Care and Feeding of a Sweet Tooth
A family history in candy
What I inherited from Grandma
We have a story in my family, most of the details of which have been lost to the ages.
Where this particular story took place, or how it came about are unknown, and, in many ways, irrelevant. Because the story isn’t about the place or what my grandparents were doing there, it’s about my grandma, Elvira Stelljes Semerau, and what she packed in her purses.
And packed is the correct word.
Grandpa used to joke his wife had a purse for every outfit, and she had a lot of outfits. He wasn’t far off.
Grandma loved purses, the bigger the better. And yes, size did matter, because Grandma saw her purse, not as a place to safely keep her money — she kept that rolled in an embroidered handkerchief and safety-pinned into her longline bra — but to ensure she had everything she needed in case of an emergency.
Any emergency.
Grandma’s purse was like Mary Poppins’ carpetbag.
Inside you might find a zipped Estée Lauder case filled with that season’s makeup collection; a container of safety pins and a small sewing kit; the pink rat tail comb Grandma used to fluff her curls; a compact mirror and a mirrored lipstick case.
Grandma’s purse could also conceal the souvenir screw driver Grandpa had given away to customers of his oil company back in the day; a small, discreet brown paper bag filled with folded just-in-case toilet paper; a rubber change purse, the kind that opened like a yawning mouth when you squeezed the ends; a worn palm-size copy of the New Testament; two key chains, one for the house and the other for the Buick; a pocket calendar; the address book filled with the name, address, phone number and important dates of everyone Grandma had ever met or known to-date; and a Minnesota map.
All those things were likely in Grandma’s purse, possibilities. But the one thing that was always in Grandma’s purse, the thing I remember Grandma checking to make sure she had in there every time she left the house, was a precisely sealed white and pink bag filled with Brach’s pick-a-mix candy.
Which gets me back to that family story.
While sightseeing somewhere, Grandma took a misstep and dropped her purse. The purse latch released, and out poured the entire contents of Grandma’s purse.
Including the white Brach’s bag.
As Grandpa, ever the gentleman, began gathering the contents of Grandma’s purse off the floor, Grandma started to laugh.
“Thank goodness the candy is individually wrapped!”
Jelly Bean Nougats, Milk Maid Royals, Caramels, Lemon Drops, Cinnamon Bears, Cool Starlight Mints, Chocolate Ripple Nougats, Kentucky Mints, Maple Nut Goodies. Everyone had their favorites when it came to Brach’s candy.
Dad was all about the butterscotch disks and would fill the pocket of his flannel shirt with a few extra whenever he had a chance. Grandma, on the other hand favored the Neapolitan Coconut Sundaes — layered squares of sticky chocolate, vanilla and strawberry-flavored coconut goodness, at least to her. Me, I always picked the spicy Root Beer Barrels, and Grandma always made sure she had enough around to feed my sweet tooth.
After all, she was the one from whom I’d inherited it.
Land of 10,000 lakes and two of Dad’s favorites
Of all the candies in all the world, my dad’s two most favorites – Nut Goodie and Salted Peanut Roll – were born and raised in Minnesota, just like him.
In 1909, 29-year-old Swedish immigrant, Per Edward Pearson, formed a candy distribution company in Minneapolis with his two brothers, John and Oscar. A few years later, two more brothers joined the company, and shortly after, the five siblings decided the real money was in manufacturing candy, not distributing it. So they pivoted.
The Pearson siblings creatively named their venture Pearson’s Candy Company, and set about making their fortunes.
In 1912, the brothers and their candy makers created a delicious glob of milk chocolate, maple nougat and roasted peanuts they dubbed “Nut Goodie”, and although it wasn’t an instant hit, it definitely put the local candymen on the map.
Fast forward to 1933, and Pearson’s Candy Company introduced another new confection, this one created by covering a log of nougat with rich caramel, and then rolling the whole thing in fresh roasted peanuts. They gave it another creative moniker, “Salted Nut Roll”, and it was a Depression era sensation.
My dad, Adrian Wegner, was born the next year in Brownton, MN, some 70 miles southwest of the Pearson’s Candy Company offices.
As a child, I remember Dad keeping a not-so-secret stash of both Nut Goodies and Salted Nut Rolls in the drawer next to the sink in our kitchen. I didn’t like peanuts back then – I still don’t, so Dad’s treats were safe from me…most of the time. I do remember a few times sneaking one of his Salted Nut Rolls, peeling off all those nasty peanuts and then gobbling up the yummy caramel-covered nougat. Delicious!
Dad’s been gone more than two decades now, but I think of him every time I see a Salted Nut Roll or Nut Goodie at the store. And, every so often, I grab one, just for him.
Finding gold in Brownton
Growing up I was fortunate enough to have three living grandparents. My mom’s folks, whom I called simply “Grandma and Grandpa”, and who make regular appearances in this space, and Dad’s mom, Eleanor Prahl Wegner, who was always “Grandma Wegner”.
As often happens with paternal grandparents, I didn’t spend nearly as much time with Grandma Wegner as I did with Grandma and Grandpa, despite the fact that both of their homes were roughly the same distance from the town where I grew up. We’d get together around the holidays, of course, though never actually on the holiday; and we’d make several just-because visits throughout the year.
My strongest memories of spending time with Grandma Wegner, however, are playing endless games of Chinese Checkers; swinging around like the ‘Flying Nun” on the solo merry-go-round which my sister and I loving called “the puke-o-lator; and walking across town to the local grocery store to buy candy.
At some point in every visit, Dad would pull us aside and give each of us a quarter. And off we’d go.
We’d turn left out of Grandma Wegner’s house — the house she’d lived in as a young girl and a new bride, where she’d taken care of her elderly parents and raised my dad and his three siblings, and where she’d lived as a widow since 1956 — then walk by her widowed sister’s house taking in the smell of Hertha’s roses and peonies. Two houses down, our pace would quicken as we came to the creepy pea green house occupied by three old spinsters who’d peer at us out the window, and who frequently haunted my dreams.
A right turn just before getting to Great Aunt Esther’s house would get us onto the crumbling sidewalk alongside the main road through town, but only for a block, then we’d cross the road — no stop signs or semaphores necessary, and be on 4th Avenue.
It was a nondescript street in an otherwise nondescript rural farm town, though each summer the businesses would come together to host a street dance there, complete with polka bands from around the area, food vendors and former residents who’d come home for the event, and for that night, at least, Brownton’s main street was the center of the world.
The grocery store, its name escapes me, was on the right in the middle of the block, in a narrow old building which, years later, I’d learn had once been owned by family. But as a kid, all I knew was that the candy racks were off to the left as soon as you entered.
My sister and I would stand in front of those candy racks for what seemed like hours, looking, taking, putting back and finally deciding on how best to spend out coins.
Eight times out of ten my decision was Gold Mine Nugget Bubble Gum. I liked the gum itself, nubbly nuggets of gum covered in a thick gold coating of hard candy. But what I really loved about my choice was the bag in which those golden nuggets came.
It was about the size of my hand, crafted of soft, open-weave muslin, and the top was drawn together by tugging tight on a thin braided cord of gold.
The gum would last a few minutes, but the bag was forever.
I had dozens of them back home, tucked into a blue Estée Lauder Youth-Dew Bath Oil box my other grandma had given me. I’d fill them with gumball machine trinkets and colorful marbles, with drawings and notes I’d written to myself, and with prizes I’d discovered at the bottoms of cereal and Cracker Jack boxes.
Truth be told, I probably still have some of those old gum bags somewhere in a drawer.
After paying for our chosen candy, my sister and I would take the long way back to Grandma Wegner’s house, walking the opposite direction down the main drag until we came to the little playground behind the all-school school that Dad and his sisters and brother had attended. We’d sit on the wooden teeter totter for a bit, maybe push each other on the swings or play hop-scotch.
If we were feeling brave, we’d play “Flying Nun” on the rusty metal puke-o-lator.
Eventually we’d walk the half block to Grandma Wegner’s house, our sweet tooths satisfied, and our willingness to play another round of Chinese Checkers renewed.
Copyright 2025 Lori Olson White
Dad’s favorite Nut Goodie Bars
Not exactly the same as the Pearson brother’s individually wrapped candies, these bars are still iconically Minnesotan, and I remember Mom making them to take along on camping trips when I was growing up. I don’t have her recipe, but this one bakes up close to what I remember.
Ingredients:
2 cups semi-sweet chocolate chips
2 cups milk chocolate chips
2 cups butter
1 cup peanut butter
2 1/2 cups peanuts
1/2 cup evaporated milk
1 4-ounce box of vanilla pudding mix (not instant)
7 1/2 cups powdered sugar
2 teaspoons maple flavoring
Instructions:
Line 15x10x1-inch baking pan with foil. Butter or spray foil with cooking spray. In large saucepan, melt chocolate chips and 1 cup of the butter over low heat, stirring frequently. Remove saucepan from heat. Stir in peanut butter until well blended. Spread half of mixture in pan. Freeze 10 minutes or until set. Place pan in refrigerator.
Meanwhile, stir peanuts into remaining chocolate mixture. Set aside.
Melt remaining 1 cup butter in large saucepan over low heat. Gradually stir in evaporated milk. Stir in pudding mix. Cook until mixture is slightly thickened, stirring constantly. DO NOT BOIL. Remove saucepan from heat. Add powdered sugar and maple flavor; mix well. Cool about 10 minutes or until slightly cooled.
Carefully spread pudding mixture over chilled chocolate layer. Refrigerate 30 minutes.
Stir reserved chocolate-peanut mixture. Drop by spoonfuls onto chilled pudding layer; spread to cover. Refrigerate at least 3 hours or until firm. Cut into bars. Store in refrigerator. 1
Jelly Nougat Candy
Although Grandma usually kept a stock of the Brach’s version of these delicious treats on hand, I do remember helping her hand-wrap a homemade version of them to give away as gifts. This is an updated version — Grandma never did own a microwave, but I can attest to the sweet wonder of these little squares of joy.
Ingredients:
4 tablespoons butter
20 oz mini marshmallows
4 cups white chocolate chips
2 cups gumdrops
Instructions:
In a large microwaveable bowl, add the butter and marshmallow then heat it for a minute, stir then re-heat for another minute.
Stir it again until the butter and marshmallow are well combined.
Add the white chocolate chips and stir, return it to the microwave for 30 seconds, and stir occasionally until the texture becomes smooth and sticky.
Add the gumdrops and mix them until well combined. 2
Your turn and your culinary traditions
What was your favorite candy as a child? Where did you usually get it, and what made it special to you?
Did your family have any special candies that were only enjoyed during holidays? Who made or bought them, and how did they become a tradition?
Is there a particular candy that reminds you of a specific family member? Why?
Did anyone in your family make homemade candy, like fudge, caramels, or divinity? What was the process like, and do you still have the recipe?
Have you ever encountered a candy as an adult that instantly brought back childhood memories? What was the experience like?
Did your family have a connection to a particular type of candy based on your heritage or where you lived? What made it unique?
Are there any candies you loved as a child that are no longer available? What do you miss most about them?
Do you share your childhood candy favorites with your own children, grandchildren, or friends? How do they react, and what does that mean to you?
In case you missed it
If stories at the intersection of food and family history are what you’re looking for, look no further than our archives! Here are a few of our favorites.
Please hit the “like” button if you enjoyed this newsletter — it’s a little thing you can do to support my work!
Culinary History is Family History is reader-supported. When you buy through links on our site, we may earn an affiliate commission.
End Notes:
1 https://www.pillsbury.com/recipes/maple-nut-goodie-bars/
2 https://diyjoy.com/old-fashioned-jelly-nougat-candy-recipe/
Those Brachs Neapolitan Coconut candies take me back to my childhood. My mom was a hall-of-fame candy stasher. My grandmother’s purse kept her from blowing away in a stiff breeze.
What a perfect distillation of the social history of a class of purses in America. I do remember seeing those little basket types with the latch at the top. Sigh.