Brown Sugar. Hard Centers. What's in a name?

EDITOR'S NOTE: When you run a small business, there is never down time. While Christmas and Easter keep us running simply to fill orders, the spring months are devoted to catching up with paperwork and marketing. Each spring, we at Anderson's Candy Shop take a step back and look at trends in what we are selling, and NOT selling, and try to correct. This year we noticed three major "duds" in sales. The following walks you through what we discovered and the changes we have made in response.

Names are important. 

Would you look something up on “Backrub”?

Would you watch a movie starring Norma Jeane Mortenson? Or a cartoon show about Mortimer Mouse?

Does a nice, cold “Brad's Drink” sound delicious?

How about using Google to search for a movie staring Marilyn Monroe or Mickey Mouse while drinking an ice cold Pepsi?

Sound better?

Surely each of these name changes had an impact on the popularity of each person or product.

At Anderson's we recognize that names carry a lot of weight and we like to think we understand a thing or two about naming our own products.

But sometimes, we know we've gotten it wrong.

Two years ago a customer pointed out an error in our ways when he insisted that werename the Filbert candy bar Hazelnut.

A few letters different and today the once slow-selling chocolate covered Filbert is enjoying a lot more love and understanding as the trendy Hazelnut.

We feel it is that time again.

Our storefront associates have pointed out to us that a few of our handmade chocolates need a new lease on life – and an updated name!

Don't be alarmed, we haven't changed a single recipe or ingredient. But, we did listen to our storefront associates suggestions, and the next time you're in our shop or browsing online, you will notice some new products (or at least new names)!

The first starlet to enjoy a name change this spring was our Meltaway Cream bar.

Sweet, rich and smooth this candy bar was constantly misunderstood.

Folks who loved peppermint would reach for Meltaway and then recoil when they realized what they were reaching for was not mint, but a brown sugar buttercream.

And who could blame them?

Meltaway Fudge is minty, and so are Frosted Meltaways … what were we thinking!?

With the help of a call-out to our Facebook friends and a brainstorming session in house, we settled on a more descriptive name.

So, on a rainy Friday in May, Meltaway Cream became Brown Sugar Buttercream.

It has been almost a month now and we don’t think Brown Sugar Buttercream will ever look back!

Instead of being passed over by those seeking mint, scores of chocolate lovers are now enjoying the velvety, brown sugar cream center.

It is funny to be on the serving side of the counter when one of our regulars exclaims, "Oh, Brown Sugar Buttercream! That sounds good. I don't remember seeing that before. I'll try one of those."

Little do they know it's been there all along.

In some ways, changing the name of a product is as easy as ordering new packaging.

But the transition also presents challenges.

We fret - will current fans of the given product be able to locate it under its new name?

Will fans fear that we have changed more than the name and - gulp - the ingredients, too?

These were some of our major concerns with the two other candy products that we have recently renamed – our Hard Centers assortment and our Hard & Soft Centers assortment.

Although these assortments include some of our most popular pieces of candy - Buttercreams, Caramels, Peanut Butter Crunch pieces for example - they are duds at the sales counter.

And again, who could blame the customer? What is a “Hard” center?

The word Hard is typically associated with rocks, stones, breaking teeth, and difficult personalities. Not delicious candy!

And for that matter, a “Soft” center could be… well, anything.

So, after more brainstorming, we arrived at the following longer, but hugely more descriptive, new names.

INTRODUCING! Crunchy, Nutty, Chewy. (Formerly Hard Centers)

If you are a fan of chocolate dipped crunchy centers like molasses and mint chips and peanut butter and raspberry crunch AND you love our chewy centers, including caramel,nougat and butterscotch AND you are a fan of our chocolate dipped nuts - you can now purchase a box of our Crunchy, Chewy, Nutty centers!

And, last but certainly not least, we introduce to you: Everything But Nuts.  (Formerly Hard & Soft Centers)

If you are a customer who loves everything we make, BUT can not have nuts then Everything But Nuts is for you!

We know it's not Pepsi or Google, but we're hoping these names changes really do give our beloved bar and boxes new leases on life.

How Filbert became Hazelnut

EDITORS NOTE: In this blog I aim to share what it is like to grow up in, and work at Anderson's Candy Shop through stories about our family, customers and our chocolates.

My two favorite aspects of my job are collaborating and goofing around with my sister, Susanne and being able to interact with our customers.
This blog... well, it showcases my two favorite things and lets you in on some recent drama at the shop surrounding a little-known nut. This post is based on a true story. There is a real customer named Michael Hedrick and he really did give us a $20 bill. We got a little creative from there. I hope you enjoy!
                                                                                                       

Meet Filbert.

He’s round (chubby, some say), with pale skin and brown freckles.  

He’s earnest and follows the rules (maybe a bit naïve).  He doesn't quite fit in, a bit of a square peg in a round hole – or in this case, a round peg in a square hole.  He’s nervous a lot.

Filbert also happens to be a nut that we at Anderson’s dip in chocolate and sell in candy bar form. And, for a long, long time, Filbert has been very unpopular.

He just doesn't fit in with the rest of the nuts.

Brazil is tall, handsome and foreign; Cashew deliciously curvy with a golden brown tan; Pecan has delicate, symmetrical folds and Almond is just everyone’s favorite.

With competition like that, who wouldn't be nervous?

But Filbert dreams of more. 

He dreams of achieving his inner potential.

Filbert dreams of transcending his small, freckled stature and showing the world what a robust, smooth flavor he has.

He may not taste like the other nuts, but that is his strength. He is unique and he dreams of one day standing up and boldly saying, “Add me to your chocolates! No longer will I apologize for my roundness!  CALL ME HAZELNUT!”

We Anderson’s have talked of Filbert’s potential, but we haven’t been able to bring it out – until now – until we met Michael Hedrick.

Michael Hedrick of Barrington

With one gesture, Michael changed the course of Filbert's destiny and crossed over from good customer, into the territory of customer of legend.

On a recent trip to our Richmond shop Michael met Filbert.

While Michael is typically more interested in our fruit selection – apricot and coconut are among his favorites – he inquired on that trip about Filbert.

As he gazed down through the glass of the candy bar case at our selection of chocolates, his eyes passed over the nut section and he asked one of our employees, Barb, a question that got straight to the heart of the matter:

“What is filbert?” he mused.

Barb, having known filbert a very long time, told Michael that Filbert was also sometimes known around the shop as Hazelnut.

Fascinated by the fact that such a dynamic little nut had been hiding in the bar case right in front of him for so long, Michael wondered why Filbert hadn't let the world know who he was inside.

“What would it take to let Filbert be Hazelnut?” Michael asked Barb.

“You stamp each bag with the candy bar’s name – is all it would take to make the change buying a new stamp?”

Skeptically, Barb replied, “Yes.  But I’m not sure Filbert will ever change.”

About a month passed and unable to stay away, Michael found his way into our Barrington shop and visited Filbert.

Michael felt compelled to give Filbert the push he needed to realize his true potential. Micahel knew that Filbert had everything it takes to be a star, what he needed was an image makeover and someone to fund it.

After checking out with his bag full of chocolates, Michael approached Katie about Filbert's situation and offered to fund Filbert's metamorphosis.

Michael handed Katie a fresh, crisp twenty dollar bill and said those words that Filbert had so longed to hear, “Buy a Hazelnut stamp.”

It was a long road, but clad in his new label the Hazelnut that was there all along finally came out. 

He isn't nervous around his peers anymore.

He’s proud to be the round little nut with the big, smooth flavor.

They say the clothes make the man, and in this case, the stamp made the nut.
http://www.andersonscandyshop.com/product_info.php?cPath=cPath=53&products_id=112

Winning mom over - "seconds" and a lifetime of love

Editor's Note: I love a good love story. I also love hearing about how the candy my family has been making for four generations has played a part in our customers' lives. This blog combines both. The following is an excerpt from an email we received during Christmas time at the candy shop. It was written by long-time Anderson's customer Nancy Meyer to my father, Leif Anderson.

Meyer claims that her four adult sons owe "their very existence" to Anderson's Candy Shop. We found her message delightful and very touching. 

Because we enjoyed Meyer's tale, and because that most-romantic-of-holiday's is right around the corner, we thought you would enjoy Nancy's story, too.

Thank you Nancy, for sharing, and without further ado ... the words of Mrs. Meyer.


Aloha Mr Anderson. It was good speaking to you as I ordered candy for my 4 adult sons who owe their very existence to your shop.


As I related to you, my husband Charles Meyer was the son of Julia and Gerhard Meyer who owned the Meyer Tourist rooms at the south end of Richmond in the 1950's.

Young and in love - Nancy Mellor and Chuck Meyer.

Charles aka Chuck went away to college in Madison, Wisconsin and mutual friends introduced us.


At the time, I lived just outside of Madison and my mother was not particularly enthusiastic about my college boy suitor UNTIL after one fated trip home to Richmond when he returned with a gift for Mom.


It was a box of Anderson's Candy and the reaction was remarkable.


It melted all of Mom's resistance to Chuck.

Nancy's grandfather
Charles Johnson aka Dutch

Mom had memories of your establishment going back to her childhood in Chicago. Her father would borrow a friend's open top car and drive up to your business -- this would have been in the 20's as Mom was born in 1915.



Money was definitely not plentiful for them so my grandfather would buy bags full of "seconds" and take them back to Chicago to enjoy.


Mom had such good memories of those treks and the candy that all resistance to Chuck melted when she realized that he was the way to tap those childhood memories once again.

...

Chuck and I were married 47 years before he died in 2006.

Nancy Meyer and Charles Meyer - happily married.

We had four sons, the people who will receive the candy ordered today.


Throughout our life together Chuck and I lived mainly in Michigan but also in Belgium, France and Japan. But any visit back to the area would absolutely have to include a stocking-up stop at Anderson's.


We bought for ourselves and the sons all remember the time in your shop as fondly as they were each allowed to choose their own personal candy bars.


During each stop, we'd often tell the story of Mom and her "seconds" and ask the clerk if perhaps there were any second of any kind to be had that day.

Nancy's mother Betty Johnson Storie

On more than one occasion the clerk would quietly reach over and thump on a bar that would, of course, break, and say "yes, we have a second."


We would take Mom her second and she would enjoy her childhood memories once again.


Mom enjoyed her last second during the summer of 2004 and died the next year.

...

I do think the existence of your business was quite influential in lessening my Mom's resistance to the brash young college man I had taken a fancy to all those years ago, and therefore is part of the reason we were able to survive our courtship, marry and raise four sons who have their feet firmly planted in the Midwest no matter where else they might live.


Thanks for being part of our lives.


- Nancy Meyer

Nancy Meyer and her sons William (Bill), Steven (Steve), Scott, and Andrew (Andy).

Because what we do matters

EDITOR'S NOTE: This blog is very personal. It attempts to explain why my sister, Susanne, and I have created a special charity assortment of chocolates debuting this fall – the Anderson’s Candy Shop Give Back Box. For every one of these special assortments sold we will donate 25% of the proceeds to the Family Health Partnership Clinic of Woodstock, IL. Please read on for more information or visit www.andersonscandyshop.com

I wish I had known about the Family Health Partnership Clinic in 2006. If I had, maybe things would be different.

Six years ago this November, I found out that my mother, Ruth, had breast cancer.

I was 20 years old and home on Thanksgiving Break from Eastern Illinois University. I had come home early intent on surprising everyone. A happy surprise.

Upon sneaking into the house at about 3 a.m., I surprised mom first. She was on her way back to bed from a trip to the bathroom.

What happened next still seems like a dream to me -- unreal.

Even in the dark I could see that she was trying to hide something. And I was horrified when I realized that she was trying to block me from seeing that one of her breasts was triple it’s normal size.

There was a tumor.

She had hidden it well under her everyday clothes but the thin fabric of the nightgowns mom loved to wear could not hide the mass on her chest.

Shock and disbelief hit me first. Then horror, sadness, panic and anger.

Why had she not seen a doctor? How could she have let a likely cancerous growth get so large?

Then there was fear and tears. She might die.

My mother did not have health insurance or a job at that time. She let her condition escalate because she was afraid that if she was diagnosed with cancer before she had health insurance, she would not be able to afford treatment.

My sister, living at home at the time, was 18 years old and struggling to learn what she could to help our mom, but we were limited by our youth and naivety to the intricacies of health care policy and law.

Soon after I discovered mom's tumor, my Dad and his second wife, Tracy, helped my mom get approved for insurance through the State of Illinois. And, eventually, mom underwent a mastectomy, chemotherapy and radiation.

And she beat the cancer. For a while.

Three years later however, on a weekend trip home from my first job out of college, I had to convince mom once again to go to the hospital for treatment.

She had let her state insurance policy lapse because she could not afford to keep up with the payments. She also never got plugged in to a health care facility that helped her stay diligent with followup treatments.

In addition, she fell into a deep depression as one of the side effects of the radiation treatments.

The result -- the cancer was back and it was too late this time.

We learned shortly after mom was admitted to Centegra Hospital - McHenry, that the cancer had spread to her lymphatic system and metastasized her liver.

Five days later she was gone.

Ever since, Susanne and I, although surrounded by many loving and supportive people, have had to struggle with the pain and loss of someone whom we loved so much.

We have also wrestled since then with the thought that something as simple as knowing where clinics existed that helped the uninsured might have altered things; that having better knowledge of how the system works and what resources were available may have changed mom’s decisions and the outcome.

Two years after mom’s death and three years into my career as a journalist at daily newspapers, I thought I had gotten over most of those feelings of grief and regret.

I had written articles about all-consuming house fires, car accidents and other tragedies. But when I stumbled upon an assignment to write a piece about a volunteer at the Family Health Partnership Clinic of Woodstock, Illinois, I found myself suddenly very affected.

I learned about this place -- the clinic -- which provided consultations, medications and treatment to hundreds of McHenry County's uninsured. And I learned about the tireless volunteers there who care for the seemingly unending line of those who come seeking help.

After I interviewed my source,(Mary Lou was her name), I cried.

I cried because I was moved by her generous spirit. I shed tears for the hundreds of others who I imagined might be scared like my mother was. And I cried because I was so happy there were people there to help.

In her time on this earth, my mother taught my sister and I that what you do in this life matters.

And now as we now approach our third holiday season without her, Susanne and I find ourselves in a unique position to do something that we think would make her proud.

As October begins, we are closing in on our first year as full-time employees at the Candy Shop and now have control over several managerial aspects of the business. With that new freedom and power we have decided to create Anderson's first-ever charity-candy box.

Susanne and I have invented the Anderson's Candy Shop Give Back Box, a special chocolate assortment that we are going to sell this winter, in order to raise money for the Family Health Partnership Clinic.

By January, we hope to have raised some money to support the clinic and also hope to have raised awareness in the community to the clinic's cause. We want to help ensure that other families are aware of at least one local option for health care for the uninsured.

For more information about this project you can visit our website at www.andersonscandyshop.com.

Thank you for reading and have a happy and health rest of 2012.

Understanding the real magic

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

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.

I grew up in a candy store

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.