🐣 Peeps: A Backroom Marshmallow Mystery | 26

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If you were a holiday, Jack, the holiday I think you would most identify with is Labor Day.

Going with Labor Day.

I'm intrigued.

Why do you say this, Nan?

Jack, I know you appreciate a short bathing suit to wear.

I know you're proud of your thighs.

I know you want to show those things off.

You can do that on a Labor Day beach.

So you're just thinking about like the seasonality of Labor Day.

Yeah, yeah, kind of.

Not the meaning of like valuing work.

No, I'm talking superficially, Jack.

You appreciate Tommy Bahamas.

I think you have like three of the umbrellas.

I have four of the chairs.

Right?

You like to bring people together at the beach.

You're handing out coladas to everyone.

I actually bring sliced limes for the coronas to make the beach experience that much better.

Jack, as a holiday, you are joy, you are summer, you are happiness, you are a labor day.

I am so flattered with that labeling.

I gotta say, I didn't put a ton of thought into your holiday.

That's very labor day of you because, you know, it's kind of like you're taking a vacation from doing too much thinking over Labor Day.

Yeah.

All right.

What holiday do you identify with?

Thanksgiving Eve.

I really like to associate with Thanksgiving Eve.

Does that mean you like going out to the bars until midnight with all your high school buddies?

Well, you know, anticipation is often more fun than the event.

And with Thanksgiving, it really is about getting people together before you have to do the real Thanksgiving, right?

So, Jack, I identify most with Thanksgiving Eve, you identify most with Labor Day, but it's not just people who associate with holidays.

If you think about it, there are products associated with very particular holiday events.

I'm thinking of one product in particular because we're talking in this episode about a candy most often associated with Easter or the microwave.

We're talking about peeps.

Wow, thank you, Destiny's child, for that one.

Then tell the people, are you pro-peep or anti-peep?

Well, Jack, as a podcast host, you know we've got to drive strong opinions on this show, right?

Yeah, you either love it or you hate them.

So for the sake of the comment section, I am pro

peep.

Nick, I'll be honest, I've never eaten one.

Oh.

Like, they are that intimidating to me.

Peeps are a surprisingly polarizing product, not just around the way they taste, but around who invented them in the first place.

There is a mystery at the heart of this squishy marshmallow story, because the heart of this who done it lies in the secret back room of a candy company in Pennsylvania, Dutch country.

Secret back room?

Sounds a little ominous, but don't worry, it's not hiding anything sinister.

It is the source of the original hand-sculpted marshmallow chicks, complete with tiny wings and sugar coating.

These chicks were so elegant, they took 27 hours to create a single batch.

But Jack, 27 isn't the number that caught our eye, is it?

The number that grabbed our attention is 1.5 billion.

That's the number of peeps eaten worldwide just on Easter.

Every brand is competing to grab your attention during Christmas and Thanksgiving.

But for Easter, you got peeps, you got Cadbury's, and that is it.

This is a story about how peeps transformed a simple family business into one of the largest manufacturers of marshmallows in the world.

And how a product people love to hate is the ultimate case study in collabs, pairing with surprises like Oreo, Dr.

Pepper, and katy perry all right let's crack this sticky story open next you're gonna need a dentist after this one because peeps is the best idea yet

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Have you ever walked down a street and suddenly just been hit with the smell of sshm?

delicious food.

I love that.

Like growing up going past Levan Bakery on the Upper West Side at like 4 a.m.

on on the way to hockey practice, they'd be mixing the dough with the chocolate chips.

It would like hit you in the face.

It was wonderful.

You know, for me, Nick, Subway Sandwiches doesn't get a lot of love.

But I'll tell you, the smell of their freshly baked bread, I absolutely love that smell.

Well, in the 1920s, the sweetest smelling avenue in the world is Church Street of Lancaster, Pennsylvania.

This street, it's actually home to the Lancaster Caramel Company, sending wafts of fresh butter and cream mingled with boiling sugar.

The company, it was actually founded by Mr.

Chocolate himself, Milton Hershey.

You may remember Milton from our Reese's episode.

We talked about how he got his start in Pennsylvania making caramels with milk from Amish farms.

That's because Lancaster is smack in the middle of Pennsylvania Dutch country.

The Pennsylvania Dutch, by the way, shouldn't be called Dutch at all.

No, because they are actually ethnic Germans who have settled in Lancaster County for over 200 years, but whatever you call them.

Their neighbors are now big candy makers like Milton Hershey.

But the Hershey's factory isn't the only candy game in town.

There's another caramel company on the very same street as Hershey's, the Rada Candy Company.

And right now, Rada is in the fight of their lives.

The Radha Candy Company was founded by Roscoe E.

Radha, born in Michigan, the son of a copper miner.

Now, miners aren't exactly known for their longevity.

It's a dangerous line of work crushing rocks underground.

So, Roscoe, he chooses a profession that seems a little less grueling, making candy above ground.

Roscoe apprentices with some chocolatiers in Detroit, but he's successful enough that eventually he migrates east and starts his own sweets business on Church Street, right in Lancaster.

But early on, he finds himself number two to the big guy in town, Hershey.

After all, there's successful and then there's, I named a town after myself, successful.

Hershey, Pennsylvania, still a thing today.

So instead, Roscoe decides to make a different play.

If Roscoe can't dethrone Hershey as the king of chocolate, maybe instead he can be the Earl of Easter.

Now, we mentioned the Pennsylvania Dutch earlier living nearby, these candy companies.

These folks are very observant Christians.

For them, the highest holy day isn't Christmas, it's Easter.

Yeah, they're like Santa who?

Well, Roscoe Rada looks at the community around him as potential customers and smells an opportunity to corner a specific market.

Candy makers, including Roscoe, they've actually been making Easter candies for years, but Roscoe decides to lean way, way into the Easter holiday.

He wants to tailor his products not just to Christians, but specifically his German-descended Easter-loving Christian neighbors.

Roscoe actually starts crafting candies shaped like Germanic Easter symbols, ones that evoke spring, renewal, rebirth from the old country.

Bunnies, eggs, and chicks.

Turns out we can actually thank German immigrants for the Easter bunnies' existence.

It's part of a German legend about a hare called the Osterhaze who lays colored eggs in the grass.

As for the boiling and decorating of eggs for the springtime, that tradition predates Christianity itself.

Egg painting was originally a pagan tradition around the spring equinox.

So these traditions are millennia old and they've been merged between paganism and Christianity to create the Easter bunny in 19th century central Pennsylvania.

So if you're wondering what Easter eggs had to do with Jesus, you're right to think nothing.

But hang on here.

There's a tradition that goes back even further than the pagans.

Two words, marshmallow.

Marshmallow is a real plant that grows in salt marshes and on riverbanks.

Ancient Egyptians would use the sap from its roots to make candy and to soothe sore throats.

Basically, this herb was the OG Ricole.

And this same extract was used centuries later in France to make candy.

the very first marshmallow candy, as we know it, in the mid-1800s.

But by the early 1900s, candy makers have mostly phased out the plant itself, and instead, they're using its flavor just as inspiration.

The days of marshmallow being made of marshmallow are sadly over.

So, when Roscoe Rada starts stepping up his Easter candy production, he's not wading through the wetlands in his high boons to forge for this mallow root.

Instead, he's making marshmallow eggs of sugar, gelatin, and chemical flavoring.

He's also making cocoa bunnies, chocolates in the shape of a cross, oh, and one more Easter time candy that will really put rada candy on the map.

It's time to introduce the beeps.

No, it's not, Jack.

Actually,

it's jelly beans.

Like the small, round, choking hazard candies with a firm gelatin inside and a crunchy sugar exterior.

So the pagans and Christians created the Easter bunny and the Easter eggs, but American capitalism brought us Easter jelly beans.

We should sprinkle on a little more context, Jack.

Roscoe Rada invents the jelly bean in the same way that like Thomas Edison invents the the light bulb.

As in, he didn't invent it.

Yeah, yeah, not technically.

He's the guy who perfects the product and makes it really, really popular.

In 1920, he self-proclaims that his company is the Jelly Bean House of America in print ads.

I'm looking at one of these early pictures of jelly beans, and they definitely do look like little candy beans, or if you squint, like really small eggs.

Kind of perfect for Easter.

And Rada, the foremost Easter marketer, starts calling them jelly eggs.

Jelly eggs.

You know, for Easter.

Basically, this is a hyper-specialized seasonality strategy.

He's targeting this highly niche German-descended Easter-loving Christians of Western Pennsylvania because he wants to get strong engagement from one community.

He prefers that to mediocre engagement from many communities.

Right.

So Roscoe Radha is putting all his jelly eggs into one Easter basket.

Let Hershey have all the other holidays.

Easter will belong to Radha.

This is a risky move for reasons we're going to talk about in a bit, but in Rada's case, it works.

Jelly beans put Rada on the map in a big way.

This is a unique killer product with all the markers of a classic.

And that's still true 16 years later in 1941 when Roscoe Rada dies at the age of 79.

But once Roscoe dies, sadly, the Rada family, they don't want to continue on with the business.

They want out.

And thanks to their Easter jelly beans, they actually have a valuable asset to attract potential buyers.

Ironically, the man who ends up up buying Rada doesn't celebrate Easter at all.

He celebrates Passover because he's a Ukrainian Jewish immigrant with a serendipitous name, Bourne.

Sam Bourne.

Sam Bourne's company, Just Born, is actually a pun.

It's named for its founder and his favorite advertising method.

When Sam was getting started in the candy business, he put freshly made chocolates in his shop window with a sign that reads, Just Born, referring to how how fresh these sweets are.

This guy was born in Ukraine over 100 years ago, but he moves with his family to France as a teenager, the way a lot of Jewish families moved out of Russia in the early 1900s.

And it is there that Sam learned candy making from French chocolatiers, which gave him a very particular set of skills once he moved to the United States in 1910.

Now, immediately, he starts making his mark as a chocolate innovator.

Sam Bourne is the second coming of Hershey.

Sam designs a machine to put sticks into lollipops.

He invents chocolate sprinkles.

He even creates the proprietary coating around Edie's pies, formerly known as Eskimo pies.

And this sugar-coated body of work is so impressive that Sam actually wins the key to the city of San Francisco.

So in 1923, Sam takes his talents eastward to Brooklyn to open up his own shop.

Now, Besties, we told you that in the 1920s, Pennsylvania's Lancaster Valley was was a hotbed of chocolate tiering.

So was Brooklyn, New York at the time.

There was an entire chocolate making district stretching from the Navy Yard to South Williamsburg to Long Island City.

Yeah, if you walk over to the East River, the Domino Sugar Refinery, now an apartment complex, was there for that reason.

When Sam set up shop in North Brooklyn's chocolate district in the 1920s, it was like moving to the Bay Area in the 1990s or early 2000s.

This was the Silicon Valley of sweets.

Sam is at the center of industry innovation.

In fact, Sam is personally credited with introducing New York City to French chocolate making techniques.

But something interesting happens to Sam when the stock market crashes just a few years into his career.

You'd think business for non-essentials like candy would tank, but Justborn thrives anyway.

Sales for small chocolate indulgences actually go up during the Great Depression because they are affordable splurges.

Justborn's candies do so well during the Depression, they need a bigger facility and to hire more workers.

So in 1932, when almost a quarter of Americans were unemployed, Justborn moves to the fading industrial town of Bethlehem, Pennsylvania.

It takes over an old print factory and recruits steel workers who've been laid off.

What a moment.

The company keeps growing and they start acquiring other candy companies, which help them come out with new products even faster.

In 1940, Justborn invents Mike and Ike's, a classic movie snack.

Then in 1950, Justborne invents hot tamales, a more mediocre movie snack.

They're kind of like Tabasco-flavored Tootsie Rolls.

I've never tasted a hot tamale because I don't get it.

Why would I want something that's sugary and spicy?

You'll be fine.

Now, hot tamales are actually the invention of Sam Bourne's son, Bob Bourne.

More on him in a minute.

Just know that when it's time to look for Justborne's next acquisition, it's Bob who leads the charge.

All the way to the doorstep of Radha Candy Company in nearby Lancaster, Pennsylvania.

Remember, Roscoe Rada, he passed away and his family, they want to sell the entire business.

And Radha's headquarters, it's just over 75 miles away from Justborn's factory in Bethlehem.

So that's kind of the perfect choice, a complimentary confectionery fit.

So Justborne just buys them.

But this sale is going to lead to an unbelievable secret backroom discovery that will change the face of candy forever and introduce the world to to the first ever little marshmallow chick.

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You destroyed our town.

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We call things accidents.

There is no accident.

This was 100%

preventable.

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Imagine yourself in the shoes of Bob Bourne.

It's 1952.

You're a Navy veteran with a degree in engineering who served in World War II.

Now, you're working with your dad, Sam Bourne, the legend, at the company he started 30 years earlier.

And you've just invested a chunk of change in acquiring a jelly bean company.

This This jelly bean company, the Radha Candy Company, of course, makes more than just jelly beans.

But the jelly bean tech is really what you're after.

It's Radha's ultimate proprietary asset, their secret sauce.

And since Rada's founder, Roscoe Radha, passed away, his family, they've been eager to sell.

So you buy the company.

Time to inspect your new property.

You stride confidently into Radha's Lancaster facilities, breathing in wafts of melting chocolate and spun sugar.

Walking around the vast factory, you check out the equipment.

The nozzles depositing sugar and gelatin into their little molds, the conveyor belts carrying trays of tiny jelly beans along the journey.

The machinery clanks and whirs, but you don't hear any gears grabbing.

Everything seems clean and up to code.

But then you notice a door toward the back of the warehouse space.

What is behind that door, you wonder?

Once inside, you almost can't believe your eyes.

A wildly different kind kind of production, like you've stepped 50 years back in time.

No tidy rows of automated components, but crowded rows of women, 70 or 80 of them at once, all stooped over long tables, squeezing pastry bags by hand.

Their forearm muscles strain as they push fat squiggles of marshmallow and uncooked egg whites onto trays in the shape of baby chicks with little individually sculpted wings.

And when the chicks are finally set, the women patiently dust them with sugar, add little black eyes made of wax, and leave them to dry.

Bright colors, puffy wings, awkwardly blotted eyeballs.

They are not called this yet, but we would recognize them immediately as peeps.

How long do they have to sit like that?

You ask a worker.

How much time does this take?

The woman squints at you.

She speaks German, like most of the immigrant workers here, but there's no mistaking her answer.

27 hours.

bob is blown away by this rada this company he just acquired they've been mass manufacturing candy since the 19 teens so why are these women making marshmallow chicks by hand in some secret back room it just does not make sense until he learns the story So it turns out these chicks are sort of an off-the-menu item.

Unavailable in Radha's mail order catalog.

You can only get them for a limited time at Radha's physical physical candy shop.

We're talking limited edition, once-a-year items sold to loyal customers only.

If you know, you know.

They're basically the McRib of candy.

But some customers don't eat them at all.

They're using these poultry-shaped mini marshmallow sculptures to decorate with at Easter, like ornaments.

You did mention earlier they were made with uncooked egg whites, like maybe not eating them is actually a pretty good thing.

Whatever they're for, Bob Bourne looks at these chicks and he sees commercial appeal.

He's going with his gut on this, but if you've you've got enough experience in an industry, we believe a gut is just as good as data.

He even knows what he will call them.

Peeps.

But Bob knows there's one massive problem here.

You can't build a business based on a bite-sized treat that takes 27 hours to make by hand.

So Bob gets to work solving the puzzle of mass producing these peeps, which he hopes will shrink down that production timeline.

First, he's going to update the peeps recipe.

Ditch the raw raw egg whites and the risk of food poisoning.

The new peeps, they're going to be made with just five things.

Sugar, corn syrup, gelatin, air, and food coloring.

Oh, and according to the Just Born company, love.

I love that.

Next up, build the right machinery.

And here, Bob's scientific expertise comes into play.

Now, we mentioned Bob has an engineering degree.

He actually loves building and he loves inventing.

And so for the next nine months, Bob basically just tinkers and ponders and draws up some blueprints for an entirely new machine just for these marshmallows.

The pressure is on because Bob is in a race against time.

Easter is right around the corner.

If he misses the Easter sales window, it'll be a whole year before peeps are in season again.

But Bob keeps his cool and at the end of nine months his invention is ready.

It's a huge, hulking, automatic machine for mass producing peeps.

He calls it the Depositor.

It sounds like a direct-to-Netflix movie with Jason Statham, but still, love that he branded it.

The Depositor may be bulky, but this thing moves fast.

It cuts the time it takes to manufacture peeps from 27 hours to six minutes.

That's a 99% drop.

We should point out this new process is not without trial and error.

Bob says the first batches of peeps look more like seals than chicks.

Hey, that's a problem because, like, coastal maritime mammals, that's not going to be a commercial hit at Easter.

But Justborn is able to produce these peeps in time for the 1953 Easter season.

The color, by the way, they go all natural, yellow or white.

Okay, very authentic, very real life.

And they're packaged under the Rada brand name in neat little rows of four per package.

Oh, by the way, the Rada family, they've got an opinion on this, and we will get to that strong opinion later on.

In the meantime, I'm looking at this picture of the first ever commercial peeps, these old school peeps, and honestly, they seem pretty close to what you'd see sticking out of an Easter basket today.

A row of four plump, wide-eyed chiclets staring out from behind the saran wrap box.

So once these peeps are actually out into the world, what is the verdict?

The verdict is two wings up.

Peeps are one of the rare instant hits of business.

Unfortunately, we have zero sales figures from this time because private family-owned companies often keep their revenue numbers private.

But we do know this.

Peeps continue to be produced every single year ever since that launch.

Except for when they briefly shut down in 2020 because of of COVID, but that's the one exception.

But other than that, you've got new peeps cropping up every springtime, just like the first tulips of the season.

I love how you put it, Jack, because just like Roscoe Rada before him, Bob Bourne is going to double down on seasonality, but he's going to do it in a way that really grows the product.

Step into our office because we're digging into some sweet business strategy.

Seasonality by itself isn't actually good or bad.

Seasonality just means that the sales of a product are affected by the time of the year.

Think pumpkin spice lattes in the fall, apparel spritzes in the summer, or tax season when tax prep companies flood the airways from February 8th through tax day on April 15th.

As Jack and I like to say, seasonality, it sells, baby.

When a product becomes part of an annual ritual, that is a profit puppy.

But seasonality is also a double-edged sword.

The thing that makes someone want to buy a product in July makes them not want to buy the same product six months later in the winter, which leads to the seasonality paradox.

By their nature, seasonal sales are limited to one time period.

But Nick, that limitation is key to the product's demand.

That limitation drives enthusiasm and makes you want to buy them during that season.

Starbucks could extend.

PSL year-round, pumpkin spice lattes 365 days a year because there is such high demand for them.

But would they be as demanded if the window to buy them was actually unlimited?

Speaking of Starbucks, PSL season is not their only seasonal play.

They've got lavender latte season in the spring, Frappuccino season in the summer, and Red Cup season.

That's all of December.

Starbucks has created an entire portfolio of seasonal products so they can capitalize on seasonality all year round.

They're getting creative.

And getting creative is exactly what Bob Bourne is going to do with peeps.

Peeps themselves are for Easter, of course.

Because when else is a baby yellow chip going to spread its wings?

But once Bob has established the Peeps brand in the consumer marketplace, he's going to dip a toe into other holidays too.

By the 1960s, he has launched festive marshmallow shapes like Christmas trees, Valentine's hearts, Halloween pumpkins, and...

Okay, I don't know what these are.

Okay, I don't know how our team found these, but our researchers found a picture of a product called a Witchmellow, and they kind of look like

Halloween bears that will haunt you?

They look like bears dressed up as ghosts for Halloween.

They're concerning, but this is a real Halloween peep.

It's kind of like a bat.

Now, for Justborn, nothing, including these witch mellows, finds success as fast as the classic Easter peep did.

Justborn reports that around 70% of peep sales happen at Easter time.

But this means that 30% of sales are happening at other times of the year.

That's not small, Nick.

30%?

No, those are good numbers, Jeff.

And it happens because Bob decided to make a play for the other seasons.

So in a way, Peeps is kind of getting the best of both worlds here.

They're showing up to celebrate every holiday with us.

And there's one season, Easter, that they basically own.

In fact, more than half of American consumers see Peeps as the first sign of spring.

Can you believe that?

Forget Groundhog.

Peeps, they don't need a shadow.

Peeps have reached peak seasonality.

They're more than sugar.

They're a symbol.

And products that are symbols have longevity.

Once they're here, they're here to stay.

And that is not a joke about these marshmallows being physically indestructible.

Peep's strategy and its success stay virtually unchanged for over seven decades.

Though they do lose their wings in 1955, the depositor machine doesn't do wings very well.

Even the parent company just born is still family-owned and operated today right out of Bethlehem, Pennsylvania.

When company founder Sam Bourne dies in 1959, his son, Bob, takes over as president.

He'll stay in charge until the 90s and then pass the torch to his son, Ross.

That's a huge deal because according to the small business group score, only 12% of family businesses make it past the third generation.

So they're doing pretty well.

If you're running a family business, you know that is not easy.

Bob himself lives until he's almost 100 years old.

He only just passed away in 2023.

Maybe peeps have long-lasting health benefits we don't know about, Jack.

Well, I don't think we can legally suggest that name.

No, we just did.

So with peeps, you have this cute, classic marshmallow treat with a great story invented by one candy maker, acquired and perfected by a second candy maker, and then enjoyed and scaled throughout the world.

But none of that answers the biggest question that we have about these chicks.

How exactly do they go from candy to cult?

The morning is still.

The fog clinging to the field of battle.

Two brave contestants stand at attention as squires prepare the jousting grounds.

Sir Yellow casts a wary glance at his foe, Sir Pink, and grips his lance.

Which one will prove the more pure of heart?

Which brave knight will emerge victorious from

the microwave?

Okay, these aren't real knights we're talking about.

It's a pastime known as peep jousting that gets popularized on YouTube.

Each peep combatant is armed with a toothpick and sent into a 30-second battle to the death in the microwave.

As the heat cranks up, the peeps swell and warp, and whichever one's toothpick pierces the other ones first wins the battle.

Although sometimes the winner is just the peep that, you know, ends up the least melted.

Peep jousting becomes a viral craze around the year 2006.

And people are still doing this almost 20 years later today.

Peep Joust has its own hashtag on TikTok with millions of views.

Like Lip Sync Challenges or Mr.

Beast, Peeps owes their success to the web.

Peeps blow up online, then this ancient company starts earning organic press offline.

This isn't just us speculating.

The rise of the internet also saw a major rise in peep press coverage and brand awareness.

This actually leads to a Justborn branding decision that is going to have some really big implications.

For years, Justborn maintained strict boundaries separating true peeps, as in the peeps shaped like baby chicks, from all the other marshmallow treats, the trees, the pumpkins, the witchmellows, et cetera.

But in the early 2000s, Justborn starts packaging all of their marshmallow treats under one single peep-branded umbrella, Because honestly, it's just too recognizable a name to not capitalize on.

Suddenly, bunnies are peeps.

Christmas trees are peeps.

Those bears dressed as ghosts are peeps.

Yeah.

This is all part of a deliberate strategy to convert all the attention they're getting online.

After all, peep is like a whole lot easier to Google than sculpted marshmallow candy witch thing.

And this creates a marketing feedback loop that raises the peep profile in the digital world and in real life.

People run science experiments.

They invent oddball peep recipes.

And of course, do arts and crafts with peeps.

And that's why this is such an incredible business benefit.

About one-third of all peeps are used not for eating, but for decorations and arts and crafts, like the Washington Post Peep Diorama Contest that's been running on and off since 2006.

Called The Peep Show, naturally.

That's good, by the way.

Last year's entrance, they included Peep Jeopardy, I see Peep and Heimer Jack, and there is a multi-layered Peepception.

A peep within a peep within another peep.

This marshmallow art, it really brings us full circle.

It brings us back to when Rada Candy Company's handmade peeps were used as Easter decorations for show, not food.

Well, I'm glad you brought that up, Jack, because it brings us to an interesting wrinkle in the entire story.

When Justborn bought the Rada brand, we mentioned that they kept the Radha name on all the peeps packages.

They had the option to kill the old brand name, but they kept it instead.

After all, Rada was already established as a brand that makes Easter products.

So why change it?

Well, here's the reason, Jack.

According to some Radha family members, they really, really, really don't like the family name being associated with these marshmallow chicks.

That's right.

It turns out the original creators of Peeps hate peeps.

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It's 2012 and a blogger named Roberta Kyle hits publish on a pleasant little little article about peeps.

It wouldn't be Easter without peeps, she writes, and turns in 700 words about Peeps' history, the Just Born Company, their weirdly squishy texture.

She even includes a recipe for smeeps, which are s'mores but with peeps instead of regular marshmallows, which sounds lovely.

But then Roberta starts going through the reader comments and her stomach drops.

One of Roscoe Rada's own grandchildren has read her piece.

And Nick, you want to read what Roscoe's granddaughter writes here?

I want everyone to know that my grandfather never made a peep.

Naturally, Roberta is confused.

I mean, I'm confused, Jack.

Like, what about that whole mysterious back room you built up at the Rada factory?

Okay, technically, Roscoe himself had passed away years before Bob Bourne opened the door to that back room.

So maybe the peeps were started by someone else at the company after his death.

All right, Jack, that's a perfectly reasonable explanation, except that Roscoe's granddaughter isn't done spilling the jelly beans yet, is she, man?

No, she isn't.

A couple days later, she writes into a different blog.

This woman has a lot of time on her hands.

This blog is a New Hampshire history site called Cow Hampshire.

Great name.

And she describes how excited she had been as a little girl to see a box of peeps with her family's name on it.

That is, until her father, one of Roscoe Rada's sons, saw the package and fumed.

My father never made that quality of candy.

This is the mystery we teased at the top of the show, the one that got us intrigued to pursue the true peeps creator in the first place.

A lot of times in business, we hear about someone who wants credit for their achievement, but doesn't get it.

But this is the opposite.

The Rada family got the credit for peeps, but they don't want it, which is the big question we still haven't answered, Jack.

Why don't they want the credit?

What is your theory, man?

I think this is the Radas making a distinction between their handcrafted peeps before the acquisition and the mass-produced modern version post-acquisition.

All right, I got you.

I see what you're saying.

The OG Peeps used real piping bags, 27 hours of labor.

They were really making birdie meringues.

On the other hand, the Just Born Peeps are made by a machine glopping marshmallow gelatin onto a tray.

Maybe it's like how some people don't consider ready whip to be real whipped cream.

The Rada family were purists when it came to peeps.

They think these mass-produced versions aren't worthy of the Radha name.

Well, Jack, that actually gets at the true secret ingredient to Peeps' viral fame.

They're inherently controversial.

I mean, think about this: peeps basically have zero nutritional value.

Yeah.

One serving of five chicks weighs 42 grams, but 34 grams is just sugar.

And 71% of a peeps content is added sugar.

Nick, you can't call it added sugar when it's 71%.

That's not added.

That is the product.

Also, you know, they do have a divisive texture and flavor, like squishy, but crunchy.

You don't get that in the natural world.

Crunchy, Nick?

Dude, I think you should check the expiration date on the pack of peeps you just ate.

Well, apparently, Jack, some people like them slightly stale.

A peep survey supports my point that 12% of fans prefer their chicks aged like a fine Pinot.

I think it's more like aged like a fine Skittles pack.

Don't peep shame me on the show about peeps, Jack, all right?

This is exactly the kind of low stakes, but passionate debate that drives the social media era.

Like we say, Jack, on social media, the comments are the content.

And you know, this kind of feels like our theory about embracing the one-star review.

Yeah, Jack, we said that in one of our early episodes.

The only reviews that you want are five-star or one-star.

The most viral products of all time, they don't have lukewarm reviews in the middle.

They're causing extreme reactions.

Peeps are like Kendrick Lamar.

They thrive on controversy.

Fans buy them because they love them.

Haters buy them to nuke them and then post the video on their YouTube channel.

When is the first Peeps diss track coming out, Mick?

Oh, and the folks over at Peeps, they know this.

You might even say that they've been provoking these reaction videos the whole time.

And they're driving that unpaid media PR with one particular strategy, collabs.

Peeps 21st century strategy is all about provocative parrots.

We're talking Kellogg's Peep cereal, Peeps Gummies, Peeps and Pepsi, Peeps and Oreo, disturbing combos.

Really, honestly, chaos marketing here.

They're aiming for things that are so far away on the spectrum that there's just an element of surprise, like peeps and Crocs, Peeps and Funko, Sally Hanson, ColourPop, Build-A-Bear, and Peeps collabs with brands you cannot bite into, Jack.

They've made sandals with Katy Perry.

And they've even got to deal with dental care brands like Orangel and Spinbrush because Peeps does drive new sales for Origel.

Well, by the end of this podcast, I'm going to have my first cavity, Jack.

So that makes sense too.

A lot of these collabs are limited time offers, which are a great way to drive conversation and sales.

But you could also argue that they're clickbait collabs because they bait a reaction, don't don't they?

And that's part of a whole new strategy of chaos marketing that we're seeing to generate attention in the attention economy.

Like peeps themselves, the collabs are designed to maximize that five-star, one-star effect to attract attention, start a conversation, and drive traffic.

Whatever reason people are buying peeps, the collab strategy seems to be working.

According to a director of marketing at Justborn, the peeps licensing program generated $100 million in U.S.

retail sales in the spring of 2022 alone.

These sales all happened in the springtime Easter season within a span of just 10 to 12 weeks.

The peeps stand for something.

It's a springtime candy and spring, it's all about rebirth.

Okay, Mr.

Day Before Thanksgiving, now that you've heard the story of peeps, what's your takeaway?

Find your Super Bowl.

Super Bowl Sunday is the biggest day of the year by far for chicken wings.

In the United States alone, we'll consume close to one and a half billion wings on that day.

Basically, the Super Bowl is Black Friday for Buffalo Wildwings.

But there are other days throughout the year that brands can grab onto and use a single day to drive their sales.

For example, Guinness owns St.

Patty's Day.

Mariah Carey, she owns Christmastime.

And Mattress Firm owns President's Day for some random reason.

And Easter, that's owned by peeps.

If you're a recycled paper company that saves trees, build your marketing push around Arbor Day.

Instead of being moderately present throughout the year, be fully present one day of the year.

Own that day, make that day your Super Bowl.

Although don't choose the actual Super Bowl Sunday for your day.

That one's taken.

Pick a day when TV commercials aren't $8 million for 30 seconds, and then make that day your Super Bowl.

All right, Jack, what about you, Mr.

Labor Day?

What's your takeaway?

You don't just need an R ⁇ D team.

You need an Area 51.

Every company has research and development.

It's standard on the corporate accounting sheet.

But the R ⁇ D teams that really make a difference are the ones that are isolated, like physically separated from the rest of the company.

That physical separation protects the team from feeling the gravitational pull of the status quo.

Netflix, when they first developed their streaming platform, they built a physically different office for the streaming team so that the DVD team and the streaming team never spoke and that way the streaming team could really innovate.

Well, the Rodda Company did this too with that back room where they created the peeps.

Putting on your mad scientist hat makes you more likely to try out something unorthodox or wild.

And these experiments can become your best ideas.

Your R ⁇ D team needs freedom.

So give them their Area 51.

Even if that innovation becomes a product that's 130% sugar.

All right, Nick, before we go, it's time for our favorite part of the show.

The best facts.

The best facts yet.

These are the hero stats, the facts, the surprises we discovered in our research, but we just couldn't fit into the story.

Jack, kick them off.

What do we got, man?

In 2017, competitive eater Matt Stoney set a new world record by eating, get this, 255 peeps in just five minutes.

Again, we're not doctors, but 255 peeps is almost four pounds of pure sugar.

Although, Jack, we should point out that peeps are planet friendly.

Their factory in Bethlehem has a 98% recycling rate and is landfill-free.

So arguably the most sustainable factory of any product or company we've covered on this show.

love that and nothing goes to waste in the peeps production process not even the sugar the sugar crystals left on the convera belt after dusting the marshmallows are recovered and transferred back to the beginning of the production process to go through the process all over again amazing basically regenerative peeping and finally we talked about peeps legendary indestructibility well in 1999 researchers from emory university put that to the test they did an experiment trying to dissolve peeps using water and then acetone and then sodium hydroxide and even sulfuric acid.

Nothing could kill the peep.

Actually, something could kill the peep.

It was finally phenol, a chemical that breaks down proteins that was able to vanquish the mighty peeps.

Only their waxy eyes survived.

And because they'll outlive us all, peeps are the best idea yet.

Coming up on the next episode of the best idea yet, put on your backyard camo and turn on the the hose because we're talking about the super soaker.

Hey, if you have a product you're obsessed with, but you wish you knew the backstory, drop us a comment.

We'll look into it for you.

Oh, and don't forget to rate and review the podcast.

Follow The Best Idea Yet on the Wondery app, Amazon Music, or wherever you get your podcasts.

You can listen to every episode of The Best Idea Yet early and ad-free right now by joining Wondery Plus and the Wondery app or on Apple Podcasts.

Before you go, tell us about yourself by filling out a short survey at wondery.com/slash slash survey.

The best idea yet is a production of Wondery, hosted by me, Nick Martel, and me, Jack Kravici-Kramer.

Our senior producers are Matt Beagle and Chris Gauthier.

Peter Arcuni is our additional senior producer.

Our senior managing producer is Nick Ryan, and Taylor Sniffin is our managing producer.

Our associate producer and researcher is H.

Conway.

This episode was written and produced by Katie Clark Gray.

We use many sources in our research, including The History of Peeps by Matt Blitz for Food and Wine, and The Black Peep Scandal, an Easter Candy Mystery and the Father of the Jelly Bean by Carl Anthony.

Sound design and mixing by C.J.

Drummeler.

Fact-checking by Brian Punyon.

Music supervision by Scott Velazquez and Jolena Garcia for Freeson Singing.

Our theme song is Got That Feeling Again by Blackalack.

Executive producers for Nick and Jack Studios are me, Nick Martel, and me, Jack Ravici-Kramer.

Executive producers for Wondery are Dave Easton, Jenny Lauer-Beckman, Aaron O'Flaherty, and Marsha Louis.

On Boxing Day 2018, 20-year-old Joy Morgan was last seen at her church, Israel United in Christ, or IUIC.

I just went on my Snapchat and I just see her face plastered everywhere.

This is the missing sister, the true story of a woman betrayed by those she trusted most.

IUIC is my family and like the best family that I've ever had.

But IUIC isn't like most churches.

This is a devilish cult.

You know when you get that feeling where you just, I don't want to be here.

I want to get out.

It's like that feeling of, I kind of want to go hang out.

I'm Charlie Brentcoast Cuff and after years of investigating Joy's case, I need to know what really happened to Joy.

Binge all episodes of The Missing Sister exclusively and ad-free right now on Wondery Plus.

Start your free trial of Wondery Plus on Spotify, Apple Podcasts, or in the Wondery app.