Exploring the joy of jelly beans

This has been a week of discoveries at the Wight House. The most

improbable of which has been that the entire family can rally around

something as simple as a jelly bean.

Discoveries of greater magnitude exist, no doubt. But none have

been as humorous or as unexpected as the world of “the original

gourmet jelly bean.” And since an amazing amount of bean trivia has

filled my brain, I feel obligated to share the nuances of the Jelly

Belly world with you.

First of all, if you ever find yourself in Fairfield, I’m sorry.

Fairfield is somewhere between San Francisco and Sacramento -- about

20 minutes from a pool in Vallejo that you never want to visit. But

if you are near this epicenter of confection, the Jelly Belly factory

is a must.

Don’t laugh. What the water polo team and I expected was kitsch,

but we got a very impressive tour through a very professional

facility. The factory was a multifaceted operation, complete with the

requisite gift store (which had everything from A to Z), an in-house

restaurant with a menu that includes jelly bean-shaped hamburgers,

pizzas, sandwiches (which were very tasty) ... and of course, candy

galore.

As we drove into the massive parking lot, we entered a world that

exceeded our expectations. The factory is immense, immaculate and

imaginative. Our group waited in line for the tour (they take groups

of 50 people every 10 minutes) surrounded by Jelly Belly artwork,

which included portraits of Ronald Reagan (who put Jelly Belly on the

map), Elvis, the Statue of Liberty, George Washington and the Pope.

There is a collection of these likenesses that tours the world.

Currently, the traveling collection is in Germany, but the factory

retains 30 permanent pieces of “Jelly Belly Art.”

Jelly Belly jelly beans were invented in 1976. In 1980, when Time

magazine reported that presidential candidate Ronald Reagan was a fan

of this breed of jelly bean, a new generation of candy consumers was

created.

Jelly Bellys began to make history. They were carried into outer

space on the space shuttle Challenger, they were on Air Force One and

in the Oval Office in the Reagan Administration (his favorite flavor

is coconut), and they were gifts to international diplomats.

During our 45-minute tour, we learned that this year’s favorite

flavor is watermelon, last year’s favorite was buttered popcorn and

the all-time favorite is cherry.

We watched beans being made at every step of the manufacturing

process.

Jelly Bellys are the only bean to have a flavored center. They are

then coated with three coats of piquancy, a shiny sugar coating, and

then polished before they stamp “Jelly Belly” on every bean.

Beans that do not make the cut are called “belly flops.” They are

beans that have fallen short of perfect.

Whether the name brand has smeared, two have stuck together or the

wrong color coating has been applied, belly flops are packaged and

sold in the gift store for $5 for a two-pound package, a significant

savings from retail prices.

Even the bargains have bargains; buy two two-pound packages and

you get the

third bag “free.” That means you

can walk away with six pounds of jelly beans for $10. We

bought six. Everyone in

our group bought at least as much.

In addition to the “bargains” and the vats of individual flavors,

the gift store has plenty of Jelly Belly attire. Lest you think that

this is a tacky endeavor, let me tell you that

my oldest daughter did her back-to-school shopping at

the gift store. No comments, please.

In addition to “normal” flavors like buttered toast, margarita and

cappuccino, Jelly Belly has capitalized on the Harry Potter

phenomenon. In the famous J. K. Rowling series, Hogwarts students

enjoy “Bertie Bott’s Every Flavor Beans.” The fictional flavors

include obscure selections such as sardine, horseradish, grass,

earwax, booger and ... vomit. And, yes, they have come to life and

you can buy them at the Jelly Belly factory.

This assortment has been a great source of amusement and

conversation. We presented a box to the coach.

The factory is currently in high gear for Christmas; they make the

products months in advance. We watched production of red, green and

white beans, wrapped in poinsettia-printed packaging.

After the 45-minute tour and an expensive stop at the Candyland

store, we had a choice: visit the Jelly Belly Java Bar, the Jelly

Belly Ice Cream Bar or dine in the Jelly Belly Cafe. We opted for the

Cafe, and as funky as a Jelly Bean-shaped hamburger and pizza sounds,

it was actually a good lunch experience.

Not only did we kill a couple hours of down time; the entire

family, team and group of parents (which they might not admit) had a

good time. Sugarcoated fun.

I’m reluctant to report that the Jelly Belly Visitor Center was a

sweet experience. Not only for the product, but also for the

affirmation that simple pleasures are the best.

* KAREN WIGHT is a Newport Beach resident. Her column runs

Sundays.