Sweet Home Big Flats: The Story of DeMet’s Turtles and Their New York Connection

 

by Karen Meade, CCHS Volunteer

If you're ever passing through Chemung Valley on 1-86 or walking on the Sperr Memorial Park trail and catch a faint, chocolatey sweetness in the air, you'll know where it's coming from. Big Flats candy lovers have a small piece of American confectionery history, the place where a century-old Chicago dream found a new home in upstate New York.

CCHS Collection

There’s a good chance you’ve bitten into a DeMet’s Turtle at some point in your life, that perfect little cluster of crunchy pecans, gooey caramel, and silky chocolate,and never once wondered where it came from. If you live in the Southern Tier of New York, the answer might be closer than you think.

1929, Chicago Historical Society

The story of DeMet’s Turtles begins not in New York, but in Chicago, Illinois, where candy maker George DeMet opened a shop on Madison Street in 1898. It was a classic American confectionery dream: a candy store and soda fountain where George crafted sweets by hand and built a loyal neighborhood following. By 1916, he had struck upon something truly special. It was a cluster of pecans draped in caramel and dipped in chocolate. The shape, with pecan “legs” poking out from the chocolate shell, reminded someone of a little turtle crawling across a marble board. The name stuck, and an American candy icon was born.

The Turtles brand passed through several hands over the decades, eventually landing with Nestlé in 1988, before being acquired in 2007 by Brynwood Partners, a private equity firm that resurrected the dormant DeMet’s Candy Company name and set about building something new.

When the newly reconstituted DeMet’s Candy Company began searching for a U.S. manufacturing home, they cast a wide net across the northeastern states, looking at New York, New Jersey, Pennsylvania, Connecticut, and Massachusetts. What they found in Big Flats, a small community in Chemung County just outside Elmira, checked every box.

DeMet’s selected a 17-acre parcel in the Airport Corporate Park to construct their 100,000-square-foot facility.  The location offered excellent transportation access, a strong regional labor pool, and critically, was part of New York State’s Empire Zone incentive program. This gave DeMet’s the competitive edge it needed to choose the Southern Tier over other states. To date, the project has created 250 new jobs for the region. This has been a meaningful boost for a community that, like many in upstate New York, had weathered its share of economic headwinds.

 While the iconic original Turtles clusters are primarily produced at DeMet’s facility in Scarborough, Ontario, the Big Flats plant soon became a hub for the company’s broader confectionery portfolio, including Flipz chocolate-covered pretzels and other snack products that DeMet’s brought under its umbrella after Brynwood Partners consolidated several candy brands.

 

CCHS Collection

It’s worth pausing to appreciate just how enduring the Turtles formula really is. It consists of only three ingredients: crunchy pecans, creamy caramel, and a chocolate shell. This formula has kept candy lovers coming back for more than 100 years.  Just a simple, honest combination that George DeMet figured out more than a century ago on a marble board in Chicago.

 Today, DeMet’s is owned by Yıldız Holding, the Turkish conglomerate that also owns Godiva, and the brand sells tens of millions of units annually. But the soul of the product remains the same — and part of that soul, for the better part of two decades now, has been rooted in the quiet, hardworking community of Big Flats, New York, a local sweet spot

 

DIY Newspaper Jigsaw Puzzles

by Erin Doane, Senior Curator

I love jigsaw puzzles and I love happening upon random interesting things in historic newspapers. A recent find brought both these loves crashing together. From February 6 to 17, 1933, the Star-Gazette ran daily jigsaw puzzles in its pages. The idea was that readers would paste the puzzle to a piece of cardboard, cut out the scrambled pieces, then put them together again. It was a fun, low-cost, diy activity - perfect for those suffering through the Great Depression - and it drew on the jigsaw puzzling craze that was sweeping the nation.

“Not Animal Crackers, It’s a Jigsaw Puzzle,” Star-Gazette, February 10, 1933

The craze seems to have begun in June 1932 when the Pro-Phy-Lac-Tic Brush Company of Florence, Massachusetts offered a free 50-piece jigsaw puzzle with the purchase of one of their toothbrushes. The promotion was such a huge success that other companies followed suit. Cardboard jigsaw puzzles quickly became the hot-to-go item for those looking for inexpensive entertainment. By early 1933, people of all walks of life had been swept up in the craze. Searching though the February Star-Gazette of that year shows that jigsaw puzzles were very popular locally. Clubs and organizations were putting together puzzles at their social meetings and individuals included them at their card parties. Stores like Izsard’s, Rubin Bros., and S.S. Kresge Co. carried full lines of jigsaw puzzles and sold them for as little as $0.25 each (about $6.25 today).

The Star-Gazette also reported on jigsaw puzzle news from further afield. On February 8, it reported that burglars broke into the store of Mrs. Catherine W. Garrahan in Watervliet, New York and stole 10 jigsaw puzzles among other items. On February 11, the newspaper shared the story of the first ever reported jigsawing injury. Mrs. Abbie Burns of Norristown, Pennsylvania was holding her 9-month-old baby while working on a puzzle when the baby jabbed her in the eye with one of the pieces. Physicians said the injury was not serious. In business news, it reported on the five-story factory in Long Island City that produced jigsaw puzzles day and night and the St. Paul puzzle manufacturer that experienced an 85 percent increase in business in one week when the jigsaw craze hit.

“See Who He is by the Jigsaw Method!,” Star-Gazette, February 6, 1933

It's not surprising at all that the Star-Gazette itself wanted to get in on the craze. On Monday, February 6, 1933, it ran its first jigsaw puzzle. It was a cut-up photograph of “a prominent Elmiran.” The caption declared, “This one’s easy to initiate you to the craze.” It also promised the man’s name would be printed with the next puzzle. So, it was sort of a twofer puzzle – put together the jigsaw, then guess who or what was shown in the picture. Most of the puzzles showed local people and places including Elmira College President Dr. Frederick Lent, Elmira Patrolman Edward P. Carroll, Fitch’s Bridge, a fire at St. Anthony’s Church, and the Elmira Reformatory. The first published puzzle showed Elmira Police Chief Elvin D. Edwin.

Star-Gazette jigsaw puzzle from February 6, 1933, printed on plain paper and put together.

The newspaper’s puzzle the next day offered an additional challenge. “Five minutes is the limit for putting together this jigsaw puzzle of a leading Elmira educator.” How quickly a person could put the puzzle together became a common theme. The puzzle on February 13 was titled “Time Yourself on This Cutout Puzzle” so I did. “It took the photographer half an hour to change a perfectly good picture into the picture you see herewith,” the caption states. It took me 13 minutes to cut it out (plain paper not glued to cardboard) and 5 minutes to put it together.

“Time Yourself on This Cutout Puzzle,” Star-Gazette, February 13, 1933

February 13 jigsaw puzzle put together showing the lobby of the Second National Bank in Elmira after a fire.

The first few puzzles were cut into geometric pieces. The February 10 jigsaw puzzle (shown at the top of this post) was the first to be cut into pieces that more closely resemble the puzzle pieces we know today. Perhaps this was done in reaction to reader feedback. “Its interlocking parts will remain where you place them,” according to the caption. I had to use tape to hold my puzzle pieces together, but mine were on plain paper not glued to cardboard.

February 10 jigsaw puzzle put together showing Elmirans at the Orange County races.

The final puzzle in the series was published on February 17, 1933. It was a return to geometric pieces – all triangles in this case. I don’t think it was intended to be the last puzzle as no answer as to what the picture showed was provided. Of course, I had to put it together and find out. It’s described as “a thing of beauty” in the caption. It is a lovely picture of a house, but I have no idea where it is or why it’s significant. So, the 1933 Star-Gazette jigsaw puzzle series ended on a mystery.

“You Working These Cut-Out Puzzles?,” Star-Gazette, February 17, 1933

February 17 jigsaw puzzle put together.

But wait, there’s more! Five days after that last puzzle was published, the Star-Gazette printed one more “Puzzle for the Holiday” (i.e. Washington’s Birthday). The solution to the jigsaw puzzle was also included several pages later making it clear that this was a stand-alone and not part of the previous series.

“Here’s Cutout Puzzle for the Holiday,” Star-Gazette, February 22, 1933

“Here’s the Cut-Out Properly Assembled,” Star-Gazette, February 22

For two weeks in February 1933, the Elmira Star-Gazette fully embraced the jigsaw puzzle craze and then it abruptly stopped. At least we still have the newspapers so we can enjoy the historic diy puzzles. If you’d like to try them yourself, click here for a pdf of all the puzzles. I didn’t include pictures of the solutions, so you’ll just have to figure them out for yourself. A stopwatch is optional.