Sweet Grenadine

The Sweet Granada (the word translates directly to "pomegranate", but refers more broadly to a city and region in southern Spain, or in the case of what follows, an adjacent Spanish Revival-style theatre named the "Granada") in Emporia, Kansas, was recently named America's second-best candy shop by USA Today. The Chamber of Commerce in Emporia is not demanding a recount, although they are puzzled by the outcome, given that, in the weeks leading up to the announcement, Sweet Granada (although its official name is "The Sweet Granada", sticking with this formality immediately brings up (for me, at least) unintended resonance with Atom Egoyan's decidedly non-upbeat film "The Sweet Hereafter", so the article is not an absolute henceforth) was constantly, solidly in first place on the leaderboard, updated daily, then found themselves playing second fiddle when a winner was announced following a dark period of seven days when no rankings were published.

As it stands, Emporia shares 2024 as one of the top two candy shop in the nation with Estes Park, and Sweet Granada finds itself the silver medalist, as it were, in a world where (as Jerry Seinfeld noted) the silver medalist is the worst possible outcome, best among the losers. No loser in the entire country finished ahead of Sweet Granada. Worse, they are not going to inherit the crown if Estes Park's Taffy Shop somehow can't fulfill its Miss American obligations. Again, this is all a trifle, candy shops are not cancer hospitals, so who really cares whether the results were legimate or the results of ballot-box stuffing or a last-minute Estes Park LMD proposal for a big advertising campaign slotted for Gannett newspapers like USA Today? It's great publicity that both communities are already capitalizing on, so why worry over sour grapes when there are gaping mouths out there to stuff with sugar? Here are the Sweet Granada particulars: The family-run business opened in 2004 (so we got em by age) a few blocks from Emporia State University (the former Kansas Normal), they have a big billboard on I-35 driving into Emporia from Kansas City, they recently opened a branch location "on the other side of the Missouri River" (this according to their smiling staff, as if the import of this geographic distinction meant anything to me), and their candy is really, really good. For Estes Park readers, think of a more intimate, more upscale "Laura's", with fresh-baked cookies, gelato, truffles, fudge, and a wrapped bar called the "Granada Goo", which resembles a peanut-butter Rice Krispies on steroids. Is their product line more diverse, or their immersive experience more memorable than any of five candy shops I can immediately conjur up along the Las Vegas Strip, one of which, the Cookie Shot, is run by a robot? Probably not, but the USA Today criteria overtly included independently operated stores, and (unstated) was always going to include locations sprinkled across the U.S., even in the heartland, to broaden readership and quiet claims of East or West Coast bias. So what you are celebrating by including The Sweet Granada among the Best Ten is the fact that a place like this even exists in the wheat belt, families with energy and a dream and interior decorating skills don't always migrate to SoHo, George Bailey stuck around Bedford Falls to run the family bank, etc. Similar to the Taffy Shop, which wonderfully, incredulously, now finds itself feted as the top independent candy shop in the U.S.A., little ole Estes Park, Colorado, stated population 6000 (winter population half that), home to the best of the absolute best. I didn't vote, ashamed to say, but I don't vote for American Idol or MLB All-Stars or the local Chamber's Coolest Dog competition or bother much over US News & World Report's College Rankings. They all seem fraught with backdoor manipulation and assembly line ways to game the system, similar to those big-haired bombshells from Venezuela or Columbia always winning Miss Universe. Don't get me wrong - It is an amazing honor, and a testament to thrice-married Greeley, Colorado (via Spokane and Muncie, Indiana), confectioner Reuben Lowell Slack's belief/confusion that Depression-era Estes Park somehow shared features of Atlantic City and their saltwater taffy when he arrived four years into his first marriage in 1935, with Mark Igel and family seamlessly taking the reins when the last surviving Slack widow retired in 2014. Outsiders who know nothing of the Taffy Shop's history or its liquid fire neon sign, compelled to visit for the first time ("it's on the list, Dad") based on this honor will dismissively say, "It's just taffy" and, indeed, it's just taffy, no matter how many old favorites you stock or exotic new flavors you create or memories you pack into the wrapper. But at least there is some Colorado pioneer history of taffy pulls (think of Abner Sprague spilling all the makings on the floor at a birthday party), even if the mechanical contraption in the window is just for show, and isn't pulling actual, edible taffy. Besides, someone had to win, and there will always be detractors who spring up and say the Yanks or Celts didn't deserve it no matter who gets picked. We haven't even finished litigating the 2020 election yet, and the 2024 ballots are a few months in the mail. Kansas City on both sides of the Missouri has 3 of the last 5 Super Bowls anyhow, so maybe Colorado deserved at least this. Rather than wade into the debate over who is really best, let's let Emporia and Estes Park, separate by 600 miles but bridged by famed newspaper editor William Allen White (home and business in Emporia, summer home in Moraine Park), cross-promote the hell out of this, stock The Sweet Granada with all the Taffy Shop salted caramel taffy (https://originaltaffyshop.com/buy-online.php) they can hold, and ship a ton of salted caramel macarons (https://sweetgranada.com/collections/macarons-1, in any event, something that won't melt) Colorado-ward when they get back in stock. If their respective products aren't already on Goldbelly, now is the time to strike. Consider these gems, offered up for free, as retribution for not being a big believer in "Best of" lists. Red state/blue state or red/black on the wheel, sometimes, amazingly, regardless of how it's balanced or spun or controlled, the ball nestles into something beyond double zero, and for one shining moment, someone gets to say, with some conviction, "This is the best thing that ever happened to us."