Sweet Enchantment

Once upon a time, in a modest cottage in an unremarkable corner of Bexley, dwelt a sculptor and a writer. They raised their three children, smiled at their neighbors, clipped their hedges and mowed their lawn. “Nothing to see here,” they might have said.

But when the cottage windows were open and the breeze wafted in the right direction, a passerby might catch the scent of something magical—the juiciness of ripe berries, the tart pucker of rhubarb, the yielding ripeness of a peach.

“Sweet,” he might murmur, and he would be right. Because that modest cottage is the home of Sweet Thing Gourmet, and every year from its kitchen pour 18,000 jars of luscious jam, the alchemy of imagination and hard work.

(right) On this visit, the couple was making a batch of Rhubarb and Ruby Grapefruit jam.

OBSTACLES INTO OPPORTUNITIES

Fifty-somethings Kyla and Mark Touris have been professional jam-makers for a combined total of 32 years. And although they are scary good at what they do, jam was not Plan A.

Armed with an English degree and a teaching certificate (Kyla) and a Columbus College of Arts degree and a Master’s in Fine Arts in Sculpting (Mark), they married in 1994 and began life in Kyla’s home state of Montana.

“We loved Montana, but it’s a tough place to make a living,” says Mark. Baby Aaron’s arrival prompted a move to Columbus in 2000, where Mark became design director at an ad agency, and Kyla became pregnant with twin girls.

Determined to stay home with her three young children, and inspired in part by Victoria magazine’s stories of women entrepreneurs, Kyla turned to jam.

“Both Mark and I love to cook,” she says. “I remember foraging for rose hips with my mom to put in strawberry jam.”

So on a sultry July morning in 2003, with a quaking heart and a borrowed card table, Kyla set up shop at the Worthington Farmers Market with several dozen biscotti and four flavors of jam based on her mom’s recipes. She returned triumphant: “In a couple of hours, I made $300!”

Thus began Sweet Thing Gourmet. “I chose that name because I thought it was a sweet thing the way it all came together—I could stay at home with the kids, still feel productive, and supplement our income.”

Year after year, Sweet Thing flourished. And when Mark’s company was hard hit by the 2008 recession, he officially became the second full-time jam-maker in the business. Sweet Thing was Kyla’s passion. Mark saw it as “a wise choice.” They expanded their farmers market business and took on more wholesale accounts. “We got busier—as we had to, since it was full time for both of us.”

JAMMIN' IN THE KITCHEN

When photographer Autumn LeAnn and I arrive at the Tourises’, a batch of Rhubarb and Ruby Grapefruit jam is already prepped and bubbling on their non-industrial stovetop. The grapefruit is fresh, the frozen rhubarb purchased from the Amish. In season they use local, fresh fruit.

Typically, they start at 8am and end at 2 or 3pm, making eight to 10 batches of jam. “We work longer days in November and December, 10 to 12 batches,” Kyla says, “with a table set up in the living room for packing gift boxes.” The rest of the day? Labeling, deliveries and bookkeeping.

Under Kyla’s artful direction, jam-making looks like a sleight-of-hand trick: Now you see fruit, now you see jam. In between, the fruit boils, Kyla adds sugar and natural pectin and skims foam from the finished jam, and Mark washes and dries every dirty dish, but they answer my questions as they work, never missing a beat.

“We each have our roles,” Mark says, deftly screwing lids on the scalding jars of jam that Kyla has just poured.

Among Mark’s tasks are design and branding, which includes the website and product labels. “After our first Home and Garden show in 2009, the local Whole Foods rep approached us about carrying our jams,” Mark says. “They wanted each flavor to have a different label, by color.”

Sweet Thing dropped the account when Amazon bought Whole Foods and changed the terms for local sellers. But the labeling has endured: 175 different colored labels to match 175 different flavors of jam.

In their home kitchen, they use “regular household equipment,” producing an average of 1,500 jars of jam per month. They have worn out one stove hood, and every two years must replace the enameled tin kettle used for sterilizing jars; stainless steel, which would wear better, is too heavy. Even so, Kyla dons wrist braces to lug the kettle, filled with boiling water and 19 filled jars, from stove to countertop.

Ninety minutes later, 37 jars of jam sparkle rosily on the granite countertop. The kitchen is clean; indeed, to my admiration, it never really seemed to get dirty. Sweet Thing is a tiny factory of jammy efficiency.

Autumn and I sample the pink foam, at once tart and sweet, and taste summer.

There are different colored labels for the various Sweet Thing Gourmet jams.

THE JAM THAT SELLS ITSELF

Mark and Kyla make wholesale look easy, too. “We’ve never had to advertise—our jam sells itself,” Kyla says, which sounds like magic to me. The Inn at Cedar Falls orders 35–40 cases of jam per quarter to sell at the gift shop, and another 35–40 quart-size jars to use in the Inn’s restaurant.

Since 2011, Sweet Thing has produced a signature line of uniquely flavored jams that now form the bulk of their sales. The Speakeasy Collection, based on various cocktails, were “wildly popular” last year, Kyla says. “People buy Cherry Manhattan jam by the case and use it for cocktails.”

Sixty percent of sales happen face to face at central Ohio farmers markets.

Mark, who works in mediums such as wood, granite and found objects, shares his sculpture studio (aka the garage) with a large pallet of empty jam jars and lids, a chest freezer, a folding table, a tent and other paraphernalia of the farmers market. “It’s not ideal,” he concedes.

“It takes us 45 minutes to load after a market,” Kyla says. Multiply that 45 minutes by four (load for the market, set up, tear down, unload again back home) and you begin to understand the rigors of selling at up to six farmers markets a week during the outdoor season.

Nevertheless, Kyla looks forward to the outdoor markets, especially in Worthington, where she’s known her customers for almost 20 years. “I’ve developed relationships with many people. I’ve seen them have kids, and the kids grow up.” She smiles her warm smile, the same one customers see at the market. “I get there and I’m just so happy.”

And that is also part of the magic.

Sweet Thing Gourmet Jams are available at Weiland’s Gourmet Market; Lucky’s; Bexley’s Natural Market; Meza Wine Shop in Westerville; Red Stable Gifts in German Village, and various local farmers markets. For more information and to order online see sweetthinggourmet.com.

BEYOND THE TOAST
 

Kyla and Mark urge customers to “think beyond the toast” when purchasing jam. “Raspberry Jalapeño is delicious on Swedish meatballs,” Kyla says. Cherry Manhattan and Ginger Peach can glaze chicken or pork tenderloin.

A cheeseboard is a natural for jam. Apple Cider Jelly or Vanilla Pear Jam match well with Gorgonzola or Roquefort or goat cheese.

For ice cream? “The Benjamin!” Kyla and Mark cry in unison. Kyla likes to watch customers sample this jam, made from rhubarb and roasted carrot with cardamom. “They don’t think they’ll like it,” she says, “but they always love it.”

The New Albany Country Club specializes in Bourbon and Sweet Thing jam cocktails. Here are two of Kyla’s cocktail recipes:

Don’t Call Me Old Fashioned

Spicy Margarita