The Denver Post

From “Be Mine” to “Youda Best,” the candy conversati­on evolves

- By Kim Severson

Of the many siblings in the seasonal candy family, candy corn is the quirky breakout star. The jelly bean is the reliable one. The candy cane is perpetuall­y cheerful.

But the conversati­on heart? It’s always been emotional and a bit needy.

The chalky little treats require annual tending. Months before each Valentine’s Day, candy companies begin pondering new messages and editing out the dated ones. The dozen or so fresh sayings must be both current and inoffensiv­e, charming and clever. And they can’t overshadow classic expression­s of romantic love, like “Kiss Me,” that were first inscribed in 1902 by the Boston company that had invented the Necco Wafer.

After more than a century of expressing emotion in the vernacular of the moment — “Call Me” became “Fax Me” became “Page Me” became “Email Me” became “Text Me” — the candy heart has become something of a barometer. Maybe the nation can gauge the state of love through its candy hearts.

For 2023, the Spangler Candy Co. — one of two manufactur­ers that dominate the market — has chosen an animal theme for its Sweetheart­s line. Phrases like “Big Dog,” “Love Birds” and “Purr Fect” are a nod to all the people who have acquired pets during the pandemic.

Last year, as the nation was still recovering, the company introduced 16 supportive slogans like “Youda Best,” “Fear Less” and “Good Job.” The idea, the company said, was to give people a lift.

Fans of more passionate slogans may not have been pleased, but Helen Fisher, a senior research fellow at the Kinsey Institute and the author of six books on love, sex and the brain, said the less amorous messages marked a cultural turning point.

“These candy hearts are yet another expression of this huge societal change since the pandemic,” she said. “... Much of the world is going to settle down, and along with that, they’re looking not only for romantic love but also for deep, long-term attachment.”

Valentine’s Day sweets make up only about 3% of candy sales, and it would be easy to dismiss conversati­on hearts as mere currency for grade school crushes. But about 23% of households buy nonchocola­te candies for the holiday, including talking hearts. Millennial and Generation X households with children are the biggest fans of Valentine’s sugar candy, according to IRI, a global market research firm.

The team writing the mottoes for next year’s batch of Sweetheart­s has already developed a new theme aimed at that demographi­c sweet spot. But before we get to where the conversati­on is headed, it helps to know where it has been.

The candy heart was born during the lozenge craze of the mid-1800s, when apothecari­es sold medicated candies to soothe sore throats and suppress coughs.

Making lozenges by hand was time- consuming. In 1847, a Boston pharmacist named Oliver Chase invented a machine that would stamp out medicinal versions from sugar paste. Since he was working in what was then the country’s candy-manufactur­ing center, he shifted gears and founded what would become the New England Confection­ery Co., or Necco.

Almost 20 years later, Chase’s brother began using a felt pad and red vegetable dye to stamp words onto the candy. The company cut dough into shapes like kites and baseballs, called them motto lozenges and embossed them with extended locutions like “How long shall I have to wait? Please be considerat­e” and “Married in pink, he will take to drink.”

The hearts came along in 1902. The basic recipe — about 90% sugar, with a little corn syrup and glycerin — hasn’t changed much. Flavors from the period have given way to an ambiguous array of what might best be called fruit-adjacent flavors, and wintergree­n.

For decades, the Necco hearts monopolize­d the market, until Brach’s jumped in during the 1950s. That company tried out tropical fruit flavors and for a limited time sold plastic boats filled with hearts called Friend Ships. This year, Brach’s has hearts with catchphras­es from the sitcom “Friends,” like “Moo Point.”

Brach’s officials have pointed out that their candies are laser-printed, producing a cleaner look than traditiona­l stamping, which can result in misshapen hearts and blurred letters. (A member of the Necco production crew told a writer for The Atlantic in 2013 that because P’s sometimes emerged looking like F’s, the company had stopped using phrases that started with P.) Candy-heart lovers split into camps. “Brach’s may not be able to take credit for printing salacious messages on candy hearts, but at least they had the decency to offer texture and flavor,” said Mike Pomranz, a food writer who once argued that Sweetheart­s were just reshaped Necco Wafers and that Brach’s softer texture made theirs superior.

By 2019, Brach’s hearts were the bigger sellers. The brand now commands 60% of the market for conversati­on hearts, which are the bestsellin­g Valentine’s Day candy, said Katie Duffy, the vice president and general manager of seasonal candy at the Ferrara Candy Co., which owns Brach’s.

But even Brach’s loyalists bow down to the history contained in more than a century of sayings, which over time became limited to the nine letters that fit on a tiny heart — fewer if they use a W.

For decades, the task of editing Necco’s 80 to 125 sayings each year fell to candy executive Walter Marshall. He solicited suggestion­s and drew inspiratio­n from the world around him, using more intuition than market research to pick the winners. He liked “You Go Girl,” which his granddaugh­ter heard on Rosie O’donnell’s talk show. He accepted “Awesome” but rejected “Phat.”

For a few years after Marshall retired in 2000, the company picked themes that were less about love and more about, well, anything. In 2003, it pursued an education angle, with “Let’s Read” and “Wise Up.” Even the weather had its moment, in 2008, with “Heat Wave” and “In a Fog.”

And on it went, some 5 billion little hearts a year, until Necco filed for bankruptcy in 2018. It sold its Sweetheart­s, Necco Wafers and Canada Mints brands for nearly $19 million to the family- owned Spangler Candy Co., an Ohio firm that also churns out DumDums and orange marshmallo­w Circus Peanuts.

In a crushing blow to first graders everywhere, there were no boxes of Sweetheart­s to exchange in 2019. Spangler, which began making the hearts in Mexico, couldn’t get the equipment ready in time. But the hearts were back the following year, and the new owners wrote their first set of messages. They went with the classics: “QT Pie,” “Sweet Talk” and “UR Mine.”

Then came 2021, the year of pep talk, and this year, with its “Paw Some” pet messages.

Which brings us to plans for 2024. Spangler has hired Tombras, the ad agency, to create Sweetheart­s’ first TikTok and Instagram accounts and help write new sayings.

The company won’t reveal them yet, but there is a theme. Despite Spangler’s newfound digital push, 2024 will be all about IRL, said Reise Kitts, who manages the account for Tombras.

“Anyone can go online and give likes out like candy,” he said. “Why not give candy out to show someone you like them for real?”

 ?? COLE WILSON — THE NEW YORK TIMES ?? The sweet messages on these Valentine hearts speak volumes about the state of our lives and loves.
COLE WILSON — THE NEW YORK TIMES The sweet messages on these Valentine hearts speak volumes about the state of our lives and loves.

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