Bellingham’s Sweet Art Candy Kitchen Keeps the Chocolate Coming

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Over the last quarter century, downtown Bellingham has seen many changes. Many businesses, people — and even entire buildings — have come and gone. But one small shop along Railroad Avenue has stood the test of time, defying recession, pandemic, and anything else thrown its way.

Sweet Art Candy Kitchen — a chocolate and art shop that churns out fresh fudge, truffles, turtles, and toffee — has been the pride and province of Jerry and Vivian Hruska since 1998.

The couple, now in their 70s, moved to Bellingham from Laguna Beach, California, in 1992 seeking a cooler climate. Jerry is a chocolatier with a half-century of experience, and Vivian paints canvases large and small as an artist.

“We have a good product and we have loyal customers,” Vivian says of the shop’s longevity. “We do not advertise. It’s always been word-of-mouth.”

Sweet Art Candy Kitchen is, paradoxically, both easy and hard to miss: its small space is wedged between a thriving corner waffle shop and a shoe repair business. But its storefront includes a metal sign above the door reading “CHOCOLATE,” a giant wooden candy cane to one side, and a large logo featuring an artist’s palette with various candies in place of paint splotches.

Inside, the walls are covered in Vivian’s artwork and plenty of novelty items, including a Tyrannosaurus Rex head clutching a popcorn ball in its mouth.

Shelves are bedecked with more unique items: a plastic skeleton, complete with hook hand, peg leg, eye patch and bandana, sits atop a tall cabinet filled with chocolates molded in the shape of dinosaurs, penguins, chickens, goats, cats, and various dog breeds. On the skeleton’s left shoulder sits an even smaller skeleton.

The shop’s main attraction, of course, is its antique candy cases, which brim with chocolates of all shapes and sizes.

There are butterscotch bambeenies, rainbow bars, mohawks (fudge topped with walnuts), pecan maple rooks, mad hatters, hedge hogs, and other uniquely-named specimens. There are chocolates that look like orca whales, owls, and pigs, the latter of which are contained in a small white-picket pigpen. There are white, milk and dark chocolates, and pieces of fruit dipped in chocolate.

Near the front of the store, examples of gift box sizes sit below a bust of Medusa, with a display of English and Czech toffee nearby. The latter variety, featuring dark chocolate and hazelnuts, is a nod to the Jerry’s last name and Czech heritage.

Jerry grew up in the Rocky Mountain West and graduated from high school in Billings, Montana, before joining the United States Navy. His friend had wanted to join the Air Force, but Jerry convinced him to flip a nickel to decide which branch they’d join.

Jerry had wanted to serve his country as a cook, but his high IQ led to time aboard an aircraft carrier specializing in electronics during the Vietnam War. When he got out just shy of four years, he used the G.I. bill to attend college in California, and eventually found himself in Seal Beach.

There, an old woman he called “Grandma,” along with another aging fudge-maker, showed Jerry the ins and outs of sweets-making. He eventually bought a 12-foot-by-12-foot shop of his own from Grandma for $1.

By 1976, Hruska found himself with his own fudge store in Laguna Beach, California. There, he met Vivian, who was managing an art supply store. Jerry would come in every day to buy a colored pencil as an excuse to talk to Vivian. When they finally married, it took place at a drive-thru chapel in Las Vegas.

Hruska’s business took off, to the point he was making hundreds of chocolate turtles seven days a week, and shipping fudge far from California. He was also featured in a 1978 Los Angeles Times photo; a copy of it hangs above the back door of his chocolate-making workspace, which includes a large marble cooling slab for rolling out fudge and other treats.

When the Hruskas decided to move north in 1992, they visited Jerry’s sister’s friends in Portland. The friends suggested settling in La Conner. While they liked it enough, a short jaunt north to Bellingham sealed their decision-making.

“We liked the idea of having a university, the culture — everything that Bellingham had is what we were looking for,” Jerry says.

The two had to get regular jobs at first — Vivian worked for a grocery store while Jerry did work related to his electronics background — but the couple eventually got their candy shop and art gallery up and running along Railroad Avenue.

Over the decades, plenty of things could have led the Hruskas to close up shop.

But they didn’t, even during the COVID-19 pandemic. Vivian says they handed out baskets of candy from a barrier during the spring of 2020, and customers never stopped visiting to get their fill of homemade chocolates in as healthy a way as they could.

The couple is unsure how much longer they’ll continue operating Sweet Art Candy Kitchen — due to his health, Jerry says he doesn’t work the local farmers’ market anymore, and essentially makes chocolate on an “on-demand” schedule now. The couple has several helper employees, and Jerry says he’s hopeful they’ll eventually find someone to take over the business to keep the chocolates coming.

But as long as the Hruskas continue living their daily passions of art and chocolate, you can bet the customers of Sweet Art Candy Kitchen will continue showing up. After all, it’s hard to resist chocolate, no matter your age.

“Candy makes you feel good,” says Vivian. “It’s a comfort thing.”

Featured photo by Matt Benoit

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