Time Wafers No Man

Bob Borzillo hears people like to sandwich cream cheese between two of his Sweetzels Spiced Wafers. Others like them with beer, but they're great as a pie crust or with ice cream, too. Babies teethe on them — so do dogs. And because of the molasses in the recipe, horses love them, too. "Everybody eats Sweetzels," says Borzillo, as if he's working on a slogan. "It's a tradition." Fall is a sweet season, and Borzillo, the owner of Skippack's Sweetzels Foods, is a busy baker. His signature crunchy, slow-baked wafers, which work off a mellow blend of cinnamon, cloves, ginger and molasses that lingers on the palate, are a prime reason Oct. 31 will always be more about treats than tricks. The signature black-and-orange box is the stuff of Halloween. "It's been a mind-set around here," Borzillo says of his company's top product. "Certain things say certain things. Spiced wafers say, 'fall.'"

Fall is a sweet season, and Borzillo, the owner of Skippack's Sweetzels Foods, is a busy baker. His signature crunchy, slow-baked wafers, which work off a mellow blend of cinnamon, cloves, ginger and molasses that lingers on the palate, are a prime reason Oct. 31 will always be more about treats than tricks. The signature black-and-orange box is the stuff of Halloween. "It's been a mind-set around here," Borzillo says of his company's top product. "Certain things say certain things. Spiced wafers say, 'fall.'"

During the height of prime selling season — July 1 through this month — Borzillo's 30,000-square-foot automated plant in York produces 2,400 cookies, or 42 boxes, a minute. Each year, he purchases 300,000 pounds of molasses, plus a selection of secret sugars and spices (the most expensive ingredients) that ensures that one-of-a-kind taste.

Still, Borzillo says he wants area stores to empty their shelves of cookies by Thanksgiving. "I like it that way," Borzillo says. "That way, all around Philadelphia, there's this pent-up demand. Everyone looks forward to it. Then, they arrive and it's like, 'Oh! They're out!'"

Borzillo, 53, grew up in the Plymouth-Meeting area. His family owned a wholesale Italian bakery in Norristown. In 1965, the family acquired the Sweetzels Cookies brand from Lansdale's Perfect Foods. Though best-known as a pretzel bakery, Perfect Foods also had a potato chip — the Chipzel — and an assortment of other products cheekily ending in -zel. Sweetzels was its cookie division. By 1972, the Borzillos, who were then producing both cookies and bread, sold the latter business to Amoroso's. "We just began concentrating on the cookies," he says.

By 2001, Borzillo had moved operations to Bridgeport, but a fire that May in a multiunit complex he shared with 50 other businesses nearly destroyed it all. "I lost everything I had," he says. Only his resourcefulness and contacts saved him. He contracted with a California baker for the remainder of the year to keep his products moving. "I had to keep it going," Borzillo says. "You can't pull out of the business. If you do, then when you try to come back, you learn they forget you real fast."

Now, at his 20-employee York factory, the wafers are baked using a recipe and formula he won't disclose. He's remained a bake-to-order company, so the cookies are produced and shipped within two or three days of an order. "We're putting out the freshest product we can," Borzillo says.

Stale for a Sweetzels Spiced Wafer is soft, but sales certainly aren't. In units sold during the fourth quarter of the year, Sweetzels Spiced Wafers stacks up with the Oreo and Chips Ahoy! brands in the Philadelphia market, according to Information Resources Inc., a Chicago-based company that tracks store sales. Boldly, Borzillo issues Philly's ultimate salute: "I put [Sweetzels Spiced Wafers] right up there with Tastykake, soft pretzels and cheesesteaks."

Ever since the factory-made spiced wafer made its debut in the early 1900s (Sweetzels also produces popular ginger snaps), they were only available in the Philadelphia region, and only during autumn. But of late, Borzillo's moved his local cookie lineup into New England and down into the Baltimore-D.C. region. In those areas, the cookies have a year-round appeal at independently owned shops. But now, major chains like Wal-Mart, Kmart, Weis, Giant and ShopRite are signing on for supplies. He's also working with Bucks County Coffee on developing a Sweetzels coffee flavor. "Traditionally, we've just been in [small] food stores," says Borzillo. "But it's every man's dream job to sell to the big guys."

Though he says it was initially a challenge to get nonindoctrinated customers to spend $2 for a box of unknown product, he made headway last year by producing a successful 99-cent sampler, which contains around 20 cookies. "Anyone will spend a buck," he says. "Once they pick one up, they're hooked on the magic ingredient. Then the trick is to get them to pick up the bigger box."

Ned Kulp, 80, whose family owned and operated Perfect Foods, joined Borzillo's company five years ago as a marketing assistant. "We make a good team," says Kulp, "but he's the kingpin. He's the boss. Bob's an example of what America's about. He's a guy with a good mind and guts."

Kulp believes the success of the cookies, like most products with some longevity, lies in the recipe. "It's the blend of spices," he says. "There's nothing else that resembles it in appearance, or in its special baking process, or in the way it bites, or its flavor. Plus, it touches everyone, from little kids all the way up."

"Yeah, there's something addicting in there," Borzillo admits. "It's like potato chips. I'm always told that once you start [eating the wafers], you can't stop."