FAQ

We're at 2740 Pleasant Ave, Minneapolis, MN 55408. Pickup is by appointment — we're a two-person kitchen, so a quick message first means your order will be wrapped and waiting instead of you knocking on a closed door. Kitchen visits between batches are possible; ask when you order.

We ship within the United States. Hard lollipops travel well year-round — they're basically sugar glass. Caramels and ribbon candy are best sent in cooler weather, because a hot mailbox is the one thing we can't protect against. When we confirm your order we'll tell you honestly what's safe to send right now and what would arrive sad.

Unopened and stored cool and dry, our lollipops hold their texture for six to twelve months; the caramels are best within six. Once a bag is open, we'd say a week or two — not because they spoil, but because unusual candy is a "eat the interesting one first" kind of food. Honest note: hand-made candy has no preservatives, so it won't last as long as a factory version. That's the trade-off, and we think it's a good one.

It's deliberate. Part of what we sell is the mystery — especially with The Guessing Game — and batches rotate constantly, so a printed list would be out of date in a week. But food allergies are not a game: if you're ordering for someone with an allergy or a specific diet, email us first and we'll tell you honestly what's in the current batches and what we can't guarantee in our kitchen.

We'll be straight with you: most of our recipes contain dairy-derived butter, and our kitchen handles wheat and soy products, so we cannot guarantee any candy is allergen-free or suitable for specific diets. Some batches happen to be vegan — ask us what's current. We'd rather tell you "no, but here's what we can do" than have you find out the other way.

Each lollipop has a bright, cheerful swirl outside and a hidden ribbon of a different flavor curled through the middle. The secret combination changes with every batch, so a repeat order is never the same experience twice. Tell us your guess after the last swirl — or give up entirely — and we'll tell you what was in there. No scorekeeping, no prize, just a fun conversation.

Because it's made by hand. The spirals are pulled by people, the color borders are painted with a toothpick-sized brush, and the shimmer goes on by eye. Small differences in temperature, humidity, and two people's good days are what make each batch a batch rather than a run. We number every batch in the notebook so we can tell you exactly which one you're eating.

Yes. Custom combinations, gift boxes, wedding favors and event candy are a big part of what we do. Three weeks' notice is the comfortable minimum for a new flavor combination; the current lineup can usually move faster. Tell us the date, the number of people, and one sentence about who it's for — that sentence is genuinely the most useful thing you can send.

We work with a small number of local partners — cafés, boutiques, and a couple of regional gift shops — at batch sizes we can actually make without compromising the handwork. If you run a shop and want to talk, send us a request with your location and roughly what you'd move; we'll tell you honestly if it's a fit.

No cart, no checkout, no online payment — and no payment at all until we've talked. Send us a request with what you'd like and how many. We reply within two business days to confirm what's in the current batches, finalize the box, and arrange pickup or shipping. You pay by email or phone arrangement after that. It's slower than a shopping cart, and it's how a two-person kitchen stays sane.

Candy is a food product, so we can't take back opened boxes. If something arrives damaged in transit, contact us within three days with a photo and we'll make it right — usually with a replacement batch. If the problem is that you simply didn't enjoy a flavor, tell us anyway; it goes in the notebook and it shapes what we make next.

Small batches mean real scarcity. A flavor stays on the menu when people ask for it by name — we keep it that simple. If something you liked is gone, say so: that sentence is exactly how flavors earn a second batch. (We wrote the whole story of this decision in the journal.)