Ready to sticky rock and roll with the holiday treat that spans generations
Rock hasnât always come in sticks with letters
Pedlars sold small colourful squares of unwrapped rock at country fairgrounds in the early 19th century. This âfair rockâ had no garish neon hues like today, and no lettering.
Diarist, Henry Mayhew, mentions souvenir sticks of rock being hawked on the streets of London in 1851, and marvelled how the words, âLord Mayors Dayâ, ran from one end to the other.
Early rock was sometimes nicknamed âlove rockâ, for the inscription often contained the word âloveâ. âDo You Love Me?â read one. Another, less romantically: âDo You Love Sprats?â
Lettering can take ten years to master
Ex-miner, Ben Bullock, began pulling sugar to mass-produce long ropes of lettered rock at his sweet factory in Dewsbury, Yorkshire, in 1887 which he would cut into sticks with shears. Soon afterwards, âDynamite Dickâ was pulling, rolling and lettering in Morecambe, Lancashire.
Lettering is a craft that can take ten years to master. The letters, always capitals, come in six-foot-long strips of clear red sugar. Any spaces within the letters â as in âPâ or âOâ âare filled with opaque white sugar.

âSquareâ letters are made first, as they will not lose their shape, while âtriangularâ (A and V) and âroundâ letters (C, D, G, O, Q, S, U) are constructed last to prevent them from running into the soft toffee.
Whether you lick your rock, crunch a bit off, or attack it with a knife and hammer, as my dad did, the inscription is always visible. As Ida observes in Graham Greeneâs 1948 thriller, Brighton Rock, âbite one all the way down, youâll still read Brightonâ.
Rock and roll
Butlins hit the headlines in 2008 when it rolled out the largest stick of rock the world has ever seen to celebrate a Sugababes concert at its Minehead camp.
A team of ten people spent over 24 hours smoothing it into shape, and a forklift truck was needed to lift it.
Measuring half the length of a bus, and boasting a circumference of 1.25 meters, the monster was equivalent to almost 5,000 normal sticks of rock and weighed 440.8kg â as much as a baby elephant.
Funny flavours
Rock has long since branched out from peppermint. Shells, a popular seaside restaurant in Strandhill, Co. Sligo, sells, at âŹ2, a very intriguing âmixed-fruit type, hard to pin down exactl yâ but itâs deliciousâ, says manager, Lorna Golden.
No such doubt at Aunty Nellieâs sweet shop in Cobh where you can sink your teeth into ice cream sundae, cappuccino, trifle and bubblegum-flavoured rock.
But if itâs something savoury youâre after, Sweet Delights in Blackpool can offer pizza margherita or chicken tikka masala rock.
Yet plenty of us are still orthodox at heart in matters rock. When Maura Harris from Benners Hotel, Dingle, requests: âBring me back a rockâ, she means a âmintyâ specimen. âRock is rock, and should only have one flavour,â she argues. âIf that changes it no longer is the traditional rock that we know.â
Rude rock causes uproar
Lancashireâs Southport Rock Shop made national news in 2002 when two male police officers ordered the manager âto take all the rock willies out of the windowâ. The rock boobs could stay, they told him, because âthey hadnât received any complaints about themâ.

Last summer parents entering a rock shop with their children in Scarborough, Yorkshire, failed to be amused by âwobbly tittiesâ and a âwilly on a stickâ imported from China, deeming them more appropriate for the shelves of a sex shop. A Blackpool outfit selling similar items alongside traditional rock commented they would ârather not sell them but thatâs what people wantâ.
Rock is going places
Highstreet banks and coffee shops, department stores and airlines, are promoting their businesses using rock. âPeople might throw away marketing flyers, but sticks of rock get rememberedâ, says Brett from the Rock People in Lancing, West Sussex. âYour business running through the message will always hit the spot.â
But politicians beware. When Wicklow Labour Party TD, Anne Ferris, distributed free âAnne Ferris rocksâ as part of her unsuccessful election campaign last year, many dismissed the gesture as a publicity stunt.
Though who would deny a bride and groom on their big day presenting guests with sticks of rock, emblazoned with the couplesâ names, a heart, and the date they took the plunge? Now thereâs a change from sugared almonds.


