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Happy Sunday!
This week we savor the sweetness of vintage candy and its highly collectible counterpart: the candy dish.
The sight of a candy wrapper might take you back to a place, maybe of your youth, where you craved what’s inside. And while it’s not necessarily hard anymore to find the candy of yesteryear, it’s still sweet to sink your teeth into an old-timey treat.
Some candies serve better in a vessel. But not just any ol’ vessel. The iconic candy dish has adorned kitchen counters and office desks for centuries, with dish makers as popular and well known as the candy their creations hold. M&Ms, jelly beans, crackled shards of ribbon candy…even keys, paper clips, and loose change find their way into them, their look and sound triggering memories.
In this issue, we check out some nostalgic sweets and the stories that make them sweeter. We also explore the attitudes surrounding the mostly revered “candy dish”. From classic and formal to quirky and kitschy, they deliver more than candy in their many shapes and sizes.
Yum!
Your Curio Roadies,
Wendy & Kate
This week in Curio:
General Store
Penny candy at the Five-and-Dime
The lost experience of 1-cent treats.
“Penny” candy at F.H. Gillingham & Sons in Vermont.
Kate and I both grew up in neighborhoods where we could pop into a storefront and buy individual candy pieces for one cent each. Just a penny!
The shopkeeper — the magician of our sugar rush dreams come true — would patiently peer at us kids as we gawked at his marvels in clear glass jars. As we made our choices, he’d remove a wide-mouth lid or slide open the door to a display case, reach in with his scoop, and drop a piece or two into a brown paper bag.
Spice Drops. Pixie Sticks. Boston Baked Beans. Orange Slices. Tootsie Pops. Butterscotch Buttons. Jelly-Filled Hard Candy. Gum Balls.
We were in heaven.
We had barely enough in the bag to get us through the path to the playground, but it was perfect. We’d finish it before going home and Mom might never know.
For Kate in Ontario, in the late ‘80s and early ‘90s, it was trips to the Mac’s Milk convenience store. The corner store was just far enough from her house to make going there a special kind of trip, not a regular thing. There is not much better than a penny candy haul when you’re a kid. And Mac’s Milk had a huge collection of tiny treats. Even if Kate only had a quarter, she’d leave with a small brown paper bag of twenty-five different treats. The variety! Penny candies allowed her indecisive sweet tooth to get it all — gummies and sours and chocolates.
For me in Buffalo, it was the Gramza Cigar Store on Broadway. Funny to think a shop that sold tobacco products to adults sold candy to kids, but they did, and us neighborhood kids went there often. In fact, I vaguely remember going in there as an older kid to buy Dad the thin cigars he was out of. How things have changed!
The candy! Honestly, the 5-cent long pretzel rods in the glass dispenser were my favorite.
According to a Facebook group I’m in, “Leonard R. Gramza opened his tobacco store in 1945…, a business that he operated until 2000.” The Buffalo native was a popular businessman in its Polonia district and he eventually worked for the county’s Parks department. Gramza died in 2001 at the age of 90, just a year after these photos were taken. The building that housed his shop is no longer there.
Mr. Gramza stands outside his treasured store in 2000. In the 1940s another family who lived in the upstairs apartment helped run the store below.
Nostalgic candy lovers can still acquire their favorites through a variety of physical and online retailers, although you’d be hard pressed to find any of it for just one penny.
Richardson’s Candy in Massachusetts is celebrating 70 years, and was featured on the Food Network a while back. They offer authentic vintage sweets in their shop and on their website. Cheapest treat? A three-inch Milk Chocolate Buffalo Coin for $1.50.
Vermont’s F.H. Gillingham & Sons sells penny candy online in one- or five-pound increments, starting at $3.99/lb. They encourage you to hide your treat bag once you fill it because you “never know who may be lurking about.”
One-cent candies aren’t the only rare gem. So are the five-and-dime stores that sold so much of it. Outside of Buffalo, Vidler’s 5-and-10 (one of my favorite places!) still thrives. Purchasing requires a physical visit (which I highly recommend), but online you can browse their unique products including a large selection of nostalgic candy. You can also learn about the significance of a “Japanese Five & Dime” that “embodied every intention that all five and dime stores seek to still do today – which is to make an impact, bring people together and provide one-of-a-kind and memorable items and experiences to customers.” How sweet is that?!
Some of the throw-back candy at Vidler’s 5-and-10.
These days, kids and young adults certainly have their own candy-related experiences and memories to savor. And there are places that let you pick out your treats one piece at a time.
But I don’t know of any down-the-street, neighborhood, mom-and-pop candy shops that still offer the penny candy experience we grew up with. Perhaps it wasn’t an effective business model, but it sure did bring a lot of joy….and maybe an extra trip to the dentist. 🤫
I agree with Kate — modern day childhood (and adulthood) would instantly be better with the return of penny candy!
Do you know of any penny candy stores that still exist? Are there any five-and-dimes where you live? Send us a note or leave us a comment. Include pictures or personal stories — we’d love to learn about them!
Troves & Tales
Suckers for Mrs. Murney’s homemade pops.
What the heck is a Murney Sucker?
That name means nothing to most people in the world, but to four-ish generations of South End kids living in Peterborough, Canada where I grew up, the Murney Sucker instantly recalls sweet childhood memories.
We talk lots about candy brands and how they differ across regions. Some are global. But what about the curious local varieties no one else in the world knows exist?
The Murney Sucker is one of those gems. A secret candy with a quaint story, the kind that is hard to find now.
My mother’s family and I lived in a neighbourhood that goes all the way back to the founding of the city a few hundred years ago. Mrs. Murney resided in a small war-time house on Rose Avenue. And all the kids in the neighbourhood knew if they visited this house they’d get a one-of-kind delight.
I remember my first time walking up the driveway, change in hand, eager to see how this all worked. My friends and I knocked on the side door and waited.
A woman, the picture of a kind grandmother, opened the door knowing what we wanted. As she took our coins and collected our goods, I peeked over her shoulder to see a quaint kitchen filled with muffin trays. She quickly returned to hand us the treat with her name.
We thanked her and scurried away, ready to dig into the sticky pop. We’d try not to get it on ourselves as we pulled the malleable ball with our teeth, having this moment of pure sugary kid joy.
Murney Suckers in their wax paper and muffin tins.
The Murney Sucker was a deep brown muffin-tin-shaped ball of molasses and sugar, attached to a popsicle stick and wrapped in wax paper.
My mother ate these same suckers. So did much of the region. Mrs. Murney continued to make them for children, almost up until her death.
She made them for community groups to use in fundraisers. And each Halloween she’d serve them to hundreds of kids. According to her daughter, Sonia, who continues the tradition, “She’d stamp kids’ hands so they didn’t repeat - she wanted everyone to get one.”
I wonder how many suckers she may have poured and wrapped over the decades. In an article remembering Mrs. Murney, Sonia suggests it’s in the millions.
Mrs. Murney receiving an award for her dedicated service to her community.
Mrs. Murney was an avid volunteer, winning awards for her decades of dedicated community service. She helped with sports and sewed costumes.
But she is best known for those delicious toffee suckers.
Along with all those molasses pops came the fistfuls of sweet memories so many of us have— thanks to this peculiar little treat and one woman’s amazing generosity.
Fork in the Road
The candy dish: uniter or divider?
“What do you put in your house candy dish?”
That was the simple question asked by a Reddit user a few months ago. The answers it prompted, and the discussion it generated, revealed it wasn’t so straightforward.
Limoges porcelain was produced in France as early as 1771, according to BBC. This divided Limoges candy dish can be yours for under $30.
The concept of a candy dish first appeared well before 1900 and some say it can be traced back to 18th century Europe where offering sugary bites to guests was a way for the privileged to show off their wealth.
If and how you use a candy dish today can be based on any number of reasons — where or how you grew up, your age, your sweet tooth, whether your grandmother had one, if you work in a shared office, your love of vintage glass, your practical need to corral miscellaneous small objects.
And not using a candy dish could be nothing more than a lack of need or interest. Or a snarky dismissal of them. One Reddit user replied, “You guys have candy dishes? 😂”, soon followed by, “Right? Adorable”.
Groan.
To be fair, lovers and haters alike amp up the snark. When a candy dish commenter muttered the short “What?”, another one retorted, “What do you mean what? Your grandma didn't have a candy dish?”
Strawberry-filled bon bons were ALWAYS at Grandma’s and I loved them! [photo: Haley Laurence]
My Polish grandmothers definitely had candy dishes. Growing up, they were a staple — the spot in the house you immediately went to, right after giving Grandma a hug and a proper hello, of course.
Mom had them too. There was the everyday candy dish, usually a clear glass Corning bowl that could be washed and handled repeatedly without fear of breaking something precious. There were the special ones that showed up when company came — the pink Depression glass dish that was my great-grandmother’s, or the “fancy” cut glass bowl that was one of my mom’s wedding gifts.
And there were the kitschy ones — like the jar at my Gram’s, that had glazed “M&Ms” piled high as the lid. Two jars in fact — one for peanut M&Ms, one for plain — because mixing was considered heresy! The M&M jars were “upgrades” from the small milk glass bowls that held them, although those bowls occasionally made appearances to hold overflow M&Ms, Hershey Kisses, or Ande’s Mints.
 The M&M jar from Gram’s house that is now mine. |  Fire King milk glass custard cup in the primrose pattern. I can see in my mind exactly where this was on Gram’s counter. |
I don’t consistently keep a candy bowl on my counter, but I have a collection of them that includes some inherited pieces as well as new vessels I’ve acquired along the way. And my mom still keeps one out every day, sometimes two.
All kinds of candy dishes, especially of the vintage glass variety, can be found on collectors’ websites, Facebook groups, auction and e-commerce portals, not to mention in your local thrift stores, antique shops, and estate sales.
Snarky social media commenters, take your corners — the candy dish endures!
Uranium glass, with its unique ability to glow under a blacklight, became popular in the mid 19th century. This cup, found at a Goodwill thrift store in Texas, bears the Eye Winker pattern originally made in the 1800s.
Some candy dish lovers are die-hard because of a general love of all things candy, stocking them full on the regular. Some are die-hard because of the specific style and craftsmanship of the dish, its collectability, or its history. And others are die-hard about what is or isn’t allowed to go in them: “Werther’s Original is the only acceptable answer”.
Many folks, including myself, seem to just happen upon them. The dish that catches the eye at a thrift store or yard sale — is it even meant for candy? Don’t know, but it’s pretty/charming/unique/weird and I gotta have it! Or the rose-speckled porcelain plate that sat on Great Aunt Florence’s coffee table. She never had children. Mom didn’t want it. So now it’s mine.
Like most vintage objects, candy dishes contain stories. They trigger images like the bowl I remember sitting empty except for the last few black licorice jelly beans only Dad would eat. For the stranger who picked up a green depression glass candy dish at a sale, it’s the note she got from the seller that said the dish was one of her mother’s favorite possessions and “she’d be so happy to hear it’s being loved and used again.” Which made another person wonder where her grandmother’s candy dish was, wishing she could have it.
Even the modern day candy bowl delivers more than the treats it holds. From corporate offices to family-run businesses and schools to government agencies, the offer of free candy at a designated location is a well-established and scientifically studied tool used to get people to interact. Call it bait, guilt, or generosity, a candy dish encourages the social extroverts to ham it up and even the shyest introverts to smile a “thanks”.
Blogger Herzogbr established an office candy dish protocol in a 2011 post.
Not everyone is a fan. Food trainers and diet counselors see the candy jar as their nemesis. Anyone trying to lose weight must strengthen their resolve to resist it. One “candy lady” defended her offering by claiming it “helped foster a sense of community at work” but couldn’t affirm whether a fruit bowl had the same effect.
In a 2011 blog post, Lauren Slayton summed it up: “There’s more to that little bowl than meets the eye and we all have candy bowl memories. My grandmother had a bowl of those coffee candies (black and white wrapper) whose name I can’t recall. And my dad was a Werther’s guy. There’s something inviting about that bowl and, as I’ve learned, the candy bowl owner is fully aware of that.”
Wilder Davies of Epicurious recognizes that influence and encourages candy “ladies” to go further. Bluntly declaring “Here’s Your Excuse to Buy a Beautiful Candy Dish”, he claims the vessel’s “appearance has power in determining the kinds of social interactions you bait. A spectacular cut-crystal compote bowl will gleam across a cubicle farm, catching a wide range of unsuspecting cross-departmental victims. On the other hand, a more reserved dish, perhaps with a lid, will limit exchanges to ‘those in the know,’ and people who are brave enough to ask.”
Carnival glass candy dish purchased at another Texas Goodwill store for a whopping $7.99.
Of course, just like that initial question on Reddit, perhaps it’s simply more innocent than all of that. A presumably young commenter chimed, “I thought old people things were in? Like there's a grand millennial aesthetic. I don't have a candy dish but I think it would be fun to get one, lol.”
Playground
Your next candy dish?
If you had to choose one of these as your next candy dish, which would it be? Why? What would you put in it?
Make a selection in the poll below. You can expand your thoughts after you cast your vote.
Of the four vessels shown, which would you want to have as your next candy jar? |
You can also send us a note or leave a comment with your pick!
Off Road
This week’s finds:
Enjoy a curated list? Conventry Direct put together the most popular retro candies in every U.S. State in 2022. “Abba-Zaba and Charleston Chews are the most popular, appearing as the favorite retro candy of 3 states.” My home state of New York supposedly prefers Chupa Chups, while Texas (where I currently reside) likes the Wax Lips. I dig candy buttons and stick candy, so perhaps I belong in Connecticut or Mississippi? Hmmmm….
What’s YOUR favorite retro candy?
This 2017 Ask a Manager article highlights fascinating candy dish research conducted by The Washington Post that revealed how we behave in different office candy scenarios: Do we dare take the last piece? Why do we make sounds before taking candy when the “candy lady” is present? And, OMG there’s a lid?!?!? As one commenter exclaimed, “Candy dishes with lids are so stressful! If it’s a full-on jar with a screw lid, almost no candy is worth the horror of standing there, unscrewing the lid and then replacing it in front of someone else.” You can also find out how to handle your greedy co-worker who takes too much candy. And what to do if you do not want your desk to host the controversial candy dish.
Would YOU take the last piece of candy?!?!
When Robinson Gardens’ Board Member, Rodney Kemerer, began cleaning up after a 2019 holiday party, his fully-filled candy dishes triggered a series of revelations about the out-of-date behaviors he and his wife still practiced. For them, the term “candy dish” defined more than an antique plate. It became a snarky label of distinction, serving up a quick diss to remind an unsuspecting recipient they were stuck in a bygone era.
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