Chocolate is more than just a treat on Valentine's day, it's a lifestyle around here. According to the newspaper article written in 1989, my Great Aunt Gert said, "You're on your way with a chocolate a day." My grandmother was one of 5 daughters who literally grew up in the family chocolate factory.  Although the candy company has changed names several times depending on which relative owned it, Condie's Candies has been a Salt Lake staple since 1924. The true art and craftsmanship of handmade & hand dipped chocolates was a skill my grandmother and her 4 sisters inherited from their father. My mother remembers taking naps as a small child in the shelves of the candy factory and being put to work wrapping the hand made masterpieces in shiny foil.  Chocolate was serious business and they took their quality very seriously, always using the best ingredients.

My grandmother sold her share of the chocolate factory to her sister (she became SLC first female real estate agent) but never gave up her involvement and relationship with chocolate. Every year when I was little, starting in late October or early November, my grandmother turned her house into a chocolate lover's dream. She hand made all the centers for yummy caramels, olympia creams, penuche, mint, lemon creams, coconut chews, toffees, nut clusters and always a few cherries.  Grandma could only dip chocolates in the winter months because the chocolate needed the colder temperatures in order to harden correctly.  When we would go visit grandma during dipping season there would be snow on the ground but the windows were wide open keeping those precious chocolates from getting a grey film as they dried. As kids we were only aloud to dip a few things for ourselves like Oreos and gummy worms, and if supervised carefully, we could make a few nut clusters. Watching grandma's rhythm as she threw the center from one hand to the other, swirled it evenly in the melted chocolate, smacked the back of her hand on the marble slab to remove extra chocolate and then made the signature design on the top with her finger tips would be considered meditation by todays standards. It truly was magical to watch her create thousands of these little masterpieces every year.  I was allowed to contribute to the operation by putting each chocolate into its little brown cup wrapper. (A job I would give anything to be able to do again.)  As an adult I can also appreciate that we could eat as many as we wanted, which is how I learned to savor each bite and eat them slowly to avoid getting sick. 

I loved chocolate dipping season at grandma's!  (The smell is something you never forget, ask any of my cousins or aunts and that smell is probably what they think of first.)  I realize I could probably write a whole book on how generous grandma was with giving away her chocolate masterpieces.  We would fill boxes for the holidays and give them to absolutely everyone. Every teacher I ever had got a box of chocolates, all my friends got chocolates and all the neighbors counted on it at Christmas.  One of my older cousins got married on my 12th birthday and I remember the controversy surrounding chocolates for her wedding.  She had the nerve to get married in the hot summer, when grandma couldn't dip because the house temp was too high and would damage the chocolate.  After much debate, the problem was solved by using white chocolate instead of the traditional brown. It was such big news that the newspaper wrote a whole article about it. (I'm not kidding! See article below) 

Flash forward to dating my husband in college and our first Christmas as a couple.  I have a very small family and only a handful of family gatherings but Josh has a massive, tightly-knit extended family with a million holiday parties.  Because we were still in the courtship phase of the relationship, I went to every family party on his side studying these people and wondering what it would be like to be related to them all.  It was at Josh's Uncles holiday party, a former state senator, that our two worlds came crashing together and I started to think the universe was telling me something.  As Josh's Uncle walked us to the door that Christmas, he reached into a huge gift sack filled with his party gifts, and handed me a familiarly wrapped Condie's Candies Pecan Roll.  My jaw dropped and I said, "this is my family's candy company!" He laughed and told me they are the best and that he gives these pecan rolls out EVERY Christmas.  

It was at the very next Christmas that Josh and I got married.  Although it was the right season for chocolate dipping, grandma was too old to be able to dip the chocolates for my wedding. But she made some phone calls and got the family at Condie's Candy to make chocolates for my special day.  She assured me it was the same recipe, made with the same craftsmanship and quality she would have done.  She even let me wrap them in red, green and gold foil.  Looking back, those chocolates, placed on the sign in table, were probably one of the most important parts of my wedding. They represented a legacy of craftsmanship that surrounded me growing up. 

Now days, the legacy continues with my one and only daughter, she makes handcrafted jumbo gourmet marshmallows.  Several years ago, for her birthday, my mom took her down to the candy factory for a tour and to introduced her to the wonderful legacy she was born into.  For valentine's this year, she and I took a field trip to the candy shop so I could pick up some chocolates to give out with the marshmallows I commissioned her to make.  These days it's a tiny space and feels more like a jewelry store then a candy shop.  There are 2 locked glass cases in the center on the room with all the artisan flavors on display.  On the wall, proudly hanging, is the portrait of the 5 sisters- my grandma being the one on the far right. I tear up when I think that my daughter knows her great grandmother had a skill and craft that she could make a business out of.  Although I am not a master chocolate dipper, I am a master photographer and my other grandmother was a master gardner.  I come from a lineage of women who had mad skills and I want my daughter to know that she can be a master of something too.