Unwrapped 2.0 (2015) s02e10 Episode Script
Sticky Situation
On this episode of "Unwrapped 2.
0," it's time to play with your food.
There's a pull-apart cinnamon roll you won't want to share and crunchy rings you could toss in your mouth, to well-groomed lollipops with a twist.
These lips-smacking treats are as much fun to play with as they are to eat.
There's a saying that you eat with your eyes, but not with this sweet cinnamon delight, no way.
This is most definitely a finger food.
Mm-mm! Based in California, Ne-Mo's Bakery has been crafting desserts like these pull-apart cinnamon rolls for over 40 years.
Ne-Mo's was started by the founders, Ned and Mona Smith.
The name comes from their first names.
And while they've been in business for over 40 years, it's their newest product that's grabbing all the attention.
The cinnamon pull-apart roll we developed a few years ago, and we wanted a good eating experience.
I'll vouch for that.
And once you pull apart these soft rolls and taste that gooey cinnamon center, you'll give it a very sticky thumbs up.
And each of these scrumptious rolls starts by scaling simple ingredients.
Flour, yeast, eggs, and sugar are weighed to perfect proportions.
After 20 minutes of mixing, the ingredients blend together to create a dough ball weighing in at 440 pounds.
The dough is flattened to and then rolled out to create one long, continuous dough sheet.
With the dough at the perfect height, it's time to focus on the key ingredient of these cinnamon rolls cinnamon.
Technically, a cinnamon paste.
They use two types of cinnamon.
Why? Well, that's a trade secret.
But we can tell you that it starts with powdered sugar, margarine, and of course, loads of cinnamon.
These ingredients are blended together, creating a batch of cinnamon paste that weighs 450 pounds.
This sweet, spicy cinnamon filling is ready to join the party.
The pump feeds the paste through a set of nozzles onto the flattened dough sheets while an attached metal blade spreads the paste.
At the same time, a set of blades that look kind of like pizza cutters slice the dough, making them about 8 inches wide.
Glazed and sliced, the rolls enter this crazy contraption called the torpedo.
The torpedo is a whirling, twirling, 6-foot-long, cone-like tube that rolls the cinnamon into the dough, tightly wrapping the tasty paste inside.
The rolled dough then enters a guillotine that slices the cinnamon rolls into 1/2-inch-thick pieces.
Workers pack three chunks of mouthwatering cinnamon roll into each baking tray slot, making it easy to share.
Just stay away from mine.
The trays are then stacked 8 feet high onto racks and whisked away to a proof box.
The proofing box warms the freshly made dough so it'll rise up, and to keep the humidity just right so the rolls will remain soft.
In about 45 minutes, the dough plumps up to fill the baking cups.
And once that happens, these treats are ready for the oven.
The pans of rolls bake in a 350-degree oven for 20 minutes.
But not just any oven.
This is a tunnel oven that spans 100 feet.
It's so big that 600 pans of cinnamon-y goodness can bake at one time.
Now golden brown and yummy-looking, the cinnamon rolls head out of the oven and onto a conveyer belt, where they enter a spiral cooler that'll bring their temperature down to about 90 degrees.
These chilled-out rolls then take a quick ride down a conveyer to waiting hands that flip them out of the pans.
I could eat them right now, but what would a cinnamon roll be without its icing? The baker doles out cream cheese, margarine, and some flavorful proprietary ingredients and pours the batch into a mixer.
And to sweeten the pot, a mountain of powdered sugar is added.
The ingredients are churned together by hand crank for 5 minutes, creating the silky smooth icing.
Thoroughly mixed, the creamy cream cheese icing is transferred to the waterfall depositor.
After their trip under the icing waterfall, the cinnamon rolls roll into a freezer for about 15 minutes.
This will chill them down to about 40 degrees so they won't get damaged during packaging.
One by one, the cinnamon rolls run through a horizontal wrapper before they're placed into boxes and sent to shipping.
We sell over 20 million cinnamon rolls a year.
I know I eat my fair share.
Who wouldn't want to get their hands on these cinnamon treats and pull off a piece for themselves? You've got that wonderful center part of the cinnamon roll in three of the pieces versus just one.
I love the center of them.
They're ooey and gooey and have the flavor and the taste that just tops off the experience.
Coming up, crunchy onion snacks that'll be a ringer at your next party.
And later, a lollipop that doubles as a disguise.
Hey.
You can stack 'em.
You can twirl 'em.
- You could even toss 'em.
- Hey! Oh, uh, sorry, man.
But with these onion rings, the best play is probably just to eat 'em.
Wise Onion Rings are a light and crunchy snack formed into rings with a zesty onion flavor.
Created in 1969, Wise Onion Rings have scored big since the day they hit store shelves.
Kids and kids at heart love to play with their food.
And who doesn't love to stack their fingers with onion rings? Making these playful snacks starts with cornstarch, five different powders of cornstarch, along with tapioca and onion powder.
All these powders are poured into a mammoth machine called a ribbon blender.
And it's got one job shred the ingredients into one big batch.
will go in that ribbon blender along with water and food coloring to give it just the right color.
After 20 minutes, the powder is pumped through a set of pipes into this monstrosity called a cooking extruder.
Heat and pressure build inside, turning the medley of powders, water, and food coloring into a doughlike ribbon.
It's then forced out of the end of the extruder through a set of four openings.
As if one trip through an extruder isn't enough, the long dough ropes travel down a funnel that feeds them into a second extruder.
It will knead that dough, get rid of any excess air that's in there.
The dough squeezes to the end of the machine, where it meets a die that shapes perfect onion-ring circles.
A rotating knife spinning 1,700 RPMs that's rotations per minute slice the dough into rings that fall onto a passing conveyor belt.
They have the right shape, but they're still just little rings of raw dough.
So up the conveyor belt they go, toward the drying oven.
This oven is massive! But the temperature is mild just 200 degrees.
But this isn't meant to cook the rings, just to dry them out a bit.
We're looking for the finished onion ring to be at a moisture of under 12 percent.
So we'll adjust the heat accordingly.
As they exit the oven, the finished rings fall onto a conveyor and head to a rotating drum.
This twirling machine flips the rings over and over, quickly cooling them down.
Once they reach the end of the drum, the onion rings are ready for a little rest and relaxation, dropping into plastic bins called totes.
The totes, now full of onion rings and weighing up to 400 pounds, are stacked up and sent to the resting room.
This mandatory R&R lasts for about 7 days so any remaining moisture inside the dough spreads evenly throughout the ring.
So by letting 'em set in the totes, you'll get a nice, even expansion.
Fully rested and ready to get their crunch on, these onion rings-in-waiting are emptied from their totes onto a conveyor and whisked away to a warming oven.
The warming oven works to preheat the rings so they'll expand during the frying.
Speaking of frying, set at a scorching 340 degrees, the fryer is ready and waiting for the rings to take the plunge.
The onion rings will drop to the bottom.
And as the oil causes the water that's left in the rings to boil, it'll expand four times its original size.
After about 2 minutes soaking in vegetable oil, the onion rings float to the top, which means they're cooked to perfection.
Fried to a golden goodness, the crispy rings drip dry as they head toward a rotating drum.
But this is no ordinary cooling drum.
It's here that these crunchy rings get dusted with a savory onion-flavored seasoning.
The seasoned rings drop from the tumbler and roll to the packaging area.
The onion rings are weighed within 1/10 of a gram, dropped into the bag, and then sealed.
Wise produces 2 million pounds of onion rings annually.
That's almost a billion rings.
So many rings, so little time.
Coming up, an ice cream sandwich with a name you might not want to be called but you'll want to eat.
Hey, who are you callin' fat? Hey.
It's a sandwich but for dessert.
And you can break it in half or lick around the edges, or my preferred method, the scoop.
Mm.
Over at Casper's Ice Cream, they've got an ice cream sandwich that you have to open wide for.
It's big, fat, thick, hence the name FatBoy.
This family business has been making ice cream sandwiches for 90 years.
My grandfather, Casper Merrill, couldn't make enough money just milking the cows on the family farm and decided to start making ice cream.
His ice cream recipe is the center of all that's good in the FatBoy sandwich.
And it starts right here in this liquefier, where fresh, creamy milk is poured in and a lot of it, Then, added to the frothy milk is a proprietary blend of sugar and powders, topping it all off with hundreds of pounds of creamy butter.
You're not on a diet, are you? This milky mixture is then pasteurized by heating it to a toasty 167 degrees.
The homogenizer breaks up the fat in the liquid mix, making a creamy, smooth, consistent batch of ice cream.
Then, the liquid is moved into holding tanks, where it sits at a frosty 40 degrees.
We like to age it a minimum 4 hours.
We make sure we have a smooth, consistent, delicious product every time.
Now, the liquid batch is ready to become ice cream.
The creamy liquid is pumped through a freezer that looks like a radiator on steroids.
It will incorporate air into it.
And it will freeze, at which point, it will be a soft-serve-ice-cream-cone consistency.
That means it's the perfect texture for an ice cream sandwich.
The soft-serve ice cream is forced through the extruder's two square molds.
The molds jump up and down like a pogo stick while a wire cuts the ice cream into 11/8-inch-thick blocks.
That's easily twice as thick as a regular ice cream sandwich.
It's churning out enough squares to fill more than a couple ice cream trucks.
The extruder cuts 120 bars each minute.
Cut down to size, the bars land on a conveyor belt and are carried away to a freezing tunnel.
At about 470 yards long, you can barely see the light at the end of this tunnel.
And you can be sure it's plenty cold.
Inside here, the ice cream squares are blasted with liquid nitrogen.
Temperatures inside reach negative 270 degrees.
That's colder than the surface of Mars.
Now, that's cold.
These giant pucks of frozen ice cream exit the tunnel at a solid 0 degrees.
The stainless steel conveyor carrying the ice cream squares is blasted with a water bath.
The ice cream squares go sledding on a slippery slope.
The loosened bars are picked off the belt by hand and placed into slots as they head toward the cross-feeder.
This is where the squares of ice cream become ice cream sandwiches.
First, crispy chocolate-flavored wafers are stacked up high in the cross-feeder machine.
Then, as the creamy blocks of goodness slide by, one wafer is placed on top, and another is set on the bottom, effectively sandwiching the ice cream.
The ice cream sandwiches slide down the stream toward the packaging machine, where they're slipped into plastic wrap, flipped into colorful boxes, and ready for cold storage.
Our FatBoy ice cream sandwich is really big.
If you were to stack on top of each other, it would be as tall as Mount Everest.
Whoa! That's one mountain I'd like to climb.
Coming up, a playful lollipop treat that'll keep your friends guessing at your next party.
Hey.
Okay.
So these mustaches may not make the world's best disguise.
But what they do make is a super-fun treat.
My favorite thing about the mustache pops is there's always a guaranteed laugh.
Based in Weymouth, Massachusetts, the Melville Candy Company first opened its doors in the 1920s.
What sets them apart? Their lollipops are made almost entirely by hand.
The company was founded by my mother's uncle, George Flinn.
He had several candy stores in the Boston area.
Through the decades, his family continued to expand the business, experimenting with a variety of fun flavors and shapes.
We have over a few thousand different shapes of designs and molds.
One of their best sellers is the bushy but manicured colorful mustache.
It may be a zany design, but the formula to make these wacky pops is pretty basic.
To start, they set up a line of pots on a table.
Then, they pour the sugar and ladle in the corn syrup.
Then, after adding water, they take the sugary mix to the stove oven.
After about 20 minutes, the pot heats up.
With temperature probes keeping a watchful eye, the liquid mix boils with a bubbly desire.
Hot off the stove, the pots of sugary goodness are transferred to a stainless steel worktable.
It's here that they'll add the flavor and coloring that makes these pops so special.
Today's flavor, blue raspberry.
They add blue food coloring and a mix of raspberry flavoring to the blend.
Then, it's time to add a little sparkle with a scoop full of candy glitter.
With all the ingredients mixed thoroughly by hand, they can start the molding process that'll shape this liquid candy into mustache pops.
Each mold is actually designed by our in-house team.
Lollipop sticks are carefully laid into built-in slots.
One by one, the liquid lollipop mix is hand poured out of the pot into a mustache mold.
This process isn't as simple as they make it look.
The temperature of this batch can reach 200 degrees.
So it takes time to learn the techniques to create a perfect mustache.
It usually takes 2 to 3 weeks to train someone to pour.
You're dealin' with a very, very hot temperature, and they know just exactly how much to pour in each mold.
Pourers need to act fast 'cause it doesn't take long for the pops to harden.
Workers then lift the colorful pops out of the mold and send them off to packaging.
We hand pack everything because it is another level of quality.
The bagged pops are then placed on a conveyor belt, where they'll slide through a heat-wrap machine.
When they exit, the lollipops have a formfitting wrapping that shows off their color and sparkle.
All bagged up, a twist tie seals the deal, and these glittery pops are ready for shipping.
We manufacture somewhere around a few million units of mustaches per year.
But before you bite into one, don't forget to have some fun first.
Kids love to play with 'em.
But it's not just the kids that love to play with 'em, we notice.
The adults love to play with 'em, too.
You can twirl 'em.
You could even toss 'em.
Hey! This may not make the best disguise-a, but, uh, what they do make well is the super fun treat.
Hey, I'm-a touch it.
Now put it in your mouth.
I can't eat it all 'cause of the lactose.
- Okay, here we go.
- But I could have a half.
0," it's time to play with your food.
There's a pull-apart cinnamon roll you won't want to share and crunchy rings you could toss in your mouth, to well-groomed lollipops with a twist.
These lips-smacking treats are as much fun to play with as they are to eat.
There's a saying that you eat with your eyes, but not with this sweet cinnamon delight, no way.
This is most definitely a finger food.
Mm-mm! Based in California, Ne-Mo's Bakery has been crafting desserts like these pull-apart cinnamon rolls for over 40 years.
Ne-Mo's was started by the founders, Ned and Mona Smith.
The name comes from their first names.
And while they've been in business for over 40 years, it's their newest product that's grabbing all the attention.
The cinnamon pull-apart roll we developed a few years ago, and we wanted a good eating experience.
I'll vouch for that.
And once you pull apart these soft rolls and taste that gooey cinnamon center, you'll give it a very sticky thumbs up.
And each of these scrumptious rolls starts by scaling simple ingredients.
Flour, yeast, eggs, and sugar are weighed to perfect proportions.
After 20 minutes of mixing, the ingredients blend together to create a dough ball weighing in at 440 pounds.
The dough is flattened to and then rolled out to create one long, continuous dough sheet.
With the dough at the perfect height, it's time to focus on the key ingredient of these cinnamon rolls cinnamon.
Technically, a cinnamon paste.
They use two types of cinnamon.
Why? Well, that's a trade secret.
But we can tell you that it starts with powdered sugar, margarine, and of course, loads of cinnamon.
These ingredients are blended together, creating a batch of cinnamon paste that weighs 450 pounds.
This sweet, spicy cinnamon filling is ready to join the party.
The pump feeds the paste through a set of nozzles onto the flattened dough sheets while an attached metal blade spreads the paste.
At the same time, a set of blades that look kind of like pizza cutters slice the dough, making them about 8 inches wide.
Glazed and sliced, the rolls enter this crazy contraption called the torpedo.
The torpedo is a whirling, twirling, 6-foot-long, cone-like tube that rolls the cinnamon into the dough, tightly wrapping the tasty paste inside.
The rolled dough then enters a guillotine that slices the cinnamon rolls into 1/2-inch-thick pieces.
Workers pack three chunks of mouthwatering cinnamon roll into each baking tray slot, making it easy to share.
Just stay away from mine.
The trays are then stacked 8 feet high onto racks and whisked away to a proof box.
The proofing box warms the freshly made dough so it'll rise up, and to keep the humidity just right so the rolls will remain soft.
In about 45 minutes, the dough plumps up to fill the baking cups.
And once that happens, these treats are ready for the oven.
The pans of rolls bake in a 350-degree oven for 20 minutes.
But not just any oven.
This is a tunnel oven that spans 100 feet.
It's so big that 600 pans of cinnamon-y goodness can bake at one time.
Now golden brown and yummy-looking, the cinnamon rolls head out of the oven and onto a conveyer belt, where they enter a spiral cooler that'll bring their temperature down to about 90 degrees.
These chilled-out rolls then take a quick ride down a conveyer to waiting hands that flip them out of the pans.
I could eat them right now, but what would a cinnamon roll be without its icing? The baker doles out cream cheese, margarine, and some flavorful proprietary ingredients and pours the batch into a mixer.
And to sweeten the pot, a mountain of powdered sugar is added.
The ingredients are churned together by hand crank for 5 minutes, creating the silky smooth icing.
Thoroughly mixed, the creamy cream cheese icing is transferred to the waterfall depositor.
After their trip under the icing waterfall, the cinnamon rolls roll into a freezer for about 15 minutes.
This will chill them down to about 40 degrees so they won't get damaged during packaging.
One by one, the cinnamon rolls run through a horizontal wrapper before they're placed into boxes and sent to shipping.
We sell over 20 million cinnamon rolls a year.
I know I eat my fair share.
Who wouldn't want to get their hands on these cinnamon treats and pull off a piece for themselves? You've got that wonderful center part of the cinnamon roll in three of the pieces versus just one.
I love the center of them.
They're ooey and gooey and have the flavor and the taste that just tops off the experience.
Coming up, crunchy onion snacks that'll be a ringer at your next party.
And later, a lollipop that doubles as a disguise.
Hey.
You can stack 'em.
You can twirl 'em.
- You could even toss 'em.
- Hey! Oh, uh, sorry, man.
But with these onion rings, the best play is probably just to eat 'em.
Wise Onion Rings are a light and crunchy snack formed into rings with a zesty onion flavor.
Created in 1969, Wise Onion Rings have scored big since the day they hit store shelves.
Kids and kids at heart love to play with their food.
And who doesn't love to stack their fingers with onion rings? Making these playful snacks starts with cornstarch, five different powders of cornstarch, along with tapioca and onion powder.
All these powders are poured into a mammoth machine called a ribbon blender.
And it's got one job shred the ingredients into one big batch.
will go in that ribbon blender along with water and food coloring to give it just the right color.
After 20 minutes, the powder is pumped through a set of pipes into this monstrosity called a cooking extruder.
Heat and pressure build inside, turning the medley of powders, water, and food coloring into a doughlike ribbon.
It's then forced out of the end of the extruder through a set of four openings.
As if one trip through an extruder isn't enough, the long dough ropes travel down a funnel that feeds them into a second extruder.
It will knead that dough, get rid of any excess air that's in there.
The dough squeezes to the end of the machine, where it meets a die that shapes perfect onion-ring circles.
A rotating knife spinning 1,700 RPMs that's rotations per minute slice the dough into rings that fall onto a passing conveyor belt.
They have the right shape, but they're still just little rings of raw dough.
So up the conveyor belt they go, toward the drying oven.
This oven is massive! But the temperature is mild just 200 degrees.
But this isn't meant to cook the rings, just to dry them out a bit.
We're looking for the finished onion ring to be at a moisture of under 12 percent.
So we'll adjust the heat accordingly.
As they exit the oven, the finished rings fall onto a conveyor and head to a rotating drum.
This twirling machine flips the rings over and over, quickly cooling them down.
Once they reach the end of the drum, the onion rings are ready for a little rest and relaxation, dropping into plastic bins called totes.
The totes, now full of onion rings and weighing up to 400 pounds, are stacked up and sent to the resting room.
This mandatory R&R lasts for about 7 days so any remaining moisture inside the dough spreads evenly throughout the ring.
So by letting 'em set in the totes, you'll get a nice, even expansion.
Fully rested and ready to get their crunch on, these onion rings-in-waiting are emptied from their totes onto a conveyor and whisked away to a warming oven.
The warming oven works to preheat the rings so they'll expand during the frying.
Speaking of frying, set at a scorching 340 degrees, the fryer is ready and waiting for the rings to take the plunge.
The onion rings will drop to the bottom.
And as the oil causes the water that's left in the rings to boil, it'll expand four times its original size.
After about 2 minutes soaking in vegetable oil, the onion rings float to the top, which means they're cooked to perfection.
Fried to a golden goodness, the crispy rings drip dry as they head toward a rotating drum.
But this is no ordinary cooling drum.
It's here that these crunchy rings get dusted with a savory onion-flavored seasoning.
The seasoned rings drop from the tumbler and roll to the packaging area.
The onion rings are weighed within 1/10 of a gram, dropped into the bag, and then sealed.
Wise produces 2 million pounds of onion rings annually.
That's almost a billion rings.
So many rings, so little time.
Coming up, an ice cream sandwich with a name you might not want to be called but you'll want to eat.
Hey, who are you callin' fat? Hey.
It's a sandwich but for dessert.
And you can break it in half or lick around the edges, or my preferred method, the scoop.
Mm.
Over at Casper's Ice Cream, they've got an ice cream sandwich that you have to open wide for.
It's big, fat, thick, hence the name FatBoy.
This family business has been making ice cream sandwiches for 90 years.
My grandfather, Casper Merrill, couldn't make enough money just milking the cows on the family farm and decided to start making ice cream.
His ice cream recipe is the center of all that's good in the FatBoy sandwich.
And it starts right here in this liquefier, where fresh, creamy milk is poured in and a lot of it, Then, added to the frothy milk is a proprietary blend of sugar and powders, topping it all off with hundreds of pounds of creamy butter.
You're not on a diet, are you? This milky mixture is then pasteurized by heating it to a toasty 167 degrees.
The homogenizer breaks up the fat in the liquid mix, making a creamy, smooth, consistent batch of ice cream.
Then, the liquid is moved into holding tanks, where it sits at a frosty 40 degrees.
We like to age it a minimum 4 hours.
We make sure we have a smooth, consistent, delicious product every time.
Now, the liquid batch is ready to become ice cream.
The creamy liquid is pumped through a freezer that looks like a radiator on steroids.
It will incorporate air into it.
And it will freeze, at which point, it will be a soft-serve-ice-cream-cone consistency.
That means it's the perfect texture for an ice cream sandwich.
The soft-serve ice cream is forced through the extruder's two square molds.
The molds jump up and down like a pogo stick while a wire cuts the ice cream into 11/8-inch-thick blocks.
That's easily twice as thick as a regular ice cream sandwich.
It's churning out enough squares to fill more than a couple ice cream trucks.
The extruder cuts 120 bars each minute.
Cut down to size, the bars land on a conveyor belt and are carried away to a freezing tunnel.
At about 470 yards long, you can barely see the light at the end of this tunnel.
And you can be sure it's plenty cold.
Inside here, the ice cream squares are blasted with liquid nitrogen.
Temperatures inside reach negative 270 degrees.
That's colder than the surface of Mars.
Now, that's cold.
These giant pucks of frozen ice cream exit the tunnel at a solid 0 degrees.
The stainless steel conveyor carrying the ice cream squares is blasted with a water bath.
The ice cream squares go sledding on a slippery slope.
The loosened bars are picked off the belt by hand and placed into slots as they head toward the cross-feeder.
This is where the squares of ice cream become ice cream sandwiches.
First, crispy chocolate-flavored wafers are stacked up high in the cross-feeder machine.
Then, as the creamy blocks of goodness slide by, one wafer is placed on top, and another is set on the bottom, effectively sandwiching the ice cream.
The ice cream sandwiches slide down the stream toward the packaging machine, where they're slipped into plastic wrap, flipped into colorful boxes, and ready for cold storage.
Our FatBoy ice cream sandwich is really big.
If you were to stack on top of each other, it would be as tall as Mount Everest.
Whoa! That's one mountain I'd like to climb.
Coming up, a playful lollipop treat that'll keep your friends guessing at your next party.
Hey.
Okay.
So these mustaches may not make the world's best disguise.
But what they do make is a super-fun treat.
My favorite thing about the mustache pops is there's always a guaranteed laugh.
Based in Weymouth, Massachusetts, the Melville Candy Company first opened its doors in the 1920s.
What sets them apart? Their lollipops are made almost entirely by hand.
The company was founded by my mother's uncle, George Flinn.
He had several candy stores in the Boston area.
Through the decades, his family continued to expand the business, experimenting with a variety of fun flavors and shapes.
We have over a few thousand different shapes of designs and molds.
One of their best sellers is the bushy but manicured colorful mustache.
It may be a zany design, but the formula to make these wacky pops is pretty basic.
To start, they set up a line of pots on a table.
Then, they pour the sugar and ladle in the corn syrup.
Then, after adding water, they take the sugary mix to the stove oven.
After about 20 minutes, the pot heats up.
With temperature probes keeping a watchful eye, the liquid mix boils with a bubbly desire.
Hot off the stove, the pots of sugary goodness are transferred to a stainless steel worktable.
It's here that they'll add the flavor and coloring that makes these pops so special.
Today's flavor, blue raspberry.
They add blue food coloring and a mix of raspberry flavoring to the blend.
Then, it's time to add a little sparkle with a scoop full of candy glitter.
With all the ingredients mixed thoroughly by hand, they can start the molding process that'll shape this liquid candy into mustache pops.
Each mold is actually designed by our in-house team.
Lollipop sticks are carefully laid into built-in slots.
One by one, the liquid lollipop mix is hand poured out of the pot into a mustache mold.
This process isn't as simple as they make it look.
The temperature of this batch can reach 200 degrees.
So it takes time to learn the techniques to create a perfect mustache.
It usually takes 2 to 3 weeks to train someone to pour.
You're dealin' with a very, very hot temperature, and they know just exactly how much to pour in each mold.
Pourers need to act fast 'cause it doesn't take long for the pops to harden.
Workers then lift the colorful pops out of the mold and send them off to packaging.
We hand pack everything because it is another level of quality.
The bagged pops are then placed on a conveyor belt, where they'll slide through a heat-wrap machine.
When they exit, the lollipops have a formfitting wrapping that shows off their color and sparkle.
All bagged up, a twist tie seals the deal, and these glittery pops are ready for shipping.
We manufacture somewhere around a few million units of mustaches per year.
But before you bite into one, don't forget to have some fun first.
Kids love to play with 'em.
But it's not just the kids that love to play with 'em, we notice.
The adults love to play with 'em, too.
You can twirl 'em.
You could even toss 'em.
Hey! This may not make the best disguise-a, but, uh, what they do make well is the super fun treat.
Hey, I'm-a touch it.
Now put it in your mouth.
I can't eat it all 'cause of the lactose.
- Okay, here we go.
- But I could have a half.