Walking into Shane Confectionery in Old City, you’re immediately hit with the smell of sweetness: melted chocolate, creamy caramel, the slightest hint of fruit.
You’re also hit with the feeling that you just stepped back in time: the creaking and original hardwood floors, the intricate blue-and-white fixtures, the old-timey cash register, the 19th-century stained glass. This chocolatey, nostalgic sensation feels right for a visit during America’s 250th celebration.
As she walks me through the storefront and into the kitchen, Pavia Burroughs, Shane’s creative director, rattles through a list of the confectionery’s owners since 1863: The Herrings, the Denglers (Daniel Dengler allegedly dabbled in the fireworks trade during the slow summer chocolate season), the Wescotts, and the Shanes, who held onto the business for 99 years before bequeathing ownership to the Berley Brothers (who had opened the nearby Franklin Fountain) in 2010.
“(The Shanes) had really made an impression in the city… and in order to pay homage to the really ingrained legacy at that point, the Berleys decided to keep it named ‘Shane,’” Burroughs said.
Today, all of the chocolate and ice cream at Shane Confectionery, The Franklin Fountain and The Franklin Ice Cream Bar next door is made in-house. The cocoa beans are ethically sourced from Uncommon Cacao, ground in the back of Shane’s, melted down and turned into everything from passionfruit caramels (Boroughs’ favorite) to the popular Schnickelfritz peanut butter crisp in dark chocolate (a crowd favorite). The packaging, also done in-house, is designed by Burroughs, who first started working there as a candy clerk.
In addition to buying chocolates, candies, and cookies, customers can drink seasonal hot and cold chocolate in the cafe between the storefront and the kitchen. The cafe’s 1880s wooden counters are all salvaged from shuttered local candy shops.
For America's 250th, The Franklin Fountain is serving up two patriotic specials: A Philly Fish House Punch, named after the highly potent drink served at America’s oldest angling club that allegedly made George Washington hungover for three days (the Franklin version swaps brandy and rum for black tea, lemon, and peach), and a Torch of Liberty sundae featuring layers of lemon sorbet, vanilla ice cream, mango sorbet, and raspberry compote.
