Farmers Weekly Review

By Nick Reiher

I didn’t realize it growing up in Chicago, but H. Teller Archibald was among my earliest heroes.

He made his presence known throughout every neighborhood in the Chicago area, and at just about every holiday: Christmas, Valentine’s Day, Mother’s Day, oh, but especially Easter.

Mr. Archibald gave us the best assortment of sweets – as well as numerous tummy aches, sugar comas and, likely, a path toward high glucose – that we could imagine.

He founded the Fannie May company in 1920, when the luscious buttercreams were introduced, according to Wikipedia. Pixies, Mint Meltaways (The wife’s favorite), Trinidads and myriad other mind-boggling goodness followed.

For many of those years, the story goes, Mr. Archibald would not compromise on quality. When supplies were scarce during WWII, he made as many as he could until the cupboard of the good stuff was empty.

By the time I arrived on the scene, Fannie Mae shops were in every business district. But on holidays, they came to us.

My brother and I would sneak a few out of the Valentine heart Dad got for Mom, hoping we didn’t get an icky one. I don’t think it bothered Mom to have a few pieces of the succulent sugar bombs pushed in just a tad to test for ickiness. Same on Mother’s Day.

Easter? Easter for Italians, really any Europeans, is the Big Food Event. All the suffering during Lent gave way to a binge that would make Joey Chestnut’s tummy roast.

When Gramma was alive, we were treated not only to her homemade Italian Easter sweets and savories, but an additional Fannie Mae Easter basket to melt with the one from Mom and Dad.

Big Easter baskets, wrapped in cellophane, jammed with a solid chocolate bunny, smaller bunnies, foil-wrapped solid eggs and larger cream-filled eggs. Times two.

Dinner time? Nah, you go ahead. I’m just gonna lie down and die with a chocolate-ringed smile.

After we married, Tammy became a fan of Fannie Mae, with the aforementioned Mint Meltaways, especially. But one Valentine’s Day, I was able to convince the sweet Fannie Mae sweet to stuff a heart-shaped box with buttercreams and cashews, another of Tammy’s favorites.

I could feel the heat of the glares from the patrons behind me as the clerk deftly placed pieces of candy in ruffled, brown cups, followed by a few cashews in other cups, all to measure exactly 2 pounds.

At Easter, our kids joined the Fannie Mae club, but we did our best to mete out the candy reasonably, so as not to give them tummy aches and wire them like Swiss watches.

Alas, all good things must … change.

The Fannie Mae company outgrew its finances and nearly disappeared. Through buyouts and mergers, they stayed alive. Although considering one shop near Louis Joliet Mall closed, leaving one on 59 as the closest, I wonder for how long.

Fortunately, we in Joliet have a sugar-coated savior. Dan’s Candies has two locations on Cass Street, one on each side of the river, just in case – or when – the bridge goes out.

Truth be told, we are late-comers to Dan’s, having hung on to the Fannie Mae tradition. But, if this makes any sense, for really special occasions (or special orders), we have started going to Dan’s.

And let me tell you, their candies, especially the chocolates, are how Fannie Mae used to taste 30, 40, 50 years ago.

Don’t get me wrong, Fannie Mae still is very good. The buttercreams, mints and Pixies are wonderful.

But the flavor and texture of Dan’s chocolates bring back a lot of good memories. Ones many of us took for granted.

Thank you, Dan’s. And I hope we all continue to enjoy your sweet smell of success.

Nick Reiher, Editor of Farmers Weekly Review, is doing his best to watch his sugar intake.