The core process behind the candies produced in the factory began with a paste-like mixture where sugar, colorants, and flavor essences were blended. The recipes were guarded secrets within the industry, and the flavors that emerged reflected those guarded formulations. The workflow combined manual and mechanical steps, including kneading, molding, stamping, and winding to shape the treats.
Asturian Candies traces its origins to a long-running operation that served both domestic and international markets. According to former employees, orders continued to arrive from abroad even after the facility ceased operations, with assets still tied up in liquidation. In a typical year, the Three Kings regiments in Spain would have received candy from the Gijón plant, but this was seldom the case due to the factory’s shutdown. A former manager recalled initiating work in September with the aim of producing 300,000 kilograms before January 5, emphasizing the scale and urgency of production in previous seasons.
Following the Christmas season, the owner sold the machinery to a company in Extremadura, triggering protests among workers over the closure of a business whose output had centered on eucalyptus candy. The factory historically allocated three days a week for national production, producing between 24 and 30 tons in that window. The best-known products included eucalyptus caramel, a signature weighty candy, and a filling variety; colleagues noted that today’s flavors feel different because they relied on natural essences.
Margarita Carril remembers crafting special items for the Christmas period, including candies filled with nougat, almonds, pralines, or apple pulp. Export reach extended to Germany, England, Croatia, Portugal, France, the United States, and Israel. In some markets, the production environment involved diverse practices, even inviting a rabbi to bless the machinery and materials used, as described by José Ramón Miranda, who recalls outlining certain production guidelines tied to traditional rituals.
Within the factory, the image of a busy holiday season persisted. An employee photo caption described a lollipop in hand, symbolizing the peak demand during festive parades and chaos. The workforce, once over sixty strong, operated across three shifts and maintained strong ties with the founding family. Hiring often relied on personal connections among owners and their networks, with owner-employees sometimes recruiting others for a family-run business.
The company was established in 1941 by the Otero family, with the elder figure still present on the factory floor and affectionately called “Don Miguel” by former workers. The original facility was located on Calle Infiesto, where most staff handled routine tasks, while kneading remained a reserve for more physically demanding roles, such as moving 50-pound dough blocks. In 1990, the plant relocated to the Mora Garay industrial zone, introducing updated equipment and a second production line for eucalyptus candies.
A second era of the company’s life involved a larger workforce and more intensive production, though later events precipitated a decline. At peak, more than sixty workers were employed, with three shifts in operation. When closure finally arrived, 28 workers remained. Mass layoffs were approved the previous May as part of the bankruptcy process, and the liquidation plan awaited judicial approval at the Gijón commercial court.
Former employees attribute the downturn to shifts in leadership and strategic decisions. One recalls a period when personal health challenges and leadership transitions complicated succession. In 2003 the company was transferred between family members, and three years later control passed to new hands. A 2015 account recalled producing as much as 14 tons of sugar daily during a period of three shifts, supplying supermarkets across Spain and Portugal.
Debate among workers continued about what specifically hindered continuity. The decision to sell the machinery at a low price and the temporary regulatory measures affecting employment during packaging moments were cited by some as contributing factors. Union leaders in Gijón argued that the La Asturiana brand has no formal patent, meaning future owners could revive the label without impediment.
Recent arrivals from La Asturiana have received limited compensation after years of debt accumulation by the business owner. Some workers retired comfortably, others found alternative employment, while a segment over fifty remained unemployed. The company’s assets, valued around €1.97 million, awaited court approval for sale, marking a closing chapter for a historic enterprise in Asturias—a region that also witnessed the closure of the Chupa Chups plant in earlier years and faced an ongoing industrial transformation. [citation: archival industry records]