Necco Wafers, Taste of Childhood And Chalk, Near the Final Crunch

Published by The Wall Street Journal, April 9th 2018

By John Clarke

Necco wafers have been around since before the Civil War—and plenty of detractors would argue they taste like it, too.

The flavors have been described as “tropical drywall,” “plaster surprise,” and “attic citrus.” One Twitter commentator calls it a candy that “only a psychopath would like.”

And yet, like anything appreciated only after it is gone, Neccos are suddenly having a moment. Last month, the New England Confectionery Co.—creators of the iconic wafer since 1847 and the oldest continually operated candy maker in the U.S.—served notice to its hometown of Revere, Mass., that it would close operations in May if it didn’t find a new owner.

Consumers and sellers are starting to stockpile and hoard whatever Necco candy they can get, including Mary Janes, Clark Bars, Squirrel Nut Zippers, and Sweethearts, the heart-shaped pressed-sugar Valentine’s Day candy bearing romantic messages including “Kiss Me” and “Be Mine.”

Jon Prince, president of wholesaler CandyFavorites.com in McKeesport, Pa., fielded hundreds of hectic calls over a recent weekend, with some buyers pleading to purchase his entire inventory of Necco wafers.

“They’re shocked and scared,” he says. “They’re not happy about it.”

The original recipe hasn’t changed, according to the company. It is a mix of sugar, corn syrup, gelatins, gums, colorings and flavorings that include chocolate, licorice, cinnamon, lemon, lime, orange, wintergreen and clove. Eight wafers to a roll. The company produces about four billion each year.

With a suspiciously long shelf life, the nearly indestructible Necco wafers were used by Union soldiers during the Civil War and American GIs in World War II.

In 1913, Arctic explorer Donald MacMillan took the endurable wafers for nutrition and to hand out to Inuit children, according to the company. They proved so suitable to the climate that Admiral Richard Byrd took 2.5 tons of them on his two-year exploration of the South Pole in the 1930s.

People have a complicated relationship with the Necco wafer. It’s a nostalgic candy people love to hate, which brings back happy childhood memories of a chalky crunch. Many Catholics remember using the candy as pretend Communion wafers. Handing out Necco wafers to kids on Halloween almost guaranteed a return visit involving eggs and toilet paper.

For years, automobile drivers would flip the quarter-sized wafers into the basket at toll booths to avoid the fare—and perhaps to avoid eating them.

Yet they are in high demand now. Mr. Prince, the candy wholesaler, initially limited customers to two boxes per order, but stocked up and increased the limit to four.

Since the news spread, customers of Economy Candy in New York have been in disbelief. There has been an increase in sales both in the store and online, says owner Mitchell Cohen. Customers who normally buy one or two Necco rolls are now buying the whole box or a case “to stash away,” he says.

Candy Store, the online bulk store based in Los Angeles, has noted an uptick in sales, and the store has been stocking up to meet demand, according to spokeswoman Clair Robins. Since the news broke, Necco products sales are up 50%.

Ms. Robins agreed people have a complicated relationship with Necco wafers, “but the sales numbers don’t lie—people are rushing to stockpile them like they’re the next cryptocurrency.”

One CandyStore customer asked to barter for the company’s entire stock of wafers, offering to trade a black 2003 Honda Accord with 150,000 miles. “Pleeease say yes.” The offer was rejected, and they ended up buying two boxes with a Visa card.

The Necco supply chain extends to crafts, where gingerbread-house builders may be forced to seek new roofing and siding materials for their candy-covered homes. Robin Albert, who runs the Portsmouth Historical Society’s Annual Gingerbread House Contest in Portsmouth, N.H., said some craft makers will be disappointed. The wafers, she says, really added some “pizazz.”

Pete Behringer of Pete’s Candy, who makes and sells candy in a converted 22,000-square-foot mansion in downtown Jacksonville, Fla., just found out the news.

The Necco wafer has always been his top-selling retro candy and has a devoted cult following willing to travel miles to get them, he says. “We just got cleaned out. I need to go order more—if I still can.”

A group of sixth-grade Oregon students wrote letters to Revere Mayor Brian Arrigo in support of Necco wafers and Sweethearts. “If NECCO goes out of business our class will be devastated,” read one letter suggesting launching a social-media campaign with the hashtag #SaveNecco.

Mr. Arrigo says he is disheartened over the potential loss of the iconic candy, but wasn’t surprised about the national surge in demand. “Who knows, Necco wafers might make a comeback the way Twinkies did a few years ago,” he says.