joe's permission, we video taped the moment to share.

Here's a video clip of dad presenting Ivy, with her gift.

Ivy, we are so sorry that you have to be away from your husband this Christmas.

We hope those chocolates remind you how much you are loved.

And Ranger Joe, we thank you for your service and wish you a safe and speedy return home!

Merry Christmas!

Understanding the real magic

2011-12-06T13:40:00.000-08:00

EDITORS NOTE: Today's entry is from my sister Susanne Anderson (pictured at right). She writes about transitioning into a fulltime role at Anderson's Candy Shop and how the move has given her a new perspective on the magic that happens inside 10301 Main Street. I think that the second half of this entry really describes what it feels like when you grow up into a family business.

I’m going to be honest with everyone right now, and it might hurt a little: growing up in a chocolate factory is nothing like what you saw in that Willy Wonka movie.

Ok, ok, it sort of is, but not in the way you might think. There are no chocolate rivers, no psychedelic boat rides and no little people that produce the chocolate – though sometimes, it’s true, we do break out in song.

No, these things don’t exist, but growing up here, it did feel like magic.

Just walking through the cooking room (aptly named, for this is where all of the caramel, cream and other candy centers are cooked) was enchanting.

There was always a cook, whether it was my father, my uncle or one of the various assistant cooks, stirring a huge, boiling batch of sugar turned into something even more delicious.

I didn’t know as a child exactly what everything was, but I loved watching the process. Dad pour boiling sugar out onto a cool marble and somehow – somehow – this turned into the caramels and fudges and peanut butter creams I loved so much.

Then there was the molding room (aptly named, for this is where all of the molded chocolates are made). I often saw my grandmother here, tapping the bubbles out of the chocolate after it had been poured into the bunny rabbit or Christmas tree shaped molds, and then trimming the excess chocolate off of the edges once the chocolate had hardened.

If I brought my friends to this room for a tour they always marveled at the large cylindrical melters holding hundreds of pounds of chocolate.

The packing room (where all of the chocolate pieces get packed into boxes) is probably the closest thing to Willy Wonka that we have. It is an entire room filled with chocolates just waiting to be consumed.

As a child, I didn’t understand the complicated business my elders were part of, but I did know this place was spectacular -- not only because what we made was delicious and unique, but because being here meant family.

The candy store often culminated everything a child could want: loving people making delicious, beautiful treats that you often got to eat.

I am not a child any longer. And over the past year, I have begun to work at the store much more to learn about this place in a new way.

I can now transform those boiling kettles of sugar and make melty chocolate into molded rabbits and snowflakes and more.

And although this means that there isn’t magic here for me anymore, my eyes have been opened to something else. I now see all of the hard work that every employee puts in, and I see the lasting effects of a lifetime of hard work from those before us.

Throughout my entire life, my father has been incredibly passionate about this business and these chocolates and until now, I have not understood how a person can stay so passionate for so long about the same thing.

But, when you are a part of every piece of the process from purchasing supplies to cooking, to packaging and selling – how can a person not become emotionally involved?

And I finally, do understand just how superior our products are. Every caramel batch, for instance, is tested by hand. By hand! That means we don’t just cook our caramels to a certain degree and say, “Eh, they’re good enough.” We test every single batch of candy before it is even completed to make sure our product is the absolute best it can possibly be.

Now I’ve caught myself going into seller mode – but that’s the thing I’ve realized. When my father speaks about the candy shop with such fervor that it sounds like he’s trying to sell one person the whole business, not just a caramel bar, it’s because he so completely believes in what we do here.

And that’s true for all of the people that work here. Now, including me.

We might not have the magic that Willy Wonka has, but we certainly have the same drive and the passion for our trade, and for producing something that will delight others.

Today, when I see my three little brothers here at the candy store, it harkens me back to my childhood and how magical this place can be.

It the dream of all three of my brothers to work at the candy shop when they are older and I hope that one day they can be where I am now, looking at this business not just from the perspective of a child who believes in magic, but from the perspective of an adult who is amazed at learning how much life goes into the production of a small piece of chocolate.

A cute, sneaky, customer story

2011-11-22T20:26:00.000-08:00

Editor's note: Here at the candy store in Richmond, Illinois we get hundreds of emails, phone calls and letters each year from costumers who give us a little snapshot into what happens to our candies once they leave 10301 Main Street.

It is these stories that brighten our day and inspire us to continue to produce candy like the generations before us always did.

In this post I'll share a few examples of the kind of feedback we get.

The smiling woman in the photo below is the owner of Toom Toom Thai restaurant in Elgin, Illinois. She posted a photo of herself smiling with a box of our candies after she received the treats as a Thank-You gift from a customer.

To see another particularly cute upload visit our Facebook page. (You'll find an adorable young customer in Colorado enjoying a chocolate Easter bunny.)

During the past year, in fact, Facebook has become one of our favorite ways receive feedback. To round out this post, I'll share with you what is probably my favorite Facebook share this year.

The story is from a customer who has enjoyed Anderson's Candy since her childhood in Crystal Lake, Illinois.

Her name is Amanda Glauser Schneegass and she wrote to us this fall about her sneaky 80-year-old father.

"My Dad received two, one-pound boxes of your candy for his Birthday from me last week," she said.

"He lives in Michigan and called to say he shared the first box with my Step-Mom, BUT he has 'stashed' the second box in his sock drawer." Amanda continued. "She doesn't know about this box and I don't think he will be sharing this with her."

Amanda later wrote that her father is very, "bipartisan" when it comes to his favorite candies.

It turns out that he grew up in Ringwood, Illinois and got married to my Amanda's mom in 1956.

The couple had two daughters lived in Crystal Lake for 32 years before retiring to Michigan.

"I'm not sure exactly when he was first introduced to Anderson's Candy, BUT, I remember him driving us to your shop when it was just the one room store front when we were very young," Amanda wrote.

"It was a treat for us and we were thrilled getting to pick a BIG piece of candy for each of us," she said.

In case it wasn't clear from this post, we LOVE feedback! Share your stories with us in the comments section below or email AndersonsCandyShop@gmail.com.

Resisting temptation

2011-11-11T06:35:00.000-08:00

When people find out that I am part of a family that has been making chocolate candies for four generations, they always ask some version of, "Do you ever get sick of the chocolate?"

The answer is NEVER.

I have been sneaking, snacking and gorging myself on our candy since I was a little girl.

In fact, it is actually hard for me to understand when customers tell us that they can make a box of our candy last a whole month in their house.

Not because it won't stay fresh that long, but because I would simply devour all of it right away.

When I am at the candy shop in Richmond, I frequently "taste test" a few pieces of candy while working. All of our employees are actually encouraged to do this from time to time in order to ensure quality.

Recently however, my ability to use restrain when it comes to eating our chocolate has been tested – at home.

I brought home to my sweetie (pictured with me above) a six-piece box of his favorite candies.

Four days ago, there were three milk chocolate Buttered Rum Truffles and three milk-chocolate-covered cherries.

Today, there are two Buttered Rum Truffles and two chocolate-covered cherry pieces still left in the box!

While I know I should be happy that he is choosing to savor his favorite candies, I can't help but be a bit annoyed by the sweet, rich treats that he is leaving out to taunt me each morning.

Recently on our candy shop Facebook page, we heard a delightful story from a woman who's father is a candy saver, too.

In our next post, we'll share her story. It warmed our hearts and gave us a chuckle and we hope you like it, too!

And, as always, if you've got a question for the family or an Anderson's Candy Shop story of your own to share, post a comment below or email me, Katie Anderson, at AndersonsCandyShop@gmail.com.

A happy (delicious) accident

2011-10-20T11:27:00.000-07:00

Welcome back to a special edition of Chocolate Chat. Today's entry is from third-generation candy maker (my Dad) Leif Anderson. He shares the story of how an accident in the cooking room brought about a new type of candy. It is Dad's first stab at a blog entry and I think he did great! Let me know what you think.
Blog editor, Katie Anderson

It's funny sometimes how discoveries are made.

While researching the flu in 1928 Alexander Fleming noticed that a blue-green mold had infected one of his petri dishes - and killed the bacteria growing in it. Viola! Penicillin was discovered.

Just a few months ago, I myself made an exciting accidental discovery – albeit it probably will not be as world-changing as Mr. Fleming's.

A new cook and I were making a batch of Raspberry Mallow – a layer of homemade marshmallow over a layer of raspberry jel. Yes, we also homemake the jel, using real raspberries and real raspberry extract.

My assistant cook became distracted listening to the radio and forgot to add the raspberry flavor to the jel.

I decided to add the flavoring to the marshmallow itself instead and see if that boosted the flavor enough to save the batch.

It did! It also reminded me that I had been wanting to find time to experiement with a way to make our own marshmallows for use in our boxes of individual chocolate dipped candies.

When the Raspberry Mallow batch was done, we had a little extra of the flavored marshmallow left and so we poured that into a separate pan and prepared it to be cut up into small cubes and dipped in chocolate. We then let it loose in our store this June for a test with all of you!

The new raspberry-flavored marshmallow pieces were available for sampling in our store for about a month and many of you requested that we send you a taste of the new treat along with your mail orders this summer.

You made the creation a hit and Raspberry Marshmallow is here to stay.

I guess whomever first said, "I'd rather be lucky than good," knew what he was talking about.

But that shouldn't surprise me too much, the Raspberry Marshmallow incident isn't the first time Lady Luck visited our cooking room. But I'll save that story for another day.

Leif Anderson

The Anderson family can be reached at AndersonsCandyShop@gmail.com.

A sweet lesson

2011-10-04T16:12:00.000-07:00

Welcome back to Choclate Chat. Today's entry is from fourth-generation candy maker Susanne Anderson. She shares the story of how a mischievous little girl learned how to take care of chocolates.
Like a great piece of candy her story delivers immediate gratificatin and keeps you coming back for more! I hope you enjoy it as much as I did.
Blog editor, Katie Anderson

When I was little – think grade school – my absolute favorite piece of chocolate from the Candy Shop was Buttercream. A thick, moist, vanilla cream that delighted my tongue with a burst of sugar. I ate it only in milk chocolate. Dark chocolate was yucky.

By the time I was in grade school I had become quite a thief. I would sneak around, thinking myself very, very stealthy, and steal little pieces of this and little pieces of that and lots and lots of Buttercreams.

I realize, now, that everyone probably knew and no one probably cared that I taste tested so many ingredients and quality checked so many pieces of chocolate, but at the time I thought I was quite sly.

The hardest things to steal were individual pieces of candy. They were, and still are, kept in blue and red boxes (for dark and milk chocolate),and are stacked four-high in shelves that start about three feet from the ground. Each box can be filled with at least two layers of chocolates and weighs about six pounds when full.

Three feet is not an astronomical height for a shelf. However, when you’re only four feet tall yourself, and you’re pulling a full box out from underneath a bunch of other full boxes, it can get tricky.

Today when I’m in this situation, my mind is fully concentrated on not dropping any of the boxes. When I was young? Well…

On one summer day when I had nothing better to do than engage in my stealth activities, I decided to go for my favorite piece: a Buttercream in milk chocolate. I initiated the usual attack, passing through the packing room, where pieces of chocolate are kept, a few times until the coast was clear and there were no employees in the room. Then I grabbed my chance.

I marched to the shelf that the red box of milk Buttercream sat on and took in the situation. It was the worst possible scenario: Buttercream was at the bottom. Three other boxes sat on top and the stack towered six inches over my head – but I didn’t panic.

I glanced to my left and right to make sure I was still alone and began to hoist the, at least, fifteen pounds of chocolate, up with my left arm. Then I grabbed the Buttercream box with my right hand, slid it from beneath the others and held it while I gently lowered the boxes in my left hand. I was going to get away with it!

But then – my arm lost its balance.

The box wobbled. It hit the packing table. The lid flew off and it all crashed to the floor.

Little chocolate-covered Buttercream pieces strewn everywhere under the packing table, and the shelf of chocolate, and rolling into the hard to reach corners of the room. I didn’t know what to do.

I thought about running and hiding, but I knew someone had to have heard the topple, so I just stood there, staring at the mess of chocolates on the floor.

When I finally came out of the trance it was for my uncle’s voice. He was the last person I wanted to see this. My dad? He would have taken pity on me. Told me it was OK and that next time I just needed to ask for help. He might have even cleaned it up for me. But my Uncle Lars, well, I didn’t think he would be so forgiving. And I was right.

“Well, here,” my uncle said, handing me a few small white boxes that we normally packed wrapping caramels in.

“Pick them up and put them in here. We can’t sell them now, but I don’t want you to throw them away.”

It should be noted that the Buttercream box, at the time of the spill, was completely full.

“You can’t eat anything else until you’re done.”

I spent the next three months eating nothing but milk chocolate Buttercreams. My boxes were kept in the chocolate packing room and everyone knew what happened so unless I wanted to risk another covert mission, I was stuck.

I ate, and ate, and ate Buttercreams.

At first, I tried eating them as fast as I could. I figured that the sooner they were gone, the sooner I could have a Krispy Rice or a Pudding or some Old Tyme Fudge or a chocolate covered pretzel or maybe a Peanut Fritter or anything except Buttercream. The possibilities were endless!

But my boxes of Buttercream were endless, too. And they weighed on me. I dreaded craving chocolate because I knew that the only thing there was to ease the craving was the useless, boring, bland, blah, plain old Buttercreams. And I ate, and ate, and ate the Buttercreams.

Then, one day, there was only one piece left.

I unceremoniously tossed it in the trash and was so excited that I finally got to eat something else that I just stood there staring at the boxes of choices. I had thought about this moment so much and now that it had come, I didn’t know what to pick.

Eventually, my eyes came to rest on Pudding, but not in my usual milk chocolate style. I reached instead for the blue box of dark chocolate Pudding pieces and thought, “Yes, this is it.” With the first chew I was in love. It was bitter and smooth and intense and it was everything that Buttercream was not.

I promised myself then that I would never ever eat another Buttercream.

'
Dear Uncle Lars,

This is probably not exactly the way this story happened. However, I was young and this is what my mind has decided happened all those years ago. I’m sorry you’re the villain in this story, but don’t worry, I’ve been very careful ever since.

You’ll also be happy to know that although I didn’t eat another Buttercream for years after this, it is now, again, one of my favorites.

Love, Your niece Susanne

Your memories!

2010-11-15T18:59:00.000-08:00

One of the great things about the Internet is that with it Anderson's Candy Shop has gained the ability to share stories and connect with our friends all over the country!

In the previous Chocolate Chat post, Susanne Anderson shared one of her favorite memories from growing up in the Anderson family.

We've decided it would be a nice idea to follow that up with sharing some of your favorite memories of our candy shop. The following are some memories that our friends and fans have shared via our Facebook page and website! We hope you enjoy them as much as we did :)

So, without further ado...

"I used to have a paper route when I was a kid. Every week I would take my tips and go to Andersons for a candy bar or two... back then they were 26 cents with tax!! My favorites were the pudding and the rice krispy bar. YUM!"
- Tina Petersen Coull

"I used to live across the street to the late Charles Anderson and he always had a pantry full of Anderson's candy. Every time my sister and I would go over there, he would let us pick out one candy bar each. He got us hooked at a very young age."
- Kathy Pierce

"I was raised on Anderson's chocolates, since my Grandma Letah was a "dipper" for many, many years. Her clothes, hair, skin all smelled like chocolate! And we had the best Easter baskets ever - including plenty of my favorite, Buttercream Eggs. I'm happy that the business is still in the family - especially MY family :)"
- Jill Murtagh

"I grew up in Richmond, IL, knowing the original Mr. and Mrs. Anderson. My parents put Anderson's chocolates in my Easter basket. I've lived in northern WI for over 45 years, have tasted many other brands of candy but have never found one with the same delicious and high quality as Anderson's. Over the years, whenever my family was able to visit IL, it always meant a stop to my favorite candy shop."
- by Elizabeth Morris

"My mom used to purchase the mint meltaways for my sister every Christmas! She would also send chocolates to my grandma in FL...they NEVER showed up all melted! It was amazing!"
- Shelli Metzger Eder

"My Aunty works there. I always enjoy my trips there and looking at all the neat stuff in the shop. I really enjoy watching the ladies in the back hand dip the chocolates. so fun!"
- Karen Ziegler

Thanks for sharing! We'd love to here even more memories so post them below or e-mail AndersonsCandyShop@gmail.com to share :)

Grandma's Hands

2010-08-19T19:26:00.000-07:00

When prompted by my sister, again and again (“Susanne, will you please write something for the blog about Grandma’s hats?”), to write a blog entry about my memory of my grandmother’s hats, it stumped me. While I know my grandmother was seldom seen without a hat in the later years of her life, for some reason, this facet of her character does not bring her readily to mind. It was later, after rummaging through old pictures in search of a grandmother-with-hat photo, that I realized the key to unlocking the memory of my grandmother: her hands.

Though there is no denying her hats were an integral part of her style, it is my grandmother’s hands that link me to her. Even as a child I remember marveling at how soft and small, yet capable her hands were. Just thinking about them seems to bring me back to being 8 years old, wondering if there was something in the chocolate her hands spent so much time in that made them extra soft. Her hands were her livelihood, her creative expression, her way of showing affection. She did so much with those hands.

With her hands she molded chocolate bunnies, crosses and chicks for Easter. I remember standing in the Molding Room (or “Bunny Room,” as some may say), watching her quickly and carefully shaving off the excess chocolate, amazed at her speed and dexterity. She would pull the back of a small knife up the edge of a bunny with a quick flick of her wrist, wipe her knife on her apron and discard the chocolate shavings in a matter of seconds. Years later, when I would learn the same skills and method, I would wonder at her even more. How did she move so quickly?! And how did she not melt the chocolate?! (Now I know to run my hands under cold water every few minutes. I wonder if she used the same crude trick.)

With her hands my grandmother dipped chocolates as well. In the dipping room she would reign in a quickly spreading pile of melted chocolate, then run it through her fingers to check its consistency. (I would play in mud puddles outside and pretend to do the same.) I watched carefully as she covered nuts, creams, fruits, and chewies in a layer of thick chocolate and marked them appropriately. The ability to read chocolate marks is one thing – the ability to write them is another. To this day I am in awe of dippers who can do the latter.

With her hands my grandmother also loved. Whenever I would see her she would pull the strings on the hood of my coat and tickle my face with them. I can still feel her delicate skin brushing my face when I think of her hands.

Sometimes I wish I could have learned to do all these things from my grandmother, but I think being able to work in a building that holds such strong memories of her for me is almost as good. All I’ve got to do is think about her hands.

- Susanne Violet Anderson, fourth generation candy maker

NOTE: The picture above was taken in the fall of 1997. Violet Anderson is seated at a table in a restaurant in Richmond, Illinois. She is wearing one of her signature hats. Susanne, at age 10, is seated next to "Grandma Vi" probably chatting with her sister, then-11-year-old Katie.

Anderson's hits the road; ice cream, donuts & candy in tow

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Dad and Uncle Lars decided to take the candy store on the road back in 1990. We began pretty small, pushing chocolate samples and business cards in commercial barns at a handful of fairs and festivals in northern Illinois and southern Wisconsin.

Some 21 years later we've come a long way and have learned a lot.

I am proud to say that we are still traveling the carnival circuit -- now outdoors with a fancy concession trailer -- and have developed quite a few friends along the way.

My father, Leif, and the rest of our family throughly enjoys working each of the fairs.

In doing this, we have been able to meet, chat with, and enjoy the company of hundreds of new and longtime customers.

And, in a funny way, we've created a monster. After adding cinnamon & sugar mini-donuts and ice cream sundaes along the way, we have become famous at the fairs for reasons that don't include chocolate! Sometimes we even have to remind fair-goers, 'Hey! We do chocolate, too!'

Whether you're a regular county fair patron or haven't been out to the grounds for a while we encourage you to visit one of the fairs we set up shop at each summer. Each offers a cheap and safe way to have great food and lots of fun!

Our 2010 Fair Schedule is as follows:

July 27 - Aug. 1, Lake County Fair, located at the coroner of Peterson and Midlothian Roads in Grayslake, Ill.
Aug. 10 - Aug. 15, Boone County Fair, located in Belvidere, Illinois here
Aug. 18 - Aug. 22, Kenosha County Fair, located in Wilmot, Wisconsin here
Sept. 1 - Sept. 6, Walworth County Fair, located in Elkhorn, Wisconsin here
Sept. 8 - Sept. 12, Sandwich Fair (aka DeKalb County Fair), located in Sandwich, Illinois here

If you see us out at the fairs this summer, be sure to stop by and say hello! And, if you've met us during a previous fair, please leave a comment below or e-mail me at andersonscandyshop@gmail.com and remind us about it!

I grew up in a candy store

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Well, sort of ...

My name is Katie Anderson and I am the oldest daughter of third generation candy maker Leif Anderson -- the current owner and operator of Anderson's Candy Shop in rural Richmond, Illinios.

My father, Leif, and his brother, Lars, inherited the business from their mom and dad, Raynold and Violet Anderson. "Vi" and Raynold inherited the shop and all of its secrets from Arthur and Gertrude Anderson -- Raynold's parents.

You can see my dad (at left) uncle, great grandpa and grandpa (at right, from left) all making candy in the photo.

I was born into this family of confectioners in 1985.

Although my family did not actually live in the candy store when I was growing up (we had a house in the neighboring town) I, like my father and his father, in large part grew up at the candy store.

You see, as head cooks, accountants, janitors, repair men and the face of Anderson's Candy Shop, Anderson's are never truly away from work. Grandma and grandpa used to answer their home phone with a business-like, "Hello, Anderson's" and my dad often does the same on his cell today.

As I begin this blog, it is my hope that it will serve three purposes:

To encourage dialouge between customers and the family at Anderson's.
To share stories -- happy and sad -- from the past 90+ years in the candy business.
To post information about store offerings and events like Classic Car Cruise Nights in Richmond and our upcoming County Fair schedule

I'd also like to incorporate more than just promotional material and my point of view in these pages. I'd love to post stories, comments, questions and pictures from customers, family and friends along the way.

I encourage you to contact me at any time at AndersonsCandyShop@gmail.com.