Friday, June 3, 2011

22. Eat a box of Rheb's buttercreams. Not at one sitting, of course ... on the other hand, why not?

I’d go as far as to venture that there are not many things better than chocolate.
A box of chocolate can mean so many wonderful things, like love (on Valentine ’s Day), holiday togetherness (Easter candy, anyone?) to “I’m sorry” (when you’ve REALLY screwed up) or just “I’ve had a really exhausting day and I just wanna be alone with some food and my feelings” (which is the kind of day I have had).
My sister Maureen, who heartily contributed to this week being exceptionally exhausting, apologized to me (“I’m sorry” comes into play…) with a box of Rheb’s assorted chocolate buttercreams. Almost everyone I know who is from Baltimore knows that Rheb’s candy is always a salivatingly delicious, hand-made, chocolately reward for something or another. I snatched the box and decided to forgive her… this time.

Inside the nondescript, white, logo-patterned Rheb’s box was one half of a pound of hand-made buttercream-filled chocolate candies, half milk chocolate and half dark. Maureen must have been really, really sorry to remember that I like some of each. I ate one milk chocolate and one dark chocolate candy and put the box away, hiding it stealthily behind the nice dinner plates on the top shelf of a cabinet.

The story of Rheb’s Candy starts off much like many of the locations I have blogged about: a mom and pop business started many years ago that has slowly become a Baltimore institution. In 1917 newlyweds and self-taught candy makers Lois and Esther Rheb began producing hand-made candies in the basement of their row home at 3352 Wilkens Avenue in Southwest Baltimore. They sold the candies straight out of their basement garage and in the Hollins, Belair and Lexington Markets in the city. As the business grew more and more popular, the Rhebs built a candy store behind their house where it still stands today. Louis’s grandson still owns the store and it remains so popular that most days (especially holidays) there are lines out the door before the store even opens. I have witness all this myself; my grandfather and his mother before him live on that same block, so three generations of my family has been eating Rheb’s Candy since the very beginning.


 
[NOTE: A wise professor has advised me of three specific things to focus on from here on out in my blog: the authenticity, socioeconomic class of those eating and the cultural identity of the delicacy in question.]

Now don’t get me wrong, boxes of chocolate are virtually universal to every neighborhood in the United States. But Rheb’s is special. Outside of Baltimore, Rheb’s candy is not-so-famous; but mention Rheb’s to a resident of Baltimore and they’ll know what it is. The presence of Rheb’s candy in the city in so many accessible and popular locations, as well as the quality of the candy, is the reason this little Cinderella-story candy operation is so well known around these parts. Which brings me to my next point: Rheb’s is popular because it is affordable. Not everyone can order gourmet, hand-made, fancy-pants chocolate off the internet or go to an upscale candy shop. Rheb’s offers delicious, hand-made and fresh candies at a fraction of what one would pay for similar (but less fresh) product. The retail locations have traditionally been in lower-class neighborhoods; Wilkens Ave. is home to primarily blue-collar, working-class families and the Baltimore Markets are all, for the most part, in predominantly black, working-class parts of the city. The “blocks” of Baltimore come to mind: row houses with marble stairs, where residents hang out on the stoop swapping gossip and stories. The ladies at Rheb’s make this scenario even more real, as most of them that work there have worked there forever and have long-standing relationships with many customers, most of whom are regulars.

The look of Rheb’s candy is pretty run of the mill as well. Looking down on the candies, they seem to be nothing special. They’re all well-made looking and appetizing, but there are no special, artistic flourishes nor are they packaged in glitzy, fancy wrappers or boxes. The quality of the candy, though, speaks for itself. Biting into a fresh dark-chocolate vanilla buttercream, I can really taste everything in the title. The milk chocolate is creamy as can be, and the buttercream filling is exceptionally creamy, tasting of whipped butter and vanilla. The dark chocolate is not as sweet, but tastes of pure chocolate which makes one appreciate the light flavor of the buttercream that much more. The candy melts in my mouth (probably because it was made that morning or the night before) before I can even close my eyes and sigh contentedly.
The tradition of Rheb’s Candy in Baltimore embodies the city in a unique and metaphorical way: Baltimore is a working-class city, not too glamorous or overwhelmingly beautiful, not very expensive and not as famous as, say, a fancy big-city like New York. But Baltimore, like Rheb’s candy, is a hidden and surprising jewel, hiding its fresh and delicious secrets (new AND old) inside a plain package.


I went back to my box of candy today to eat some and write this entry but, alas, my family has found it. In a supposed gesture of goodwill, they left me one of each candy. They owe me another box of “I’m sorry.”

References:


Terms:

authenticity: that which is real, or "authentic" in a culture, specific to the culture or original to the culture

socioeconomic class: distinctions between groups in a society based upon their access to resources

cultural identity: identity of a group or individual defined by one's belonging to a specific group

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