Peanut Chews—Your Grandpa’s Grandpa’s Favorite Candy

Peanut Chews are as lowkey Philly as snowballs whipping past Santa’s noggin or a pretzel rod stirring a cup of wooder ice. In other words—they’re known, just not ‘30-year-old boxer running up the Art Museum steps’ known. But don’t get it twisted—Peanut Chews are quintessentially Philadelphia. Molasses-forward bites packed with roasted peanuts, dipped in a no-nonsense dark-chocolate coating that packs a Heavyweight punch. And they didn’t need a statue to make their point—just real ingredients, unrelenting consistency, and the kind of sweet flavor that’s endured for over a hundred years and counting.

Goldenberg’s G.I. Chew

Peanut Chews didn’t just happen to Philly—they were born here, raised here, and toughened up during one of the hardest chapters in American history: World War I. And they weren’t even intended to be a dime-store candy at first. They were enlisted— as a ration. A legitimately tasty, high-energy treat meant to fuel American soldiers in the trenches—doughboys who needed calories more than comfort. Quick carbs and protein covered in chocolate—simple, rugged, efficient. A bite-sized survival kit forged for battle long before it ever hit a corner store, and one that just happened to taste delicious.

Little-known fact: by the turn of the 20th century, Philadelphia was the candy capital of the country. You know that cheap box of Whitman Samplers you grab as a last-second gift from the pharmacy—that's right, invented in the City of Brotherly Love, along with a whole roster of other confections. And while Whitman’s might’ve struck out with their Molasses Chew (fukouttahere with that one — and the jelly too), David Goldenberg — a Romanian immigrant who started making chocolates in the city in the late 1800s — got it right.

The Homecoming Candy

When the war ended and soldiers came home, many couldn’t stop thinking about the chew that kept them going through hard times. And Goldenberg’s, already rooted in Philly’s booming candy scene, didn’t miss the cue. From their family shop on Frankford Ave, they transformed that battlefield ration and gave it a civilian life: better dark chocolate, fancier packaging, and a recipe sturdy enough to survive a lunchbox, a movie matinee, or a trolley ride. They started selling whole bars, then moved to those bite-size pieces—bite-size chunks of chocolate-coated molasses, peanuts looking like they are locked in a sweet Jurassic amber. What started as trench fuel became a child’s treat almost overnight — the kind of “healthy” candy Philly kids grew up eating, whether they asked for it or not. I mean, if it was good enough for soldiers…

108 Years and Counting!

Goldenberg's has survived a factory fire, outlasted more mayors than Wawa locations, and gave us something sweet to distract us through decades long droughts of professional sports disappointments. (not anymore tho) Peanut Chews have been in pockets at every Mummers Parade, been in the background of every neighborhood rewrite, and outlasted every short-lived food trend from kale chips to cronuts.

Then in 2003, when Bethlehem, PA based Just Born — which has recently achieved its own centenarian status — bought the brand and decided to drop Goldenberg from the wrapper, Philly did what Philly does best: the whole city got loud. Said “nope!” And when sales fell, the wrapper quickly went back to normal. Order restored. Sales returned to normal.

Like Tulsa King proves, some things really do get better with age — maybe it’s clean living, the lighting, or maybe just a great surgeon

Pro Food Blogger Tip- throw a package into the freezer. If you don't break a tooth, you'll thank me